Untitled (for now) [2/?]
anonymous
February 22 2010, 00:37:05 UTC
“Arthur?” Alfred plops down on the Englishman’s bed, twiddling his thumbs and looking down. “Hey, did I come on too strong this morning?” He’s chewing his bottom lip, looking truly concerned. “Listen, sorry about that, people always tell me I’m too forward and I was really hoping to have a good time with my roomie… I mean, it’s not everyday you get into the most prestigious high school in the world, y’know? I was just excited…”
And he looks so pitiful, just like a puppy in the rain, that Arthur simply has to sigh and say “No, it’s alright. I was a little harsh, I suppose.”
The sparkle in his eyes and those perfect teeth are back.
Well, that certainly didn’t take long, Arthur thinks, and turns back to the book in his hands.
“So, how’d you get in?”
There will be no peace tonight.
Arthur groans and sits up, wincing a little as he realizes he must look up a little to meet the other’s gaze. He straightens in an attempt to look taller.
“I worked as hard as I possibly good to improve my grades, and once they were high enough, I applied. You?”
“Scholarship.”
Arthur nearly chokes on his own saliva. “You’re smart enough to get a scholarship?” he asks, aghast, then immediately regrets it when he sees the hurt in the others eyes. “Sorry… I didn’t mean it like that.”
But Alfred is grinning and shaking his head. “Nah, it’s fine. Anyway, I’m here on a sports scholarship. Apparently I have some real skill in football.”
The pride in his face could have melted metal. “I just met with the coach earlier today. You know, right before I met you? He said he was excited to have someone like me on the team!”
“That’s nice.”
“Yeah! Plus, everyone here seems so nice. You’ve gotta meet my brother, Mattie. Oh, and this one Asian guy… Kiku, I think his name is…”
“Really?”
“Yeah, there are people from all over, y’know?”
They break off into another silence, listening to each other breathe.
“So, you excited for the first day tomorrow?” he looks so eager, so enthusiastic…
“Yes. Indubitably.” Arthur tries to flash him the same star-quality grin that Alfred is giving him.
It doesn’t work, and Alfred looks at him funny, climbing back to his own bed.
No, Arthur does not believe they will be getting along well at all.
Great start Author #2. Eager to see where yours will lead... :-)
Either Anon feel free to diverge as much from the original prompt as you feel necessary I swear I don't mind...I'm rather horrible at writing overly specific prompts though I don't mean them to be... *sighs*
ah, I've already outlined the whole story and besides, I love specific prompts, so this was actually perfect for me xD so I don't think I'll diverge from the original prompt. it's all up to you, author #2 :D
I reread author #2's again...I was going to use a football scholarship TT_TT
Well...that was the type of scholarship that I was thinking of when I wrote it as making the most sense for him so...great minds thinks alike I guess... ;-)
second author here! Gah! Sorry! Haha, I just thought football and Alfred went together well. And don't worry, I'mma veer off from the prompt a teeny bit. Nothing major, I swear, the story will still be the same, I just didn't want us to be writing the exact same thing.
Untitled (for now) [3/?]
anonymous
February 22 2010, 22:36:08 UTC
As the days progress, his opinion does not change in the slightest. His roommate is always making snide comments. Oh Gawd, Arthur, why do you read those boring books? Here, lemme show you this comic I found… Even your stuffy, proper self can appreciate it.
Seriously Arthur, you’re studying again? I get good grades easy, no studying required. Besides, you’d think with the amount you read you’d be getting perfect scores on everything.
Lighten up, man. You’re so stiff. I didn’t mean to knock over your lamp. Just because you spend all your time in here…
Hey, since I’m taller, d’you want me to help you out fixing the shelves? I mean, I could reach further up.
Alfred is so infuriating. Every smile, every touch, every word, making his heart beat that much faster…
And, despite his boorish attitude, he’s still so popular. The young man from Japan, Kiku Honda, has nothing but kind words to say, same with the brothers from Italy and the German upperclassman.
Arthur doesn’t know what they see in him.
He also doesn’t know why, when Alfred grasps his shoulders and practically begs him to watch the football team tryouts, he agrees.
