Chapter fifteen – A date with your English teacher
To be fair to Gilbert, he had a thing with fireworks. He'd always been the one to smuggle in the tame explosives into the school and managed to set them off in impressive, inventive ways without any expensive technology. What he did every year probably put his life in danger, what from leaping around in a minefield of lit fireworks, running off to set off the right one at the right time, but his sacrifice definitely was impressive. This year everyone was greatly looking forward to it – he'd even been given donations by some of the richer students, and even some of the teachers. He was being helped out Lovino and Antonio, too, so this was bound to be an impressive night.
Hopefully impressive in more ways than one, Arthur thought. Not only would he get amazing fireworks, hot chocolate, chocolate brownies and a great time with his brother and few friends, he'd also have an opportunity to make things up with Alfred. An opportunity that was making his stomach feel like every species of butterfly was fluttering around inside it.
Like he'd promised himself, he'd had a shower and Owain had managed to sneak him some expensive French soapy stuff. Clueless, Arthur had smothered himself in flowery smelling bubbles, and, to be fair to Francis' bathing products, Arthur didn't smell half bad when he came out of the shower. His skin was certainly a lot softer than usual, too.
Smiling inwardly as he walked towards the unmistakeable smell of a lit fire, Arthur sighed a little. Perhaps, now, everything would be over. He could take a big, deep breath and just relax, slip back into the old life with Alfred. He'd found that bottle against all odds, so maybe another miracle would happen tonight.
Arthur soon joined the thick of the crowd, everyone gathered around a huge bonfire, waiting for the first of the fireworks to go off. Telling himself he most definitely wasn't frantically searching for Alfred, Arthur began pacing around, eyes darting everywhere, terrified and excited at the same time.
"Arthur! Hiya!"
Arthur looked up, excited, but then saw it was Owain running towards him. Arthur frowned, "Hi, Owain."
Owain narrowed his eyes, "What's wrong?"
"Thought you were Alfred…" Arthur muttered.
Owain didn't attempt to hide the grin spreading across his face, "Oh Arthur! I'm so glad you're attempting to mend things!" he said.
"Look, I don't know if anything's going to happen, so don't get your hopes up…" Arthur said, though he could already feel the shy smile pulling at his lips.
"N'aww, you really are too adorable, you know? Well, my best of luck to you both!" Owain said with a smile, "I'm off to find Francis. If you find him, can you tell him I was looking for him, please?"
"Sure," Arthur nodded, "Have fun."
Owain disappeared off into the crowd of students, escaping Arthur's gaze extremely quickly. Just as Arthur settled himself down on a little rock that gave him what he thought a sufficient view of the whole crowd, the first firework, a bright red one, went off. It was followed by a bright white and golden one, and then, practically simultaneously, a deep blue one flew off into the sky. This was Gilbert's trademark beginning to a firework display. He always did the red white and blue – everyone had their own theories, but the most popular one was he liked those colours because his eyes were red, his hair was white, and his favourite colour was deep blue. Self-centred as always.
Arthur smiled as he looked up at the exploding patterns in the sky. The loud bangs drowned out any noise around him, and for a while he actually forgot about Alfred, and just let himself watch the fireworks.
"Hot chocolate?"
Arthur looked up, and found Matthew offering him a mug. Arthur frowned in confusion, but took the mug happily, shifting over on his rock to give Matthew some space to sit down. The Canadian smiled in thanks, gladly taking the seat.
"The fireworks are pretty, don't you think?" Matthew said quietly.
Still a little confused, Arthur decided to go along with the direction of the conversation, "I guess so…"
"Hmm… Gives you time to think."
"Yeah…" Arthur agreed doubtfully, eyeing Matthew, "Is everything okay?"
Matthew shrugged, "I guess so. I've finally realised I'm as twisted as everyone says I am…"
Arthur sighed. He really didn't want a conversation like this now, but apparently he had to have it, "Why do you say that?"
"Because…" Matthew sighed, "Sorry, you really don't want to hear this, do you?"
"No, no, it's fine! Go ahead!" Arthur lied blatantly.
Matthew smiled, and just as he was about to cry his heart out, Alfred came to the rescue.
"Kirkland. You wanted a word?" Alfred said, casually walking up to the rock.
Arthur narrowed his eyes at the use of the last name, "Yes I did. I assume you read the notes in that bottle."
Alfred avoided Arthur's gaze, "I did."
"Good," Arthur said, climbing to his feet, and then turned to Matthew, "Sorry, Matthew, but I'll have to talk to you later… I have things to do."
Matthew smiled, "It's no problem, bye."
