[fic] I Think I'd Like That
TITLE: I Think I'd Like That
AUTHOR: binnin
RECIPIENT: takanobaka
WORD COUNT: 2,600
GENRE: Fluff
RATING: ...pretty damned G
WARNINGS: N/A
SUMMARY: Alfred does something he's really not supposed to do, but it kind of pays off in the end, anyway.
NOTES: WOW. I am so sorry this is a couple days late. I had some issues with the beta and how they decided to rearrange February's calendar, and today just. Wasn't a very good day and prevented me from posting. BUT HERE IT IS, and I'm really sorry about it being late, again! Please forgive me!
I Think I'd Like That
The first time Alfred spots Arthur, it's when he's jogging by the soup kitchen window one afternoon. He's sitting inside at a table by his lonesome, sipping slowly at whatever he's got in his cup, and taking only one small bite at a time of his sandwich. Of course, Alfred doesn't know Arthur's name yet, but every afternoon, Alfred spots him. Same spot, same time. It's like that from Monday to Friday for two and a half weeks.
It's on a Thursday afternoon when Alfred notices that Arthur's not there. So instead of shrugging it off as many would, Alfred slows his run and enters the soup kitchen. Ten minutes later, Alfred knows Arthur's name (Arthur Kirkland), his heritage (English), and the fact that Arthur has been homeless for at least two months. He knows that Arthur may be polite, but only because he feels he has to be, and that he's otherwise short with everyone he speaks to. Alfred knows that Arthur eats there a minimum of once a day, probably the only food he gets, and he eats just one small cup of soup, drinks one small tea, and eats one slice of bread.
Professionally, Alfred's a police officer. His shifts are usually all over the place, but he usually has a late afternoon to late night (or early morning, sometimes) shift. He's not particularly new to the force; his dad was a police officer, and both he and his dad had served. Danger is something he's used to, and surprise is something that can be a deadly thing.
Unfortunately, it's not always him that's in danger.
-
Since then, the next time Alfred spots Arthur is one week later, at approximately 3:30 in the morning. (Technically it's a Saturday.) Alfred's just gotten off his shift, and he's incredibly tired after chasing the latest delinquent around. He's on the verge of falling asleep walking to his door when he sees Arthur. He's hidden only by the darkness-in daylight he would make an obvious sight.
Alfred knows what he's supposed to do; he knows what protocol demands. But Alfred doesn't really think it's appropriate right now. Maybe it's his need to be the hero all the time, or maybe it's because he feels he knows Arthur well enough. Whatever the reason, Alfred shakes his head and picks Arthur up as best as he can as it's pretty clear that Arthur isn't walking another step. He can't really tell if Arthur's awake, but Alfred can just hear him breathing, and that's always a good sign.
It's a bit awkward, but Alfred manages to get Arthur inside and lay him down on the couch, and pull a blanket over him. If Arthur wasn't sleeping before, he certainly is now. Alfred's intent is to turn and head to his room, but now that Alfred is actually getting a good look at him, he can see just how fragile Arthur looks. There are dark, heavy bags under his eyes, and Alfred has a feeling that his throat should show off everything beneath like it is. Arthur is lighter; lighter than he really should be, Alfred recalls from carrying him in. Well, that simply won't do.
-
The next morning, as Alfred's walking through the living room to the kitchen after a shower, he catches the sound of someone taking a sharp breath of air, and then a set of horrible coughing with a few mangled and unintelligible words hacking their way out. So Alfred stops and looks over as the coughing finally ends, and watches as Arthur sits up. Arthur's eyes are wide as he looks around, and spots Alfred, and immediately opens his mouth just in time for Alfred to start talking.
“You're awake!” he exclaims. “How you feeling?”
“Who are you? Where am I?” Arthur asks immediately. “What do you want from me?”
Alfred holds up his hands, trying to keep a smile on his face. “I'm Alfred F. Jones, I'm a police officer in the city-”
Before Alfred can get much more out, he can see Arthur tense up. Cruel as it is, being homeless has its illegality. Not that Alfred has any intention of reporting anything. “You're safe here,” he assures. “I'm not telling anyone about your situation.”
“What do you know of my situation?”
“Not much,” Alfred admits. He puts his hands down but he keeps his distance. He's not known Arthur for long, but there's a way he holds himself that tells Alfred that if he wanted to, Arthur could probably find any kind of way out of … anything. (Not that his current health would permit it. Probably.) “Listen, you were the one laying out-cold in front of my house, okay? Don't you think you should be a little grateful?”
“Grateful to be on some strangers couch?!” Arthur stands quickly- “At least I would have awoken on something familiar out there! Oh...” but he quickly falls back to the couch holding his head.
“You mean a jail cell? Look.” Alfred sat down, slumping over a bit “You can stay here, safe, for a while to get back on your feet. Food, health, shelter, clothes; we can go get your ID and all, too. Or, once you're at least fed a little bit, you can walk out the door and either end up in jail or die. It's your choice.”
Arthur glares, but it's more soft and sad than threatening. This is clearly a big blow to his pride, or something.
-
Two days later, Arthur agrees to stay until everything is back in order.
-
Once he's able to move around without getting lightheaded, and once he's gotten substantial strength back, he helps out.
The first thing Alfred buys for Arthur are some clothes. Whatever Arthur's used to wearing on the street simply won't do. So while Arthur's busy in the shower, Alfred steals out to buy some jeans, slacks, some shirts, the whole nine yards. He's fairly certain they'll fit, but he gets some belts just in case. In the end, Arthur prefers the slacks and button-up shirts, but more than once Alfred catches him in jeans and a regular t-shirt. (Soon enough the belts aren't needed, and that's actually really cool.)