Untitled (for now) [4/?]
anonymous
February 22 2010, 22:40:08 UTC
Couldn't fit it all into one post, so here ya go.
The bleachers are cold and hard, chilled in the cool autumn air. Whistles screech, pounding sharp notes into his ears. Arthur had never understood what was so great about sports. That is, until he saw Alfred play. His body, covered in all that bulky padding, still lithe and graceful as he twists and turns across the field. So determined, so muscular…
“Hello, you must be Arthur, eh?”
Arthur has to force his eyes away from the playing field in order to look up.
“That’s me, and who are you?”
The boy nearly jumps back, adjusting the glasses on his nose timidly. “I’m, uh, Matthew Williams,” he mumbles, looking down. “Al’s brother, he mentioned you and I just thought…”
It’s funny, Arthur muses, how the two brothers look so much alike, yet act so different.
“Well, Matthew, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
They shake hands, and Arthur chooses to ignore how Matthew winces at his grip. At least there’s someone who still does that. He turns his grassy eyes back to the turf. Alfred is removing his helmet, his golden hair shining as he shakes it out. He looks so alive, so vital, so exhilarated, a faint pink blush decorating his smooth cheeks…
“Are you listening, Arthur?”
He’s startled out of his reverie, and he regards Matthew apologetically. “Sorry, distracted. Would you repeat that?”
“Oh, it’s all right, that happens all the time, actually…” Matthew sighs, his lips forming a slight pout. “Anyway, I was just wondering if you were thinking of joining student council, eh? Al say’s you’re really conscientious, and we’re looking for some more members…”
“He said I was- I mean, me?” A balloon of air fills Arthur’s heart with pride. “Well, I’ve never been one to deny responsibility, so I’ll pay a visit!”
An all-too-familiar gleam of happiness sparkles in Matthew’s eyes, and he quickly mumbles out some words of thanks, picking up his books. “The old recital hall, we meet Tuesdays!” he shouts over his shoulder as he stumbles away.
Tryouts are over. Anyone with half a brain would know that Alfred had made the team, playing like that. Arthur waves at him from his seat on the cold metal.
But Alfred doesn’t look over, doesn’t even notice as his soon-to-be team members warmly clap him on the back. He only has eyes for Coach, who is patting him on the shoulder, grinning with those pearly white teeth, telling him to follow, that he has some things to discuss.
Why would the bastard practically beg him to come, if he was only going to ignore him? Arthur clenches his fists and turns on his heel, not looking at Alfred’s retreating form. Let him go back to the dorms by himself. He’s so popular, why should that matter to him, anyway?
Still Untitled >.> [5/?]
anonymous
February 23 2010, 02:12:27 UTC
It’s later when Alfred returns, bouncing up and down like a Chihuahua on speed. “Didja see me, Arthur?” he practically shouts, eyes wild and lit up. “Didja see me? Wasn’t I awesome! Everyone tells me I’m gonna be some sort of hero! It’ll be awesome.”
He doesn’t ask (Alfred never does), and plops himself down on Arthur’s bed, causing the latter’s teeth to clack together painfully.
“Ow, you git,” Arthur hisses, rubbing his now-sore jaw with one hand, and setting down his book with the other. “Be a little more careful, would you? And get off.”
One hard shove sends Alfred sprawling on the floor, and he glowers through clear glasses. “Hmph, fine. Don’t be happy for me.”
“Don’t you have your team for that?”
He pauses, taken aback, but Arthur seems set in his belief, so Alfred simply sighs and changes the subject. “You reading again? God, Arthur, do you ever stop? There are other things besides books, y’know?”
Arthur sends up a silent plea to keep his temper in check. “Like what, football? Oh yes. Riveting.” He reaches toward his neglected novel, only to have it be swiped out of his reach. “Alfred, give it back.”
“What are you reading, anyway?” Alfred purses his pink lips and squints at the title. “The Kite Runner, mm? Sounds gay.” He indelicately tosses the book back to a spluttering Arthur and observes the reaction.