Arthur waved, and then turned to Alfred, "Let's get out of all this noise."
Alfred nodded, and the two of them walked in silence to a much quieter place. They wordlessly chose to sit on a wall that separated the school it's self from the outer grounds. Luckily they still had a clear view of Gilbert's utterly beautiful fireworks, but were spared from the deafeningly loud bangs.
"So you miss me then?" Alfred began.
Arthur frowned, "Don't make me sound so desperate – you're the one who said you missed me first."
Alfred weighed his head from side to side, "Fair enough."
"Now what, then?"
"Well I don' know."
They sat in silence.
"This is ridiculous – we both want to be with each other right now – we've both done stupid things – so what the hell is stopping us from leaping into each other's arms and returning to each other like a fairy-tale couple?" Arthur said, utterly exasperated and tired out from how hard social convention was.
"This isn't a fairy-tale?" Alfred shrugged, "I don't know, but something doesn't feel right."
Arthur nodded. They didn't know what it was, like.
Then it hit Arthur, "Well you haven't apologised for all those things you said."
"What things?" Alfred narrowed his eyes.
"You know – calling me a girl, a pushover, and telling me I was insecure. I also heard that something happened between you and Matthew a while back, too."
Alfred glared at the floor. How had Arthur found out about that? "Look, I'm sorry about that, but are you really still bothered about that now? It's November for God's sake!"
"Yes, I know the month! And the fact that I'm still bothered about it shows how much it bothered me! I know I'm insecure, and can be a bit of a pushover, and have some girly ideas about love – but I was slowly trying to fix that about myself! I didn't really like it when you just walked over and shouted all my bad qualities down my ear!" Arthur shouted, frustrated beyond belief.
"Well did it ever occur to you that maybe you were over-reacting?" Alfred shot back.
"Maybe I did a bit, but that still doesn't excuse what you said to me!" Arthur glared.
Alfred simply pouted childishly, turning his gaze away and mumbled something inaudible.
"What?" Arthur said.
Alfred sighed, repeating his mumble a little louder, "You said bitchy things to me when we were dating. I'm not the only one."
Arthur frowned, "What?" He genuinely didn't know what Alfred was talking about, "Okay, give me one example when I've said something terrible like that to you."
Shrugging, Alfred began, "Take your pick. It was at least once a day you'd call me 'idiot', or shove me off you when I go to kiss you – constantly swear at me – hit me. It's an endless list, Arthur."
Arthur winced. That was below the belt. "Alfred! You know full well that I act that way because I'm just like that! It's like Lovino and Antonio! It's even worse for them! Surely you know I'm not serious!"
"I know you're not serious, but it's not particularly fun, either!" Alfred said, his voice gaining volume.
"So what, you want me to change who I am for you!?" Arthur demanded.
"That might be nice, yes! And while you're changing your personality, why not try plucking your eyebrows, too?" Alfred growled, putting his fingers over his own eyebrows and wiggling them like little caterpillars, imitating what Arthur's eyebrows looked like.
"That was just cruel, Alfred! You didn't have to say that!" Arthur buried his face in his hands, suddenly feeling very self conscious of his eyebrows. He knew his face was beet red.
Alfred ignored him. He didn't apologise, but he didn't continue with his eyebrow impressions. The silence was a long and very, very awkward one.
"Well now what? Do we kiss and make up, or do we carry on fighting like seven year olds?" Arthur mumbled into his hands. He was making the latter seem very possible.
"How the hell am I meant to know?" Alfred spat on the floor.
Sighing, Arthur climbed to his feet, not offering Alfred a hand up, "Well I'm not wasting my evening with someone who refuses to apologise. See you around, Alfred."
Arthur's cool strut away was interrupted by Alfred catching his arm, "Arthur wait."
Arthur turned, his heart in his mouth – could this be what he was hoping for?
It turned out it wasn't what he was hoping for. It was something good, but not an apology.
It was a kiss. Alfred had very innocently pressed their lips together in a chaste embrace, something that Arthur had missed a lot about their relationship.
Alfred was about to pull back, when suddenly Arthur flung his arms around Alfred, crushing their lips together once more, this time their tongues going a little further, and the innocent approach slowly getting replaced by a mature, hot make-put session.
Arthur felt Alfred's cool fingers fly about his lower torso, never once staying in the same place for more than a few seconds – he was obviously unsure whether or not he was allowed to do this. Smiling a little to himself, Arthur unhooked a hand from Alfred's hair, and held the American's hand on his own lower back, giving the clear message of 'yes, you can do this.'
