Chapter 5
~o~
Alfred couldn't sleep a wink. He stared at his ceiling well into the morning, the only thing indicating the time the heat simmering from the blocked windows. By all rights, he should be sluggish and tired, but it felt as though every synapse was whirring overtime since that call. He didn't know what to think about all this. He didn't know why Arthur would suddenly, albeit drunkenly, make such a proclamation. Last he spoke with Arthur, they were arguing about that stupid book again. He didn't understand what would inspire Arthur to be so- He didn't even know what.
The front door opened at around noon. Alfred tensed, waiting for Arthur to come down to the basement. He never did, instead traversing the floor to head upstairs.
Alfred told himself not to think too much on it. His sleepless mind did not want to listen.
~o~
Arthur Kirkland
...
...
...
...
Alfred stared at his A-1 (aka Alfred senior) phone. The damned dots had been popping in and out of existence for a good half hour now. The author had yet to come down to the basement, despite the fact that it was 18 hours 48 minutes (12, no 13 seconds) since Arthur had drunk dialed him. Not that he was counting or anything.
It took a great deal for Alfred to lose his patience. After all, he was quite long lived. Things settled in an eventuality. He had long since learned that a single person was but a drop of water in the sea of the universe. Or whatever zen-y thing Kiku said. So usually, he never got too worked up about stuff. However, Arthur had a weird superpower of getting under his skin. Unable to take it anymore, the vampire decided to make a preemptive strike.
Art, you've been groundhogging me for a whole half hour. What's going on?
The reply came quickly, although it was not the outcome he hoped for.
Wtf is groundhogging?
Y'know when a groundhog keeps popping its head in and out of its hole.
...I literally have no words.
Arthur~ c'mon, you can talk to me. What's up?
Alfred felt disgustingly guilty for continuing this charade, but hell if he wouldn't use it to his advantage when Arthur was driving him nuts like this. There were a couple extra instances of the groundhogging again. Then after a wait, an email popped up in his inbox. Alfred stared at the subject: I Need to Tell You Something for a long moment, his stomach churning, before he clicked it open.
Alfred,
I do not know what, if anything, your son has told you. However, I have come to a realization recently that pertains to him. You should know that I have the greatest respect for him and I would never do anything to dishonour him. However, I have come to realize that I have tender feelings for him, the extent of which I have yet to fully discover myself.
That being said, I would like your blessing to find out. I can imagine the sound of that would cause you a great amount of apprehension, given my track record. Please know that I have never felt this way about anyone before. If I am being honest, it's frightening. Moreover, I do not even know if your son returns my sentiments.
You should know that I highly value your opinion on the matter. I know that I am significantly older than your son and that you are highly protective of him. I swear unto you that I will treat him with the greatest of care and I will continue to do so even if my affections are rejected. I love him, truly, with all my heart.
Yours,
Arthur
The vampire read the words over and over again, to the point that they were beginning to blur and become foreign to him. After many long moments, he realized that he had forgotten to breathe and the human habit suddenly kicked in. There. Arthur had said it. Maybe not directly to his face, but he had done it. However, this only heightened Alfred's anxiety rather than diminish it. He had hoped that knowing where Arthur's heart lay would provide some stabilizing force, but instead the knowledge had simply reeled him into frightened indecision. Alfred let out a shuddering breath, a tiny part of him wishing that Arthur had only made this all up while he was drunk and changed his mind later. He would have been heartbroken, yes, but it would have been so much easier.
Instead, he had the sensation of wading through a foggy mire, obstacles catching at his legs and threatening to trip him up as he strode forward. The only light ahead was a soft and hazy hope.
How could he think about letting anyone get close to him? Especially a human? Humans, they broke, they got old, they died. Arthur would be no different. And what of his cursed immortality? How could he keep this going with all the lies? How could he keep this going without the lies? Their entire relationship was a complete sham.
He never felt more like a fraud. Never mind the whole vampire thing. He'd befriended Arthur, been friends with him for more than half of Arthur's life, but then upon meeting he'd fabricated this complicated mess of assuming two different identities, both of whom now meant a lot to the Brit. Seriously, who did shit like that?
Alfred had very nearly talked himself out of it when he texted Arthur.
Hey, got your email.
So, if I say I don't want you to pursue Alfie, you won't right?
It was nearly a minute before Arthur responded.
No, I would do so regardless. It's too late, I already told him how I feel.
For a second, Alfred thought he could feel the phantom pounding of his long-dead heart beating quickly in his chest. Fingers trembling, he typed in his response.