Arthur turns a rather vivid shade of red, clutching the book as if it were a precious heirloom. “W-what did you say? Bloody bastard! This book is a piece of literature, not that your tiny brain could comprehend something like that. You probably think that books like Twilight are masterpieces, and that Batman is deeply complex.” He takes a step forward shaking his fist in almost comical anger. “Well, let me tell you something. You don’t know deeply complex. And calling a book of this stature ‘gay’ is an insult to every single English speaking human in existence, so please, if you’re going to say something that idiotic, keep your mouth shut.”
There is silence, broken only by Arthur’s heavy breathing. Alfred’s eyes are wide and blue, shocked. “Sorry, man, it was a joke…” His voice is small, lowered in repentance.
But Arthur is not ready to forgive so easily, and simply turns his back, flopping down on the springy mattress with his book cradled safely in his arms.
Alfred pauses for a moment, unsure whether to attempt to speak. “So, what’s it about?” He asks after a while.
The glare he receives could have caused doomsday. “It is about a young man who watches his best friend get raped and does bloody nothing about it. Now please, let me read.”
Still Untitled >.> [6/?]
anonymous
February 23 2010, 02:16:32 UTC
Once again, it’s evening before things get patched up. Arthur returns to the dorm, chatting uncharacteristically with one of his newfound friends, a sweet Lithuanian boy names Toris. Toris, despite his small size and stature, appears well learned and very mature. Arthur laments on how he would have much preferred him as a roommate, especially as the poor boy seems terrified of his own.
A creepy, childish giggle is heard from down the hall. Speak of the devil. His pink cheeks drain of color when he hears a cheery “Oh Tooooris…!” and he quickly scampers off, leaving Arthur alone. Alone with his roommate, who is opening the door and walking out and-
“Ow!”
“Ack!”
Alfred is the first to return to his senses. “Oh, God! Sorry Arthur! I didn’t mean to, I mean…” he trails off, face red, unsure of what to say. “I was just gonna go out and look for you. Listen, I’m really sorry about earlier, I wasn’t thinking…”
And there’s that sad puppy look again, stuck outside in the rain.
Arthur sighs and rubs his temples with one hand. “No, you weren’t, you git. I suppose I’ll need to lend you some of my books, to get you acquainted with real literature.” He cracks the slightest of smiles, and that’s enough to bring every twinkling light back into Alfred’s eyes.
“So, what did coach want to speak to you about?” Arthur asks, striding back into the dorm and switching on the computer.
Alfred’s excitement is about ready to burst from his skin. “He said I was really something special! That he thinks I have major potential.” He pulls up a chair next to Arthur. “He wants to meet up, just him and me, every couple of weeks to practice! Maybe I’ll even have a chance of being professional…” a contented sigh escapes his lips, and he leans back. “Plus, he said he’s gonna help me work through some stuff.” He bites his lip, chewing on the plump skin. “Don’t tell anyone, alright? But, me and my dad don’t really get along. You see, ever since I was little, he had it in his head that I was gonna join the military. And, well…”
“You don’t want to?” Arthur opens a Word document and begins to type.
“Can’t,” Alfred bursts out, then stops, flushing bright red and covering his mouth. “Uh, well, it’s a long story, but no military for me. And my dad is pretty pissed about that, so we aren’t really talking. Coach said he would help me out with that, though! Isn’t he awesome?”
“He sounds fantastic.” Click, click. Why is Alfred telling him this, when he has a whole group of soon-to-be teammates just dying to be his friends?
“Yeah. Well, thanks so much for listening, buddy! You’re a great friend!”
With a sharp clap on the back, Alfred gets up.
“Don’t you have a chemistry test tomorrow, Alfred?” Arthur sighs, not looking away from the screen.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. It’s okay though. That stuff is so easy.” And with that, he exits the dorm, whistling the Star-Spangled Banner.
Arthur pauses for one, two, three seconds, then sighs and pounds his fists on the keyboard. Why did Alfred have it so easy?