And that is exactly what Alfred did. Arthur felt a little gasp escape his mouth as Alfred's hands travelled south, slipping inside the tight waist of his skinny jeans, and then through the elasticised layer of his boxer shorts, his cold flesh now touching the very top of Arthur's ass.
This was something new. Something they'd never done before. Part of Arthur was screaming at them to stop, for common sense issues, and the fact that it didn't feel quite right that they were doing this now, even when they were supposedly in the middle of a fight.
Stupidity won though, and Arthur pretended not to bat an eye at Alfred's new level. In fact, Arthur's stupid side said to himself, he could match Alfred's level.
So, stupidly, like his stupid-self demanded, Arthur reached around to the front of Alfred's jeans, unbuttoning them, and fiddling with the beginnings of Alfred's American flag boxers. Arthur moaned a little as he felt Alfred shove his hand a little deeper down his own jeans, the temperature of his hand slowly contaminating his warmth.
"I knew we'd be back together," Arthur muttered happily.
"So we're back together?" Alfred whispered into Arthur's ear.
"Of course. That is, if you're willing to apologise."
Arthur knew from the moment it left his lips he'd made a mistake saying that.
His suspicions were confirmed when he slowly felt Alfred pull away, his hand sliding out from Arthur's jeans, and going to button up his own.
"Still so hung up over that then?" Alfred glared at Arthur, looking scarily disgusted.
"Yeah, I am!" Arthur was willing himself to shut up, though it seemed the little power he'd given to his stupid-self before had gone to it's head, and had now decided to control all actions permanently, "It's not much to say 'I'm sorry'!"
"And you could just let it go! I let stuff you do go!"
"Oh yeah, like what!?"
"I told you before! The hitting, the insults, the coldness!"
Arthur growled aloud, "This is just a repeat of our argument before, idiot!"
"There you go again! Calling me names!"
"Oh just shut up, will you! So you're not willing to apologise?"
Alfred frowned, "No, not until you're ready to admit that you've been a bitch to me in the past, and that I'm right about you being insecure and girly!"
"Well that isn't happening any time soon, Jones!" Arthur felt both triumphant and cruel at the use of Alfred's surname.
"Fine with me, Kirkland!" Alfred matched.
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
They turned their backs on one another, not a single word said and just walked in the direction of their destination. Arthur didn't cry, he didn't even feel like tears were threatening his eyes. But in a way, it was worse because he didn't cry – he felt disappointed in himself, like he'd let everyone, including himself, down. Disgusted, he slammed his dormitory door shut, crawling into his bed, just lying there with his window open, listening to the crackles of the fireworks and the screeches of delight from his classmates. If only he were having as good a time as them.
"Why did you take me to a sushi restaurant?" Kiku muttered, and then quickly added, "But I'm very grateful."
"Oh, I know you are," Heracles said, his smile growing, "I took you here because I heard you talking to Feliciano about how much you missed your home cuisine."
"But we drove for half an hour to get here!"
"It would've taken us an hour and a half if I'd stuck to the speed limits like you told me to," Heracles said simply. Kiku knew he was very pleased that he had chance to show off his new sports car, though.
"Fine, fine," Kiku muttered, trying to shove images of Lars out of his mind. Instead he looked around the restaurant he was sitting in. To be fair, it was quite a nice place. There was dim, low lights hanging from all over the ceiling, and little spotlights built into every table. The tables themselves were some kind of black wood, and weren't really tables, more single bars. The walls were covered with very stereotypical Japanese things – like fans - with Chinese text, Kiku noticed with annoyance – or copies of traditional Japanese pictures. However there was one wall that Kiku found himself studying, as it was pasted in old Japanese newspapers, and over the top of it here and there, someone had ripped out pages of manga, pinning them over the black and white text, mixing in nicely.
"Stop studying the décor and look at me," Heracles frowned, "You need to keep your side of the bargain."
Kiku sighed, "You're right, I'm very sorry Heracles-san," he said stiffly.
"Good," Heracles gave a satisfied smile, "What're you ordering?"
Kiku went with his old favourite of plain and simple ramen. Just ramen and nothing else. It would be very nostalgic.
"You sure you don't want anything else?" Heracles raised an eyebrow, "Don't worry about the price – I can pay. It's no problem," though secretly, Heracles was very pleased with Kiku's cheap meal choice, as after he'd blown an awful lot of money on a car he couldn't really afford, the figures on his bank statement looked a little too red and bold for his liking.
"That will suffice, Heracles-san, thank you." Kiku answered.
