Alfred and Arthur chatted about sports and life for the rest of lunch. As much as Arthur didn't want to admit it he wished that he could talk with Alfred longer. The American was surprisingly interesting to Arthur, and he wanted to know more. Alfred explained his love for science and math. He spoke about how he wants to fly planes one day. Unfortunately the bell rang, and the two had to get to their next classes.
Like all of Arthur's other classes, the rest just seemed to blend in to a blur of boring, mostly because he had already learned about the subject or was just completely uninterested in it. Until his last class on the second floor of the English and social sciences building, where he was placed at a window seat overlooking the football field and track. Just when he was about to take notes on the importance of good public speaking skills, out of the corner of his eye a game of flag football caught his attention.
The sport wasn't his favorite. Actually Arthur barely knew any of the rules, but it was much more interesting then the lecture going on in the class room at the moment. There were also a small handful people running the track or sitting on edge of the turf in the shade. Arthur shifted his attention back to the football game and instantly recognized Gilbert and Antonio as they teamed up on a tall burnet boy and took his flags while he had the ball. Then a certain American came in behind the two and grabbed both teens' flags when they were preoccupied with arguing over the ball.
"Arthur, would you please introduce yourself to the class?" Arthur quickly looked at the teacher when he heard his name being called.
"Uh yes," Arthur said standing next to his desk "Hello, my name is Arthur Kirkland," Arthur sat down and looked out the window again, but everyone had gone inside to change.
After the last bell rang Arthur was stopped by Alfred near the entrance of the building, and offered him a ride home, which Arthur accepted.
"Do you want to go to my first game of the season?" Alfred asked out of the blue.
"Sure, why not? My father is always telling me to get out more," Arthur said as he read through some of the many text messages left on his phone.
"Sweet! It'll be in two weeks since we're still doing tryouts," Alfred glanced at Arthur "What'cha doing there?"
"Ever since I moved, my so called friends have sent me messages nonstop. So I'm deleting them," Arthur looked up from his phone and noticed the look of confusion on Alfred's face.
"So called friends?"
"I told you about me my friends I left in England, right?" Alfred nodded, "I got in some trouble caused by them which made my father decide to move. So, now I get messages from them saying some vulgar stuff,"
"What kind of trouble did you get in to?"
"It's quite a long story that has many events leading up to it," Arthur said and scratched his cheek hoping Alfred would drop the subject.
"So you don't want to talk about it? Huh?" Arthur was silent "Well I can respect that. I guess you can tell me when you're ready,"
"Do you want me to drive you to school tomorrow?" Alfred asked as he pulled his tuck up in front of Arthur's house. Arthur just nodded at the American.
"Oh and let me see your phone for a sec," Alfred grabbed Arthur's phone before he could say no and typed something on it "There we go. I knew you probably wouldn't text me. So, I did it for you" Alfred said smiling and handed the phone back as a small ring came from Alfred's phone on the center console.
"You twit, who said you could have my number?" Alfred just smiled at Arthur.
"Whatever, just don't go around prank calling me. I'll see you, tomorrow,"
"Alright, see you,"
Arthur gave Alfred a quick wave before entering the front door. The house was dark and quiet; his parents wouldn't make it home before Arthur went to bed most likely. So, Arthur switched on the light in the entrance way and walked up to his room.
Arthur stood in the middle of his room, staring at his cell phone on his desk, contemplating whether or not to text Alfred. On one hand Arthur was extremely bored at home and hates being alone, although he didn't want to bother the American.
He could be doing something important. But what would he be doing that a text will interrupt? No, I don't want to be a bother. Oh, screw it.
Arthur closed the gap between him and the phone and started to type out a text, until his phone started to ring in his hands causing him to juggle it in his hands, trying to keep the small device from falling on the floor.
"Bloody…" Arthur muttered as he fiddled with unlocking his phone. "What!"
"Oh sorry is this a bad time?" Alfred's voice chimed from the other end.
"Uh…"
"Arthur you still there?"
"Ah, yes I'm here,"
"Good well my mom wanted to know, do you want to come over for dinner again?" Arthur paused letting out a sigh.
"I don't know Alfred. I don't want to intrude on your family," Arthur could hear Alfred let out a bitter chuckle.
"Trust me you wouldn't be intruding," After a second of thinking Arthur finally let out a sigh.
"I'll be there in a few minutes," He hung up and headed out the door.
It had been three weeks since that day and Arthur had spent most of his time with Alfred. They ate lunch at school together, they spent time at each other's houses, and Arthur watched Alfred at baseball practice and games.
Today wasn't an exception. Arthur sat in the corner of the dugout with headphones blocking out most of the teams bickering and the clattering of bats on the ground. He learned quickly that he should bring something to entertain himself as everyone did their own thing at practice. Arthur decided today he would read one of Alfred's favorite Superman comics, but as he was starting to get into the comic a baseball mitt hit the Brit square in the face.