Just to clarify, the badtouch hasn't started just yet. =D
Re: Still Untitled >.> [6/?]
anonymous
February 23 2010, 20:03:04 UTC
You certainly have my attention, authoranon. I'm really curious about the subtle changes Alfred's personality will suffer when badtouch starts. Also, very nice realistic way to lure him, couch!Rome...he's annoying as all hell (another things you wrote very well), but I'm already feeling very sorry for the guy, and nothing's even happened yet... Oh, and Arthur's outburst. Oh, dear. I feel empathy. I've had my share of neurotic impassioned speeches about literature to idiots making fun of itXD complete with hugging of the book in question tooXD
Finally, just to tell you that I'm very glad you didn't go the "superopposites at war in high school", but just two guys with very little in common yet resigned to share quarters and strangely fond of each other in a way not even they cna epxlain...
Savior [7/?]
anonymous
February 24 2010, 02:45:27 UTC
The bell chimes, harsh and grating, and everyone files out of the library where meetings are held.
Tzipporah and Ludwig wave goodbye, as Matthew breaks off and takes hold of Arthur’s arm.
“Can I have a minute, eh?”
Student council is fantastic, Arthur decides, allowing himself to chuckle in earnest at the joke Matthew just cracked. The lad could be so funny at times. Plus, they kept him distracted from the looming terror of midterms. Arthur is sure he’ll ace the literature part, but as for everything else… His bed will need to be neglected in favor of studying for the next month or so.
Banishing such thoughts, he makes a mental note to thank Matthew for suggesting he join student council. These past few weeks have been the most stress-free all year. The crisp winter air, the scent of fresh baked cookies, the anticipation of Christmas…
“And Hanukkah!” Arthur hears Tzipporah chirp in his mind, and chuckles to himself once again.
However, there are a few things nagging at his sense of calm. First of all is, of course, midterms. Bloody stupid tests. Second would be the big holiday/end of midterms party, which, of course, student council will oversee all planning of. There will be no sleep for any of them, Arthur thinks with a groan. The third issue, however, he has been trying to repress, because it’s really not an issue, probably just his imagination, anyway, but why do people keep bringing it up? In fact, from the way Matthew is sitting, moving closer confidentially, Arthur knows exactly what’s coming.
“Hey, have you noticed anything weird with Al lately, eh? He seems different.” And there’s such concern brimming in those blue eyes, and Alfred’s probably just being dramatic… Maybe he got rejected by someone. Probably something silly like that.
Arthur doesn’t mean to snap when he says “You’re his brother, didn’t he talk to you about it?”
Matthew sighs and shakes his head, unaffected by the harsh tone. “Nah. We’re not really all that close. Parents are divorced.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugs. “Don’t be. Dad was always a little uptight.” Suddenly his expression darkens. “Talk to him, eh? I’m worried about him, and he trusts you. Won’t shut up about you, in fact, when I can get him to talk.”
“I… What? He does?” Arthur is taken aback, for once at a loss for words.
“Yeah. Promise you’d talk to him, eh?”
Arthur gives a mock salute. “I give you my word.”
Matthew grins, and the mood increases considerably. They exit the room, laughing about nothing in particular.
YAY TITLE. I was listening to the song, and I was like "hai. that would make a good title."
These compliments are making me feel all kinds of warm fuzzies, thank you all so much! 8D
And, ehm, Tzipporah is my Israel oc that I've never actually used before. Like ever.
Savior [8/?]
anonymous
February 24 2010, 02:49:35 UTC
The first place Arthur thinks to check is the football field, but Alfred is no where to be found. He would know that cocky grin and those strong arms anywhere, and they are not catching footballs on the turf. So Arthur resigns himself to going back to the dorms, knowing Al will show up some time. He has studying to do, anyway. He wonders where his roommate has gotten to. It’s not like him to miss practice like that, since he loves the game so much. Loves his coach so much.
So it’s a real shock when the dorm room door creaks open and there Alfred is, sprawled on his bed, reading a comic. He grins at Arthur with pearly teeth. “Hey there! Dude, check out this comic Kiku leant me. It’s totally cool, even if it’s not American.”
Arthur blinks. Alfred seems perfectly fine, and perfectly negligent of his activities. He speaks, careful not to let his annoyance show.
“Alfred, don’t you have football practice?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah…”
“And why are you not there?”
Alfred makes a very unconvincing attempt to look sick. “Not feeling well. Headaches, stomachaches, the works. Y’know?” He coughs feebly.