What? I thought you cared about my opinion?
Oh, I do care. But to be perfectly frank, your son's opinion matters more than yours.
Well, it sounds like you're going to do it anyway whether I want you to or not.
Seems that way. Do I have your blessing?
The vampire stared at his phone, breathless. What little blood he had in his system redirected itself to his cheeks. I don't have a choice, he thought to himself. Arthur's taking this out of my hands. Besides, I can still say no in person. This doesn't have to go anywhere. Maybe Arthur will just get bored. Even he knew that his justifications were pretty pathetic, when he typed in his dubious response.
...Just be careful.
Alfred didn't know whether that warning was for Arthur or for him.
~o~
Just when Alfred didn't think he could turn into even more of an emotional mess, Arthur held out on him for another five whole days. Their interactions hardly changed on the surface, going through the same back and forth of anti-social landlord and exasperat(ed/ing) tenant. Yet every so often, Arthur would pause and give Alfred a considering look. One that would make Alfred flustered and nervy, which only translated to being more agitated in their conversations.
By movie night, Alfred was about ready to spill everything. Just so that Arthur would know that he knew, even though Arthur already knew that he knew because of the drunk call, which -by the way- why was Arthur not bringing that up at all, what was he doing torturing Alfred with anticipation like this?
It was Arthur's turn to pick the movie. It was some Shakespeare play, so Alfred prepared himself to be bored the entire time. (Shakespeare wasn't any good unless a good brawl broke out in his opinion.) The author brought out popcorn and red wine to the coffee table, settling himself on the other side of the sofa before he set the movie up. The words Henry V came up, before the screen turned into mediocre production tape and overly lyrical English.
It was all that Alfred could do not to blatantly stare at Arthur, his entire body tense. The unsaid thing was sitting between them like an elephant on the couch and the vampire's every nerve was jittery, hyper-aware of the warm body nearby. It was like the Want, yet he couldn't feel his teeth aching or his hunger urging him forward. Instead, he just felt like he would explode.
Alfred physically jerked, when Arthur's hand suddenly reached over and touched his shoulder. "Come lay down," he said gently. His own green eyes seemed to have a mesmerizing effect on the vampire, who nodded mutely and shifted to lay his head down on top of Arthur's lap. They'd both done this before. They were close friends. No big deal. No. Big. Deal.
Predictably, the Brit pulled a blanket up over Alfred, fussing that he was so cold (like always). His fingers went to Alfred's scalp, combing through the soft blond hair in slow soothing circles. This, Arthur had done before too. Yet Alfred had to fight down every urge to think that this was of any significance even when it felt like Arthur's fingers were charged with electricity. God, didn't Arthur realize what he was doing to him?
By Act 5, Alfred was such a bundle of nervous energy that he even drank a little bit of the wine that Arthur offered him. It was a mistake. His stomach roiled, not knowing what to do with the indigestible liquid, adding to his confused, cold, sweaty state of anxiety. So distressed, he almost missed the familiar words spoken from the scratchy record on screen.
...I cannot look greenly nor gasp out my eloquence, nor I have no cunning in protestation; only downright oaths, which I never use till urged, nor never break for urging...
Alfred went still. His eyes took in the players on the screen, the young English king and the French maiden he wooed for her affection.
...I speak to thee plain soldier: If thou canst love me for this, take me: if not, to say to thee that I shall die, is true; but for thy love, by the Lord, no; yet I love thee too...
His blue eyes flicked up to Arthur, meeting the author's own green. The monologue kept going, but Alfred was caught frozen in time. Arthur smiled down at him. His hand stayed atop Alfred's neck as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to his temple. His lips and his breath were so sweet and warm. Alfred could not help the faint tremble that went through him.
...but a good heart, Kate, is the sun and the moon; or, rather, the sun, and not the moon; for it shines bright and never changes, but keeps his course truly. If thou would have such a one, take me; and take me, take a soldier; take a soldier, take a king.
Then Arthur spoke softly, murmuring in perfect unison to the English king.
"...And what sayest thou then to my love? Speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee."
The vampire stared up at him, his breath shuddering softly. The play droned on, but neither of them were listening. Arthur watched him with those luminous green eyes, waiting silently for his reply. Alfred swallowed hard, then spoke shakily, heart pouring into every word, "I don't deserve the sun..."
Arthur blinked. Then his smile slowly widened. Cupping Alfred's cheeks, he leaned down to brush the mist away from his blue eyes. "Don't worry. I will never burn you."