Fanfic: Secret
*******
Title: Secret
Author: slashy_lady, special thanks to frames_in_aria for editing
Rating: PG13
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Alfred/Arthur
Disclaimer: The characters involved in this story do not belong to me, nor do they have any connection to real nation(s). No infringement intended.
Some Kind of Summary: Going to museum was not the kind of activity that Alfred often entertained. But his visit to the museum that weekend with Arthur proved to be... quite an interesting experience.
Note: Written for arakni666 as part of usxuk's 2010 Secret Santa Fic/Art Exchange. May this fic please you.
The prompt being used is: 'Alfred takes Arthur to a modern art museum, where they try to figure out what an abstract painting really means, and it ends up being pretty dirty.'
*******
The day was quite an ordinary day, a normal Saturday mid-morning on the second week of November. The weather was fair, the air was crisp, a perfectly ordinary autumn day. Perhaps the only thing that seemed out of place was the fact that he, Alfred Jones, found himself standing inside the Museum of Modern Art in New York, trying hard to understand what something that looked like some chicken scratch might possibly mean.
“I think it’s supposed to be… some red elephants fighting a yellow blob monster and got disfigured in the process,” he concluded.
Beside him, Arthur rolled his eyes.
“It’s titled ‘Inspiration’, you dolt,” he said.
“Well, who said that ‘elephants got disfigured fighting unnamed yellow blob of evil’ is not inspiring?” Alfred retorted.
Arthur only clucked his tongue in such a condescending manner which made Alfred felt that Arthur must have been the one who invented the term ‘condescending’. And it wasn’t fair. It really wasn’t fair. Arthur was the one who wanted to visit the MOMA and Alfred had told him that he had little care about the art world. He had bluntly told Arthur that he was pants at reading the atmosphere, and he was even more of an idiot in deciphering those things they called modern artwork. Sure, some of them were nice. Sure, he could enjoy some paintings or sculptures or something. But when he faced a series of trashcan in a rectangular room, Alfred could not think of anything else than ‘man, the guy’s surely fond of aluminum trashcan’.
Alfred sighed as he followed Arthur to view another painting. He could have just stayed home and played video games. He could have just slept. Just why the hell Arthur insisted to be accompanied to visit the museum was something that’s beyond Alfred’s understanding.
He started to think if it was one twisted form of revenge from Arthur toward him.
While he was thinking over what he had done in the recent few days that might have annoyed Arthur, they came in front of a large canvas. It was so large that even ‘large’ could not really describe it. It occupied the majority of the section of the wall where it’s being displayed.
“Wow,” Alfred said. He nearly whistled, but somehow he could hold himself back.
The canvas held a painting, done in the shades of pink and red. At the center point of the painting, he could see specks of marigold. It was fascinating. And even though Alfred could hardly know what the artist was trying to convey by that painting, at least he could appreciate the beautiful blend of colors being used in it.
“That’s quite…” Arthur said. “…impressive.”
Alfred snorted. “I think the artist must be trying to compensate for something. I mean… what kind of guy use that big of a canvas only to state a point?”
“Don’t be rude,” Arthur said. He moved closer to examine a little placard under the painting.
“What’s it called?” Alfred asked as he moved behind Arthur. It was quite empty in that section of the museum so he dared circling Arthur’s waist with his arms, enveloping him in a loose embrace.
“Secret,” Arthur read the placard. He frowned. “Interesting.”
“What does it mean?” Alfred said. “What secret?”
Arthur shrugged in his embrace. “I don’t know.”
Alfred scrutinized the painting more closely. He turned his head to a side, then to another side, thinking.
“You think if we stare at it hard enough a hidden image might pop out?” he asked Arthur. “Or perhaps a secret message. Or a code. Oh, or perhaps a map to some hidden treasure.”
Arthur turned his face a bit to give him his ‘are-you-kidding-me’ look. “Now I’m really sure that those video games have corrupted you and decreased your IQ by at least 50 points.”
“Hey!” Alfred said. He tightened his embrace on Arthur a bit then whispered into his ear. “Let’s hear your theory, then, Mister Kirkland. What ‘secret’ do you think this painting is trying to show?”
Arthur stared at the painting for a full minute, then he said, “I don’t know.”
Feeling like he had just lost an important plot point, Alfred said, “Excuse me?”