Arthur glares at him, unable to believe himself. Here Alfred is, star of the football team, getting personal help from the coach for God’s sake, and he has the nerve to skip practice for a simple headache?
“Hey, don’t look at me that way! It was serious earlier! I took some of your pills, and that’s why I’m feeling better.”
“You… What?” Sure enough, the lid on his case of painkillers is askew, and his supplies are sufficiently depleted. “How many did you take?”
“Three or four…”
“Three or… Alfred!” Arthur rubs his temples. He figures it would be in bad form to lecture Alfred about taking painkillers while popping a few himself, but it’s so tempting…
Alfred bites his lip, leaving darker red marks on the pale pink. “It’s not so bad! I’m not, like, high or anything. Besides, Co- someone. Someone asked me to meet up later and he made me swear I would. I swore I would… So I gotta feel better.”
Arthur sighs, taking a tablet and going to the computer. “Alright, alright. Just don’t take any more medicine. I don’t want to have to deal with your dead body if you OD.”
Alfred grins. Arthur doesn’t see, but he’s know him long enough to know that Alfred’s got that silly, arrogant grin plastered on his face.
And he looks so pitiful, just like a puppy in the rain, that Arthur simply has to sigh and say “No, it’s alright. I was a little harsh, I suppose.”
The sparkle in his eyes and those perfect teeth are back.
Well, that certainly didn’t take long, Arthur thinks, and turns back to the book in his hands.
“So, how’d you get in?”
There will be no peace tonight.
Arthur groans and sits up, wincing a little as he realizes he must look up a little to meet the other’s gaze. He straightens in an attempt to look taller.
“I worked as hard as I possibly good to improve my grades, and once they were high enough, I applied. You?”
“Scholarship.”
Arthur nearly chokes on his own saliva. “You’re smart enough to get a scholarship?” he asks, aghast, then immediately regrets it when he sees the hurt in the others eyes. “Sorry… I didn’t mean it like that.”
But Alfred is grinning and shaking his head. “Nah, it’s fine. Anyway, I’m here on a sports scholarship. Apparently I have some real skill in football.”
The pride in his face could have melted metal. “I just met with the coach earlier today. You know, right before I met you? He said he was excited to have someone like me on the team!”
“That’s nice.”
“Yeah! Plus, everyone here seems so nice. You’ve gotta meet my brother, Mattie. Oh, and this one Asian guy… Kiku, I think his name is…”
“Really?”
“Yeah, there are people from all over, y’know?”
They break off into another silence, listening to each other breathe.
“So, you excited for the first day tomorrow?” he looks so eager, so enthusiastic…
“Yes. Indubitably.” Arthur tries to flash him the same star-quality grin that Alfred is giving him.
It doesn’t work, and Alfred looks at him funny, climbing back to his own bed.
No, Arthur does not believe they will be getting along well at all.
Fuck I suck at posting on here. >.<
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I'm hoping our fills don't come out the same since this is such a specific storyline the OP has presented
but other than that, I like what you've written so far <3
reCaptcha: hippies only... I guess Captcha only wants hippies reading this fill :'D
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Either Anon feel free to diverge as much from the original prompt as you feel necessary I swear I don't mind...I'm rather horrible at writing overly specific prompts though I don't mean them to be... *sighs*
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ah, I've already outlined the whole story and besides, I love specific prompts, so this was actually perfect for me xD so I don't think I'll diverge from the original prompt. it's all up to you, author #2 :D
I reread author #2's again...I was going to use a football scholarship TT_TT
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Gah! Sorry! Haha, I just thought football and Alfred went together well. And don't worry, I'mma veer off from the prompt a teeny bit. Nothing major, I swear, the story will still be the same, I just didn't want us to be writing the exact same thing.
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His roommate is always making snide comments. Oh Gawd, Arthur, why do you read those boring books? Here, lemme show you this comic I found… Even your stuffy, proper self can appreciate it.
Seriously Arthur, you’re studying again? I get good grades easy, no studying required. Besides, you’d think with the amount you read you’d be getting perfect scores on everything.
Lighten up, man. You’re so stiff. I didn’t mean to knock over your lamp. Just because you spend all your time in here…
Hey, since I’m taller, d’you want me to help you out fixing the shelves? I mean, I could reach further up.