"Suit yourself," Heracles shrugged, acting indifferent and reciting their order to a cute looking Japanese waitress wearing cat ears, who smiled and greeted Kiku in their native language as she passed.
Heracles didn't look amused.
"I only said hello…" Kiku looked at the floor.
There was silence for a moment.
"You've really changed…" Heracles mused.
Kiku nearly spat out the water he was drinking, "You can speak for yourself."
"See, you never used to say things like that. Or you would've, and then you would've slapped a hand over your mouth, blushed, and apologised."
Heracles looked too happy at Kiku's shocked expression. Kiku avoided Heracles' gaze – the Greek did know him very well.
"I'm sorry," Heracles muttered under his breath.
"For what?" Kiku looked up, confused.
"For just being like this these past few weeks. And don't say 'like what' – you know what I mean," Heracles said, shaking his head, "I've been way too pushy with you. I haven't been nice, sweet or kind at all. It's no wonder you've been avoiding me like the plague."
"I wasn't avoiding you… I…" Kiku's excuse faded off into nothing. Both knew he was lying.
"I don't blame you. So… Kiku?"
"Yes?" Kiku now felt a familiar fluttering in his stomach.
Heracles sounded the shyest he had all night, "Will you, perhaps… give me a second chance? I won't act like I have the right to be with you – to kiss you whenever I feel like it. I'll act like I'm just a bystander in love with you, and that I have to make you love me."
Kiku felt a faint blush spread across his cheeks, "But what about Lars? And you're a teacher! It could never work Heracles-san, no matter how much either of us want it to…"
Heracles smiled, digging into his pocket and bringing out a note, "I've got the teacher one covered," he slid the note over to Kiku. The Japanese boy read it inquisitively.
"'What I don't know won't hurt me. – B' What? What does this mean? Whose it from?" Kiku was completely clueless.
"It means I have permission to at least try and date you, as long as the head doesn't find out. That," Heracles nodded at the note, "Was enclosed with the teacher's code of conduct, which included all the rules about how teachers should act towards their students."
Kiku weighed his head from side to side, "Fair enough, but… what about Lars?"
"Break up with him," Heracles shrugged.
"I can't do that! I like him like I used to like you! I might even…" Kiku let the sentence trail off.
"Might even what?" Heracles narrowed his eyes.
"… Love him…" Kiku hung his head, face beet red.
There was an awkward silence as the waitress came over, placing their food in front of them, quickly bowing her head and making her way to another table, sensing the very awkward atmosphere.
Kiku and Heracles ate in silence for a while, neither catching the other's eye contact.
"Did you love me?" Heracles asked quietly about halfway through the meal.
Kiku didn't need to think before answering, "Yes, yes I did."
"Past tense?"
Kiku didn't answer. He didn't even know the answer himself. Heracles seemed to understand and dropped the topic swiftly.
"So how're your subjects going? Did I tell you I managed to get your mark for that assignment you had two weeks ago? You weren't meant to get it before it was officially released. I'm quite impressed with myself, you know," Heracles smiled "You got an A."
Kiku smiled, looking to the floor.
"You're disappointed with an A?" Heracles furrowed his eyebrows.
"Well I was hoping for an A*… English is one of my preferred subjects, after all…"Kiku said truthfully, taking a small mouthful of ramen.
"But Kiku – English is your second language! It's amazing you were even put in for the exam! It really is impressive," Heracles said encouragingly, "Really – I think I remember having a conversation with your mother once; she told me that you only started learning English a few months before you got here – which means you've only been speaking the language for four years. To be fluent in English and able to analyse it, take it apart, and write about it, then that's pretty amazing."
"No, it's not," Kiku shook his head, "Not now with the internet. Everyone, or it feels like everyone can speak English. English is your second language too!"
"Yeah, but I've been speaking it since I was a little kid. It feels like Greek is my second language, now," Heracles said, "That's kind of depressing I guess."
"I know what you mean… I even think in English now. I only use Japanese at home, and even then we've started to talk more and more English. My mother wants to practice hers, you see. She's never been that good at it," Kiku sighed.
"I like this," Heracles said suddenly, "Conversations like this. About absolutely nothing. We can just talk about whatever we want… It's not awkward or scary… I don't feel under any pressure. Tell me you haven't missed this?"
Kiku had to admit he was enjoying himself now. It wasn't like when he was with Lars – with Lars he always on-edge, like he constantly had to make a good impression for his slightly intimidating boyfriend. Now with Heracles, it just felt nice. As he said, there was no pressure on them. It almost felt like he was with a good friend, only better. "I have to agree with you, if I'm honest."