Arthur shrugged. “I’m no expert in modern art, really…”
“Then why did you insist to visit Museum of Modern Art?” Alfred said in a voice that had enough hint of whine in it to make Arthur snort.
“Because even though I’m no expert in modern art, I can still enjoy it,” Arthur said. “Like this painting. I might be unable to understand what point the artist is trying to make, but I can appreciate the beauty of the painting itself.”
Arthur’s words sent Alfred thinking. It was true, what he said. He did not understand what ‘secret’ the artist wanted to share, but he could still enjoy the painting.
“Perhaps we could ask the artist,” Alfred said. “Or the gallery worker about the meaning of this painting.”
“Perhaps,” Arthur agreed. “But I’m alright with not knowing. After all, it’s a secret.”
Alfred chuckled. He kissed Arthur’s cheek briefly before he released him from his embrace. Reaching for his hand, he held it and was just about to take him to visit another section of the museum. But when they passed a stand holding a stack of pamphlets, he stopped in his step. His eyes caught the printed image of that painting that they had just viewed and his curiosity brought him to the stand.
He took a pamphlet, reading the information printed in it and burst out laughing.
“Alfred!” Arthur reprimanded him sharply, elbowing his rib. “Be quiet.”
“Sorry, sorry, but…” he chuckled and tried to speak at the same time. “Oh, man, this is precious. Apparently, the painting we just saw… God, I can’t believe it…”
Arthur frowned at him. “Are you okay?”
Alfred, still snickering, offered the pamphlet to Arthur, who snatched it from his hand. He watched Arthur’s expression, noticing the tinge of rose on Arthur’s cheeks and the rapid blinking of his eyes as he read the information in the pamphlet.
He was still snickering when Arthur returned the pamphlet back to him.
“So apparently…” Arthur began, his mouth twitched on the side, a sure sign that he was trying to contain his laughter. “That painting…”
“Is about vagina,” Alfred finished for him.
They stared at each other for a moment before both started to laugh. They tried not to be too loud, though, considering that they were still in the museum. But once their laughter seemed to die down, they would either take a look at the pamphlet, or the general direction of the painting itself, or each other, and they would start laughing again.
“Oh geez,” Alfred said as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “This is hilarious.”
“That’s art for you,” Arthur said.
“But seriously, that guy must be compensating for something,” Alfred said. “Using a canvas that big to paint a woman’s ‘secret’… that’s really rich. I wonder if next time there would be a six-feet-high painting of a dick colored in shades of blue and titled…”
“What?” Arthur asked. “Unconcealed?”
Alfred snorted. He slung his arm over Arthur’s shoulders and motioned him to walk with him.
“Nah,” he said. “If it were me, I’d title it ‘Mine’.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Mine?”
“Because if I’m crazy enough until I draw some six-feet-high dick in shades of blue, it would be yours,” Alfred said in confidence. “And we both know that it’s mine.”
“Confident much?” Arthur asked.
Alfred just proceeded to press his lips gently to the side of Arthur’s forehead, murmuring, “Considering that we’ve been together for nearly two decades, yes, I do feel confident.”
“I’ll surely start to reconsider our relationship if you dare making that painting for real though,” Arthur said.
“Well,” Alfred said with a grin, walking with Arthur to some secluded corner which showed nothing but several tires arranged in a seemingly random formation. “Good thing I have no intention to become a painter, then.”
Arthur just snorted and the next minute, they already launched themselves to another debate, this time about what those tires they saw were supposed to mean. Alfred insisted that they formed the secret symbol of some lost civilization while Arthur expressed his opinion that the artist must be trying to recreate some awful traffic accident.
All in all, Alfred thought as he debated with Arthur, visiting the museum did not turn out to be such a waste of his time. Yes, he could have spent the day playing video games. He could have spent the day sleeping. But he spent it with Arthur, visiting the Museum of Modern Art and taking a look on some extra huge picture that was said to be showing female genitalia.
Tightening his embrace on Arthur’s waist, Alfred smiled. They were having fun. And the day proved to be quite enjoyable.
He wondered, though, if people would believe him if he told them that he spent his weekend with Arthur staring at a six feet high painting depicting a woman’s sex.