Alfred is so infuriating. Every smile, every touch, every word, making his heart beat that much faster…
And, despite his boorish attitude, he’s still so popular. The young man from Japan, Kiku Honda, has nothing but kind words to say, same with the brothers from Italy and the German upperclassman.
Arthur doesn’t know what they see in him.
He also doesn’t know why, when Alfred grasps his shoulders and practically begs him to watch the football team tryouts, he agrees.
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The bleachers are cold and hard, chilled in the cool autumn air. Whistles screech, pounding sharp notes into his ears. Arthur had never understood what was so great about sports. That is, until he saw Alfred play. His body, covered in all that bulky padding, still lithe and graceful as he twists and turns across the field. So determined, so muscular…
“Hello, you must be Arthur, eh?”
Arthur has to force his eyes away from the playing field in order to look up.
“That’s me, and who are you?”
The boy nearly jumps back, adjusting the glasses on his nose timidly. “I’m, uh, Matthew Williams,” he mumbles, looking down. “Al’s brother, he mentioned you and I just thought…”
It’s funny, Arthur muses, how the two brothers look so much alike, yet act so different.
“Well, Matthew, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
They shake hands, and Arthur chooses to ignore how Matthew winces at his grip. At least there’s someone who still does that. He turns his grassy eyes back to the turf. Alfred is removing his helmet, his golden hair shining as he shakes it out. He looks so alive, so vital, so exhilarated, a faint pink blush decorating his smooth cheeks…
“Are you listening, Arthur?”
He’s startled out of his reverie, and he regards Matthew apologetically. “Sorry, distracted. Would you repeat that?”
“Oh, it’s all right, that happens all the time, actually…” Matthew sighs, his lips forming a slight pout. “Anyway, I was just wondering if you were thinking of joining student council, eh? Al say’s you’re really conscientious, and we’re looking for some more members…”
“He said I was- I mean, me?” A balloon of air fills Arthur’s heart with pride. “Well, I’ve never been one to deny responsibility, so I’ll pay a visit!”
An all-too-familiar gleam of happiness sparkles in Matthew’s eyes, and he quickly mumbles out some words of thanks, picking up his books. “The old recital hall, we meet Tuesdays!” he shouts over his shoulder as he stumbles away.
Tryouts are over. Anyone with half a brain would know that Alfred had made the team, playing like that. Arthur waves at him from his seat on the cold metal.
But Alfred doesn’t look over, doesn’t even notice as his soon-to-be team members warmly clap him on the back. He only has eyes for Coach, who is patting him on the shoulder, grinning with those pearly white teeth, telling him to follow, that he has some things to discuss.
Why would the bastard practically beg him to come, if he was only going to ignore him? Arthur clenches his fists and turns on his heel, not looking at Alfred’s retreating form. Let him go back to the dorms by himself. He’s so popular, why should that matter to him, anyway?
Captcha: came in. Err...
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:-)
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He doesn’t ask (Alfred never does), and plops himself down on Arthur’s bed, causing the latter’s teeth to clack together painfully.
“Ow, you git,” Arthur hisses, rubbing his now-sore jaw with one hand, and setting down his book with the other. “Be a little more careful, would you? And get off.”
One hard shove sends Alfred sprawling on the floor, and he glowers through clear glasses. “Hmph, fine. Don’t be happy for me.”
“Don’t you have your team for that?”
He pauses, taken aback, but Arthur seems set in his belief, so Alfred simply sighs and changes the subject. “You reading again? God, Arthur, do you ever stop? There are other things besides books, y’know?”
Arthur sends up a silent plea to keep his temper in check. “Like what, football? Oh yes. Riveting.” He reaches toward his neglected novel, only to have it be swiped out of his reach. “Alfred, give it back.”
“What are you reading, anyway?” Alfred purses his pink lips and squints at the title. “The Kite Runner, mm? Sounds gay.” He indelicately tosses the book back to a spluttering Arthur and observes the reaction.