"Dude, practice is over," Alfred's smile made Arthur blush. Even though time was going by in a flash, Arthur's felling hadn't. Just the American's presence in the same room produced butterflies in Arthur's stomach. However, Arthur denied his feelings thinking they were wrong and Alfred would never return them.
"That doesn't excuse you for throwing you're mitt in my face, you twat," Arthur frowned as he set aside the slightly worn comic.
"Aww, Artie, don't be that way,"
"As I had said before my name is Arthur. It is not and never will be Artie," Alfred matched Arthur's frown and then tossed a ball toward Arthur.
"Has anybody told you that you can be a real uptight person? What happened to the punk I've heard about? The one that didn't listen to the rules and dressed the way he wanted to?"
"I'm not that person any more. I grew up," Arthur said in almost a whisper, before he gathered his stuff and started walking out of the dugout. He stopped at the entrance and turned to Alfred "We should go. Your mother's most likely worried about where we are,"
"Arthur wait, I don't want to go home yet," Arthur looked up to the American slightly surprised.
"Why? You're usually the one to rush back to play video games," Alfred kicked the ground nervously.
"I don't want to tell you. It's a really stupid reason," Alfred rubbed the back of his neck making Arthur's frown deepen in annoyance.
"For God's sake, just spit it out Alfred!" Alfred's eyes shot up from the ground to meet Arthur's.
"I- It's awkward at my house now… Matt let it slip," Arthur cocked his head to the side in confusion.
"Let what slip?" Alfred looked around, sat on a bench and sighed.
"Last night, after you went home, Matt came to talk to me about Gilbert in the den and our mom overheard. We heard her gasp and walk up the stairs; she hasn't said a word to him since. So, I don't really want to be around when she does decide to talk to him," Alfred ran a hand trough his hair.
"You're always welcome at my house," Alfred smiled at Arthur causing him to turn away and blush and grumble, "at least that is what my mother said,"
"That would be nice," Alfred got up grabbed Arthur's hand pulling him to the truck.
"You don't have any food here!" Alfred shouted to Arthur as the American sifted through the refrigerator.
"We can order a pizza or whatever you want," Arthur sat at the kitchen island, watching Alfred as he rummaged for food, sipping his cup of tea.
"Okay, where's the phone?"
"It should be up stairs in my room," Alfred ran out of the room and down the hall.
"Don't run, you git!" Arthur shouted and quickly made his way to his room, only to find Alfred sitting at the desk already on the phone.
"… yes that's right. Thank you," He hung up the phone and sat up in the chair looking down at the old desk.
"Arthur, is this you?" Arthur crossed the room leaned against the edge of his desk and saw that Alfred was pointing to a picture of him with his brothers. He smiled at the photo of a very young frowning Arthur squished in the middle of his three older brothers.
"Yes, and those are my older brothers Scott, Liam, and Cain,"
"You were cute as a little boy,"Arthur turned his head to look at Alfred but paused.
"But I think I like how you look now more," Arthur's breath hitched as Alfred whispered, the American's face was only centimeters from Arthur's. The fresh scent of rain and mint flooded Arthur's senses.
"…Do you?" Arthur asked half lidded.
"Mhmm…" Alfred hummed in response and moved in slowly, closing the small gap between their lips.
At first Alfred only lightly brushed his lips against Arthur's and then he began to stand crushing his soft lips onto Arthur's. Arthur didn't have time to think before he felt Alfred lift him so he was sitting on the desk. The only thing he could do was wrap his arms around the American's neck and kiss him back as he felt Alfred's hands trail down from the small of Arthur's back to his hips, pulling Arthur closer to him.
Arthur could feel his skin heated up where ever Alfred had touched him and wanted more, but they had to part to catch their breath. As Alfred stared into Arthur's eyes, their foreheads touching, Arthur had realized what exactly he was doing with Alfred.
"Oh God no," Arthur whispered to himself.
"Arthur, is there something wrong?" Alfred asked and cupped Arthur's cheek in his hand.
"Oh no, no, no. this can not be happening,"
"Arthur, tell me, what's wrong?"Alfred moved Arthur's head to face him.
"THIS IS!"Arthur finally screamed, making Alfred flinch, "I… BLOODY… I- I need fresh air," Arthur forced his way out of Alfred's grip, ran down stairs, and out the door. He didn't even stop running until he got into town and sat on one of the benches in the town square.
I must be insane to even…
Arthur shook his head trying to get rid of his thoughts. He didn't know how long he had even been there on the bench, but he was suddenly aware of the dim light of dusk.
"Arthur?"
This was a really hard chapter to write for some reason. Oh and I was asked in the reviews what "belt up" means. Well it basically means to shut up. My grandmother from Canada would say it and she was originally from England. so I just added it in, plus it really sounds like some thing Iggy would say. at least I think so.