End
(A/N: This is actually the second piece I did out of the three prompts. Way to go, self =_____=)
Title: Secret
Author: slashy_lady, special thanks to frames_in_aria for editing
Rating: PG13
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Alfred/Arthur
Disclaimer: The characters involved in this story do not belong to me, nor do they have any connection to real nation(s). No infringement intended.
Some Kind of Summary: Going to museum was not the kind of activity that Alfred often entertained. But his visit to the museum that weekend with Arthur proved to be... quite an interesting experience.
Note: Written for arakni666 as part of usxuk's 2010 Secret Santa Fic/Art Exchange. May this fic please you.
The prompt being used is: 'Alfred takes Arthur to a modern art museum, where they try to figure out what an abstract painting really means, and it ends up being pretty dirty.'
*******
The day was quite an ordinary day, a normal Saturday mid-morning on the second week of November. The weather was fair, the air was crisp, a perfectly ordinary autumn day. Perhaps the only thing that seemed out of place was the fact that he, Alfred Jones, found himself standing inside the Museum of Modern Art in New York, trying hard to understand what something that looked like some chicken scratch might possibly mean.
“I think it’s supposed to be… some red elephants fighting a yellow blob monster and got disfigured in the process,” he concluded.
Beside him, Arthur rolled his eyes.
“It’s titled ‘Inspiration’, you dolt,” he said.
“Well, who said that ‘elephants got disfigured fighting unnamed yellow blob of evil’ is not inspiring?” Alfred retorted.
Arthur only clucked his tongue in such a condescending manner which made Alfred felt that Arthur must have been the one who invented the term ‘condescending’. And it wasn’t fair. It really wasn’t fair. Arthur was the one who wanted to visit the MOMA and Alfred had told him that he had little care about the art world. He had bluntly told Arthur that he was pants at reading the atmosphere, and he was even more of an idiot in deciphering those things they called modern artwork. Sure, some of them were nice. Sure, he could enjoy some paintings or sculptures or something. But when he faced a series of trashcan in a rectangular room, Alfred could not think of anything else than ‘man, the guy’s surely fond of aluminum trashcan’.
Alfred sighed as he followed Arthur to view another painting. He could have just stayed home and played video games. He could have just slept. Just why the hell Arthur insisted to be accompanied to visit the museum was something that’s beyond Alfred’s understanding.
He started to think if it was one twisted form of revenge from Arthur toward him.
While he was thinking over what he had done in the recent few days that might have annoyed Arthur, they came in front of a large canvas. It was so large that even ‘large’ could not really describe it. It occupied the majority of the section of the wall where it’s being displayed.
“Wow,” Alfred said. He nearly whistled, but somehow he could hold himself back.
The canvas held a painting, done in the shades of pink and red. At the center point of the painting, he could see specks of marigold. It was fascinating. And even though Alfred could hardly know what the artist was trying to convey by that painting, at least he could appreciate the beautiful blend of colors being used in it.
“That’s quite…” Arthur said. “…impressive.”
Alfred snorted. “I think the artist must be trying to compensate for something. I mean… what kind of guy use that big of a canvas only to state a point?”
“Don’t be rude,” Arthur said. He moved closer to examine a little placard under the painting.
“What’s it called?” Alfred asked as he moved behind Arthur. It was quite empty in that section of the museum so he dared circling Arthur’s waist with his arms, enveloping him in a loose embrace.
“Secret,” Arthur read the placard. He frowned. “Interesting.”
“What does it mean?” Alfred said. “What secret?”
Arthur shrugged in his embrace. “I don’t know.”
Alfred scrutinized the painting more closely. He turned his head to a side, then to another side, thinking.
“You think if we stare at it hard enough a hidden image might pop out?” he asked Arthur. “Or perhaps a secret message. Or a code. Oh, or perhaps a map to some hidden treasure.”
Arthur turned his face a bit to give him his ‘are-you-kidding-me’ look. “Now I’m really sure that those video games have corrupted you and decreased your IQ by at least 50 points.”
“Hey!” Alfred said. He tightened his embrace on Arthur a bit then whispered into his ear. “Let’s hear your theory, then, Mister Kirkland. What ‘secret’ do you think this painting is trying to show?”
Arthur stared at the painting for a full minute, then he said, “I don’t know.”
Feeling like he had just lost an important plot point, Alfred said, “Excuse me?”