Arthur turns a rather vivid shade of red, clutching the book as if it were a precious heirloom. “W-what did you say? Bloody bastard! This book is a piece of literature, not that your tiny brain could comprehend something like that. You probably think that books like Twilight are masterpieces, and that Batman is deeply complex.” He takes a step forward shaking his fist in almost comical anger. “Well, let me tell you something. You don’t know deeply complex. And calling a book of this stature ‘gay’ is an insult to every single English speaking human in existence, so please, if you’re going to say something that idiotic, keep your mouth shut.”
There is silence, broken only by Arthur’s heavy breathing. Alfred’s eyes are wide and blue, shocked. “Sorry, man, it was a joke…” His voice is small, lowered in repentance.
But Arthur is not ready to forgive so easily, and simply turns his back, flopping down on the springy mattress with his book cradled safely in his arms.
Alfred pauses for a moment, unsure whether to attempt to speak. “So, what’s it about?” He asks after a while.
The glare he receives could have caused doomsday. “It is about a young man who watches his best friend get raped and does bloody nothing about it. Now please, let me read.”
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A creepy, childish giggle is heard from down the hall. Speak of the devil. His pink cheeks drain of color when he hears a cheery “Oh Tooooris…!” and he quickly scampers off, leaving Arthur alone.
Alone with his roommate, who is opening the door and walking out and-
“Ow!”
“Ack!”
Alfred is the first to return to his senses. “Oh, God! Sorry Arthur! I didn’t mean to, I mean…” he trails off, face red, unsure of what to say. “I was just gonna go out and look for you. Listen, I’m really sorry about earlier, I wasn’t thinking…”
And there’s that sad puppy look again, stuck outside in the rain.
Arthur sighs and rubs his temples with one hand. “No, you weren’t, you git. I suppose I’ll need to lend you some of my books, to get you acquainted with real literature.” He cracks the slightest of smiles, and that’s enough to bring every twinkling light back into Alfred’s eyes.
“So, what did coach want to speak to you about?” Arthur asks, striding back into the dorm and switching on the computer.
Alfred’s excitement is about ready to burst from his skin. “He said I was really something special! That he thinks I have major potential.” He pulls up a chair next to Arthur. “He wants to meet up, just him and me, every couple of weeks to practice! Maybe I’ll even have a chance of being professional…” a contented sigh escapes his lips, and he leans back. “Plus, he said he’s gonna help me work through some stuff.” He bites his lip, chewing on the plump skin. “Don’t tell anyone, alright? But, me and my dad don’t really get along. You see, ever since I was little, he had it in his head that I was gonna join the military. And, well…”
“You don’t want to?” Arthur opens a Word document and begins to type.
“Can’t,” Alfred bursts out, then stops, flushing bright red and covering his mouth. “Uh, well, it’s a long story, but no military for me. And my dad is pretty pissed about that, so we aren’t really talking. Coach said he would help me out with that, though! Isn’t he awesome?”
“He sounds fantastic.” Click, click. Why is Alfred telling him this, when he has a whole group of soon-to-be teammates just dying to be his friends?
“Yeah. Well, thanks so much for listening, buddy! You’re a great friend!”
With a sharp clap on the back, Alfred gets up.
“Don’t you have a chemistry test tomorrow, Alfred?” Arthur sighs, not looking away from the screen.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. It’s okay though. That stuff is so easy.” And with that, he exits the dorm, whistling the Star-Spangled Banner.
Arthur pauses for one, two, three seconds, then sighs and pounds his fists on the keyboard. Why did Alfred have it so easy?
Just to clarify, the badtouch hasn't started just yet. =D
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Very nice anon, very nice!
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Oh, and Arthur's outburst. Oh, dear. I feel empathy. I've had my share of neurotic impassioned speeches about literature to idiots making fun of itXD complete with hugging of the book in question tooXD
Finally, just to tell you that I'm very glad you didn't go the "superopposites at war in high school", but just two guys with very little in common yet resigned to share quarters and strangely fond of each other in a way not even they cna epxlain...
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Tzipporah and Ludwig wave goodbye, as Matthew breaks off and takes hold of Arthur’s arm.
“Can I have a minute, eh?”