Heracles smiled, and looked like he was about to say something, until he looked down at his watch and saw the time, "Shit…" he muttered under his breath, "What time did you say you needed to be back with Lars?"
"Half eight," though in truth Kiku wanted to stay right where he was.
"Right, well you know how we drove double the speed limit on our way here?"
"Yes?"
"We're going to have to drive triple it to get you back on time."
Kiku blinked a little nervously. He'd never been a fan of fast driving, "Please, just stick to the speed limit," he said, partly for his stomach, but mostly so he could spend more time with Heracles.
"But then we'll be back at about ten o'clock!"
"Please, just drive slowly."
"But Kiku…" Heracles then caught on, "Oh!" he smiled knowingly, "Of course."
Kiku didn't want to admit out loud that he wanted to be with Heracles, so was very grateful for the teacher's instant understanding.
The journey home was an awful lot better than the journey there, Kiku decided. He and Heracles had conversations about nothing that mattered – just things that stuck in their mind. For a while, Kiku even started softly singing along to the radio that was playing quietly, resulting in a shouting karaoke-session between the two.
At five to ten, Heracles pulled into the school car park, cutting the engine of the car.
"Well… Looks like we're done here, then…" Heracles sighed, "I had fun."
"Me too," Kiku smiled, "Thank you, Heracles."
"If you want to do it again another time, just speak to me. You know where I am," the Greek smiled, opening his door, and then coming around to Kiku's side, and like some sort of chauffeur, opened the door, and held a hand out for Kiku to take. Gingerly, Kiku placed his hand in Heracles', and found he was being gently pulled up into his teacher's arms in a simple, honest hug.
"I missed you so much," Heracles muttered into Kiku's hair, tickling his ear.
"I missed you too," Kiku whispered into his strong chest.
Heracles smiled to himself, and with a soft pat on top of Kiku's head, he stepped away, letting Kiku free, "I'll let you get back to Lars."
Kiku nodded, smiling, "Thank you, Heracles-san."
Heracles just shook his head, hugging Kiku briefly again, pressing his lips to Kiku's pale forehead. Without another word and a simple wave goodbye, he was gone.
Kiku held his hands up to his head, his heart pounding so hard it felt like the organ might go into overload and just stop. His breathing was faster than usual he noticed, and just couldn't get thoughts of Heracles out of his mind.
And then Lars took his place.
Kiku sighed, rubbing his forehead. He'd had such a wonderful evening, apart from the constant nagging feeling that was eating at him the entire date. It was all forbidden. Every single action that he and Heracles made was like a deep gash into Lars, and if he were to ever find out, not only would Kiku feel devastated about hurting Lars so much, but he'd probably gain a very dangerous enemy.
Shaking his head, Kiku just decided to brush it all off. He sent a simple text to Lars apologising for not getting back in time for the fireworks, and that he'd make up for it tomorrow and they'd go somewhere special. With that, he headed off in the direction of his dormitory, trying to shut up his thoughts.
Kiku was so very wrapped up in his own mental frustration; he didn't see the very boy he was thinking about lurking in a corner. Lars had seen it all – the flirting inside the car, the hug, the chaste kiss on the forehead. Just as Kiku had predicted, Lars felt numb all over, his insides all messed up with feelings of anger and betrayal. He just felt tired – weary of everything now. He just wanted to close his eyes and shake his head until it was okay.
Luckily Lars had been in this situation more than once. He knew a solution.
He grabbed a lighter out of his pocket, and soon, familiar smelling clouds of smoke surrounded him. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and letting the unique feeling take over him.
A little part of him wanted to curl up and start crying. He'd just broken his clean record. After all the trying he'd put in, he just ruined it like that. You could take so long to make something pure and beautiful, but only a few seconds to completely destroy it. Kiku had shown him that.
A/N
Ugh X'D hello guys :) sorry for the wait again -.-
And for those of you who actually thought Alfred and Arthur were going to get together, by now you should know me a little better X'D
But the angst (I hope it's angst! X'D) will continue for quite a few more chapters X'D there's been quite a bit of angst these past few weeks for me, and I can draw inspiration from that X'D long story short, I like my best friend's ex boyfriend, who she still likes X'D of course, there's a lot more to it than that. But if things start getting happier in the story, then that means things are getting on good with me and him :P
Don't ask me why I told you that X'D You're my online psychiatrists? Okay ignore me X'D
London MCM at the weekend :'D
BYE GUYS! THANK YOU FOR YOUR LOVELY REVIEWS! YOU MAKE ME VERY HAPPY!
Love yas~