Arthur shrugged. “I’m no expert in modern art, really…”
“Then why did you insist to visit Museum of Modern Art?” Alfred said in a voice that had enough hint of whine in it to make Arthur snort.
“Because even though I’m no expert in modern art, I can still enjoy it,” Arthur said. “Like this painting. I might be unable to understand what point the artist is trying to make, but I can appreciate the beauty of the painting itself.”
Arthur’s words sent Alfred thinking. It was true, what he said. He did not understand what ‘secret’ the artist wanted to share, but he could still enjoy the painting.
“Perhaps we could ask the artist,” Alfred said. “Or the gallery worker about the meaning of this painting.”
“Perhaps,” Arthur agreed. “But I’m alright with not knowing. After all, it’s a secret.”
Alfred chuckled. He kissed Arthur’s cheek briefly before he released him from his embrace. Reaching for his hand, he held it and was just about to take him to visit another section of the museum. But when they passed a stand holding a stack of pamphlets, he stopped in his step. His eyes caught the printed image of that painting that they had just viewed and his curiosity brought him to the stand.
He took a pamphlet, reading the information printed in it and burst out laughing.
“Alfred!” Arthur reprimanded him sharply, elbowing his rib. “Be quiet.”
“Sorry, sorry, but…” he chuckled and tried to speak at the same time. “Oh, man, this is precious. Apparently, the painting we just saw… God, I can’t believe it…”
Arthur frowned at him. “Are you okay?”
Alfred, still snickering, offered the pamphlet to Arthur, who snatched it from his hand. He watched Arthur’s expression, noticing the tinge of rose on Arthur’s cheeks and the rapid blinking of his eyes as he read the information in the pamphlet.
He was still snickering when Arthur returned the pamphlet back to him.
“So apparently…” Arthur began, his mouth twitched on the side, a sure sign that he was trying to contain his laughter. “That painting…”
“Is about vagina,” Alfred finished for him.
They stared at each other for a moment before both started to laugh. They tried not to be too loud, though, considering that they were still in the museum. But once their laughter seemed to die down, they would either take a look at the pamphlet, or the general direction of the painting itself, or each other, and they would start laughing again.
“Oh geez,” Alfred said as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “This is hilarious.”
“That’s art for you,” Arthur said.
“But seriously, that guy must be compensating for something,” Alfred said. “Using a canvas that big to paint a woman’s ‘secret’… that’s really rich. I wonder if next time there would be a six-feet-high painting of a dick colored in shades of blue and titled…”
“What?” Arthur asked. “Unconcealed?”
Alfred snorted. He slung his arm over Arthur’s shoulders and motioned him to walk with him.
“Nah,” he said. “If it were me, I’d title it ‘Mine’.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Mine?”
“Because if I’m crazy enough until I draw some six-feet-high dick in shades of blue, it would be yours,” Alfred said in confidence. “And we both know that it’s mine.”
“Confident much?” Arthur asked.
Alfred just proceeded to press his lips gently to the side of Arthur’s forehead, murmuring, “Considering that we’ve been together for nearly two decades, yes, I do feel confident.”
“I’ll surely start to reconsider our relationship if you dare making that painting for real though,” Arthur said.
“Well,” Alfred said with a grin, walking with Arthur to some secluded corner which showed nothing but several tires arranged in a seemingly random formation. “Good thing I have no intention to become a painter, then.”
Arthur just snorted and the next minute, they already launched themselves to another debate, this time about what those tires they saw were supposed to mean. Alfred insisted that they formed the secret symbol of some lost civilization while Arthur expressed his opinion that the artist must be trying to recreate some awful traffic accident.
All in all, Alfred thought as he debated with Arthur, visiting the museum did not turn out to be such a waste of his time. Yes, he could have spent the day playing video games. He could have spent the day sleeping. But he spent it with Arthur, visiting the Museum of Modern Art and taking a look on some extra huge picture that was said to be showing female genitalia.
Tightening his embrace on Arthur’s waist, Alfred smiled. They were having fun. And the day proved to be quite enjoyable.
He wondered, though, if people would believe him if he told them that he spent his weekend with Arthur staring at a six feet high painting depicting a woman’s sex.
End
(A/N: This is actually the second piece I did out of the three prompts. Way to go, self =_____=)