Student council is fantastic, Arthur decides, allowing himself to chuckle in earnest at the joke Matthew just cracked. The lad could be so funny at times. Plus, they kept him distracted from the looming terror of midterms. Arthur is sure he’ll ace the literature part, but as for everything else… His bed will need to be neglected in favor of studying for the next month or so.
Banishing such thoughts, he makes a mental note to thank Matthew for suggesting he join student council. These past few weeks have been the most stress-free all year. The crisp winter air, the scent of fresh baked cookies, the anticipation of Christmas…
“And Hanukkah!” Arthur hears Tzipporah chirp in his mind, and chuckles to himself once again.
However, there are a few things nagging at his sense of calm. First of all is, of course, midterms. Bloody stupid tests. Second would be the big holiday/end of midterms party, which, of course, student council will oversee all planning of. There will be no sleep for any of them, Arthur thinks with a groan. The third issue, however, he has been trying to repress, because it’s really not an issue, probably just his imagination, anyway, but why do people keep bringing it up? In fact, from the way Matthew is sitting, moving closer confidentially, Arthur knows exactly what’s coming.
“Hey, have you noticed anything weird with Al lately, eh? He seems different.” And there’s such concern brimming in those blue eyes, and Alfred’s probably just being dramatic… Maybe he got rejected by someone. Probably something silly like that.
Arthur doesn’t mean to snap when he says “You’re his brother, didn’t he talk to you about it?”
Matthew sighs and shakes his head, unaffected by the harsh tone. “Nah. We’re not really all that close. Parents are divorced.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugs. “Don’t be. Dad was always a little uptight.” Suddenly his expression darkens. “Talk to him, eh? I’m worried about him, and he trusts you. Won’t shut up about you, in fact, when I can get him to talk.”
“I… What? He does?” Arthur is taken aback, for once at a loss for words.
“Yeah. Promise you’d talk to him, eh?”
Arthur gives a mock salute. “I give you my word.”
Matthew grins, and the mood increases considerably. They exit the room, laughing about nothing in particular.
YAY TITLE. I was listening to the song, and I was like "hai. that would make a good title."
These compliments are making me feel all kinds of warm fuzzies, thank you all so much! 8D
And, ehm, Tzipporah is my Israel oc that I've never actually used before. Like ever.
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So Arthur resigns himself to going back to the dorms, knowing Al will show up some time. He has studying to do, anyway. He wonders where his roommate has gotten to. It’s not like him to miss practice like that, since he loves the game so much. Loves his coach so much.
So it’s a real shock when the dorm room door creaks open and there Alfred is, sprawled on his bed, reading a comic. He grins at Arthur with pearly teeth. “Hey there! Dude, check out this comic Kiku leant me. It’s totally cool, even if it’s not American.”
Arthur blinks. Alfred seems perfectly fine, and perfectly negligent of his activities. He speaks, careful not to let his annoyance show.
“Alfred, don’t you have football practice?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah…”
“And why are you not there?”
Alfred makes a very unconvincing attempt to look sick. “Not feeling well. Headaches, stomachaches, the works. Y’know?” He coughs feebly.
Arthur glares at him, unable to believe himself. Here Alfred is, star of the football team, getting personal help from the coach for God’s sake, and he has the nerve to skip practice for a simple headache?
“Hey, don’t look at me that way! It was serious earlier! I took some of your pills, and that’s why I’m feeling better.”
“You… What?” Sure enough, the lid on his case of painkillers is askew, and his supplies are sufficiently depleted. “How many did you take?”
“Three or four…”
“Three or… Alfred!” Arthur rubs his temples. He figures it would be in bad form to lecture Alfred about taking painkillers while popping a few himself, but it’s so tempting…
Alfred bites his lip, leaving darker red marks on the pale pink. “It’s not so bad! I’m not, like, high or anything. Besides, Co- someone. Someone asked me to meet up later and he made me swear I would. I swore I would… So I gotta feel better.”
Arthur sighs, taking a tablet and going to the computer. “Alright, alright. Just don’t take any more medicine. I don’t want to have to deal with your dead body if you OD.”
Alfred grins. Arthur doesn’t see, but he’s know him long enough to know that Alfred’s got that silly, arrogant grin plastered on his face.
No need to turn to make sure.
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