Alfred stood at the beach, wriggling his toes in his overly sandy flip flops and eyes locked on the rolling sea. He stuffed his hands in his cargo shorts pockets and let out a drawn out breath, exchanging it for salty ocean air. Cocking his head to the side, Al observed the warm colors of the sunset mix together like oil paints on a canvas. The hues of the paints slowly shifted to cooler pigments and indicated that it was almost time to go inside.

Goldilocks went to turn around towards home, but a shadowed figure caught his attention. Alfred squinted into the semi far distance and configured it was indeed a person, and that that person had fallen into the ocean from one of the rocky ledges offshore. His bulky shoulders shrugged, seeing it as a diver having fun, and he proceeded the way back to the house. Though, he couldn't help but to acknowledge the soft pattering of water and muffled shouting behind him. Alfred decided to stagger the entire way, just to make sure they were all right. But the noise died down and he began to worry immensely.

The American disobeyed his gut and bolted for the shore, sliding from his sandals and tossing his glasses for the sand. He stripped from his bottoms and gazed over the water to reevaluate his disposition. He saw diminished movement, tired movement, and he whipped off his shirt as a final decision. Alfie dove into the water in pursuit of the missing swimmer, and went as far out as he determined them to be. As he looked around, he discovered them to be nowhere in sight.

The athlete held his breath and forcefully sank to the ocean floor, prying open his eyelids and scanning the area. He found that it was a man, and he had seemed to stop moving completely. Alfred swam towards him and kept the frail body close to his muscular one. He seamlessly stroked ashore with the man, but struggled to be gentle with him as he was laid on the sand.

Alfred stared confusedly at him and cupped his deathlike face, pleading, "C'mon, bro! Are you alive?!"

He brought his ear to the victim's mouth and, much to his relief, a couple jagged breaths exhaled. Alfred still panicked, muttering, "Shit, I have to do CPR, don't I?! Which one?! Is there even a difference?!"

Al broke the ice by pinching the stranger's nose to test if he would wake up, but to no avail. He compromised and lowered his tanned body to begin resuscitation. He suddenly noticed how young the man actually looked, and that he wasn't even a man, at all. The teen's thick eyebrows illuded him to look older than he actually was. Alfred gulped and forced a breath into the foreign body, the corners of his mouth dragged into an askew frown, and went down a second time. The adolescent unexpectedly jumped up and sputtered, Alfred alleviated. His almost iconic eyebrows rose in discomfort as his coughing became rapid and wet, and Al sat on the back of his legs to helplessly observed him suffer. The stranger's grass green eyes widened and he turned away from company to vomit what water was in his his stomach and lungs. Alfred squirmed as a feeling of uneasiness clouded over him. The teenager ran his bony fingers through his salty ash blond mop as Alfred figured it to be a safe time to approach.

"Are you okay?"

The straight browed boy stared him, and then around the place. His painfully obvious British accent spoke for him, "Where am I?"

"I saw you fall from those rock ledges over there," Alfred pointed, the boy glanced over yonder. "And I swam out to save you."

As Al's reasoning continued, the faery tale blond shuddered in his ivory skin. With this, it shut the jock up and made him realize his duties. His mouth formed and 'oh' as he scurried all around the beach to retrieve his clothing. Alfie offered, "Here, I don't have a towel, so you'll have to dry off with this."

The strange boy slowly accepted his offering and started wiping his face and hair with the t shirt. A long few moments of silence were broken when the mysterious guy asked, "Why did you find me?"

"Because," Alfred secretly took offense. "I couldn't leave you there to drown." They remained in a constant state of nothingness until he continued, "What's your name?"

He hesitantly responded, "A-Arthur Kirkland."

All Alfred heard was how the stark accent rang through his head like Sunday church bells, but responded, "I'm Alfred. Alfred F. Jones."

"Hello, Alfred," Arthur nodded. He pulled the superhero t-shirt over his petite shoulders and shivered, chattering his teeth quietly. Alfred pulled back his eyelids and scrambled for his shorts, sliding them on and offering, "Why don't we go to my house?"

Arthur's mouth immediately retracted to a frown, "W-What?"

"You're cold," Al pointed out, motioning to the boy's sitting position on the sand. "My place is just over there."

Alfred gave his palm for Arthur to grab, but it took a bit of clownish encouragement to. "C'mere, dude! I'm not a rapist, promise!"

Arthur gave a small smile and took his hand. Alfred used too much force to pull him up, and accidently slammed the poor boy into his rock hard pex. Arthur instantly threw himself off and apologized. They brushed off the incident and ventured for the fit boy's home.

Upon arriving, Alfred checked the parking lot and peered through the living room windows to ensure the coast was clear. He walked through the front door and kept Arthur trailing behind him to his bedroom. There, he rummaged through his dresser drawers for the smallest articles of clothing he could possibly have.

He retrieved a pair of black joggers and the tiniest t-shirt he could find, and presented them to the alien. Arthur figetedly accepted the pile and Alfred led him to the bathroom to change in private. Al discarded his clothing for fresh ones, as well, wondering the stranger's origin or story. Speak of the Devil, Arthur emerged from the lavatory as he examined the boy.

"Um, sorry," Alfred rubbed the back of his heated neck. "Those were the smallest clothes I could find."

The Englishman glanced down at the American flag shirt and said, "It is pretty ironic, but I can't complain."

Alfred lowered his lids at the sight of the boy in his casual clothing. And the fact that he was slightly attractive at the moment probably contributed the most. The ash blond brought him back from cloud nine as he mentioned, "Uh, thanks for your help, and everything. But…"

Alfred tilted his head in a perplexed angle, "But what?"

"But I don't know where I am. Or where I came from, for that matter."

Al's head filled with fantasies of the foreigner and interrogated a little further, "Want me to take you home?" Arthur nodded his head and the American smacked him on the back, "Cool! Let's go!"

The pair exited the house and travelled across the cool, grainy sand once more. The further they went, the more Alfred just wanted to say fuck it, and take the boy home for himself. It seemed that none of the homes were remotely familiar, and he couldn't even find his family car or any other landmarks. But who could blame him? It was dark as Hell outside and was blurry, for some odd reason. Alfred paused in his tracks and brought his hands to his face.

"Shit, I thought something was wrong!" he whipped his head towards the coastline. "I must've left my glasses in the water!"

Arthur hung his head low and apologized, "Sorry about that. I'll get you another pair if-"

"Nah, it's fine," Alfred brushed off casually. "Besides, I more than likely have a spare lying around someplace."

Arthur hummed in agreeance, as they kept their search. It felt like they had been wandering around in circles for hours, although only approximately thirty minutes passed by. The Englishman had finally rediscovered his home and ran up the front steps. After opening the door, the pair stood awkwardly at the entrance, Arthur shuffled his feet in Alfred's lightweight moccasins.

"So, thanks for everything," green eyed mumbled. Al nodded his head.

"Can I ask you to do something for me?"

"Sure," Arthur seemed to be desperate to repay his debt.

"Meet me at the beach tomorrow," making Arthur raise his beetle brows in confusion. "I want to make sure that you don't get sick or anything."

"Okay?"

"Alright."

"So," Arthur glanced back, "see you tomorrow?"

"See ya tomorrow."

Alfred left the property and smiled the entire way home, but he wasn't completely sure why. He hopped into bed that night with wriggling anticipation, dreaming of green grass and clear blue skies.