Arthur gets the den as his room. Alfred helps clear it out so they can clean and get some furniture in there. The sofa, already there, has a pull-out bed that, surprisingly, isn't half-bad. (“It's certainly more comfortable than what I'm used to.”) A small night-stand is set up with a lamp, and the bed gets some really soft sheets. Later that day, Alfred takes Arthur to the library to check out some books for him to pass the time.
While Alfred's at work, Arthur cleans like a mad-man. With the money Alfred leaves him, Arthur goes to buy almost 50 dollars worth of cleaning supplies, and when Alfred steps in, the fresh scent of lemon just tickles his nose. There's not a speck of dust anywhere, and the carpets and wood floors are colors Alfred just doesn't remember them being. Alfred certainly wasn't dirty, and he kept his house clean, but this.... This was a whole new level.
One of Arthur's hobbies is gardening, and it's not long before the weedy bushes out front actually give Alfred's house more curb appeal. It's not long before there are flowers adding some splashes of color, and the back yard turns from mostly dull grass and dirt to something far more inviting, and comfortable. A few weeks of watering, some rose bushes; even some patio furniture. It almost makes Alfred contemplate getting a dog.
Arthur tries cooking, but returning home that night.... Alfred assures Arthur that take-out and left-overs are just fine.
-
One evening several weeks later, after a rather uneventful shift, Alfred comes home, slips his shoes off, unloads himself of any extra equipment, and takes his uniform top off. He untucks the t-shirt underneath, and quickly stops by the laundry room to change into some pajama bottoms for comfort. “Arthur!” he calls, fixing the waist band. There's no answer, so Alfred steps around to Arthur's room. He's not there, and several more steps discovers he's not in the bathroom, or watching TV, or eating. It worries Alfred quite a bit. What if Arthur's decided to leave?! He could at least have warned Alfred ahead of time, or left a note, or something. It's not like Alfred's grown used to Arthur's presence, or anything....
There's only one other place he might be at this time, and that's in the back, so Alfred hurries and rushes to the sliding back door, and just as he's reached it, he can see Arthur sitting at the patio table, reading something with a smile on his face. He looks like he belongs there; he looks happy, and with the sky turning from pink to purple with the sun setting, he just-.
There's nowhere else Alfred ever wants Arthur to be. Alfred grins to himself, and just a few seconds later, right after Arthur turns a page in his book, Arthur looks up and smiles and waves to Alfred before returning to whatever world he was immersing himself in.
It's a bit awkwardly that Alfred turns back and goes to take a shower.
Actually, it's really super awkward.
-
What with things calming down and getting Arthur's identification information all in order, Alfred decides to have a movie night. Movie night ends up becoming Let's Ditch The Movie You're British Let's Watch Doctor Who night. Sadly, that later becomes, I Can't Believe You You Are A Police Officer And Can't Even Watch An Episode Of Doctor Who It's Only The Silence night. (Which is also known as Please Come Sleep With Me Tonight At Least Stay Until I Fall Asleep night.)
It's actually a bit of a relief when Alfred wakes up to find Arthur still there, and he blushes only when he realizes that Arthur's hand is on top of his. Alfred makes sure not to move, but it's not long after that Arthur starts waking up, and moves his hand to stretch his arm upwards. He finally comes to himself enough to still and look around as best as he can. Alfred finally snorts in amusement, and says, “Morning.”
“...Morning. Oh yes, that's right, you were too frightened to sleep alone, I remember.”
So much for the awkward wake-up, Alfred thinks. Just skip to morning humiliation.
“Yeah, well you also fell asleep before me! Which I told you not to do!”
Arthur rolls his eyes and sits up. “You didn't tell me that. You may have implied it, but you didn't-”
“I implied you not to!”
Arthur shakes his head. “It's a good thing you're a police officer and not an English teacher.”
Alfred sits up, then, and says after a moment, “There's an maybe-opening at the station. They're thinking of firing one of the receptionists. She's always late, and she does a pretty crappy job. I was wondering if you might want it.”
Immediately Arthur's eyes light up, and he nods vigorously. “Absolutely!” he says. “Anything!”
With the last two months behind them, with Alfred discovering new things about Arthur, each thing is a switch, and Alfred thinks that this last one shines Arthur at his best. There's no denying that Alfred may have fallen a little bit for him, and there's really no way he wants Arthur gone.
Arthur flings out of bed saying just the opposite though. “I can finally get some money, and, if you don't mind, might I stay until I have enough for a flat?”
“Duh,” Alfred answers. And he adds, muttering, “You don't have to ever move out,” but it's just as Arthur's finished talking to himself, and he's within hearing range.
Arthur slows down and turns to stare. “What was that?” he asks, but he really doesn't need it repeated, does he? There's a new pink in his cheeks that makes something grow warm inside Alfred, and whatever it is it makes something seize up. Alfred's been in some pretty rough spots, and in some dangerous situations, there's no doubt. But now, something so … mundane? is making him nervous.
“I-I uh.” Alfred tries really hard to think of something, but with each hesitating, “Uh,” or, “Um,” Alfred gives himself away. So he coughs and looks at the ceiling. “I just. You don't have to leave. Move out. You can always stay here. ...You know. With me.”
Not long after that Alfred's head hits the headboard, and hard. Arthur is half on top of him with a knee in the side, and hand pressed hard in Alfred's collar bone. The only thing coming out of Alfred's mouth is a steady stream of, “Ow, ow, ow, fuck, ow,” whereas with Arthur it it's closer to, “Oh, Lord, Alfred, I am so sorry!” as he scrambles off of Alfred and goes to grab a pack of ice.
Alfred, meanwhile, sits up holding the back of his head, biting back any tears that may have sprung up. (Because he is a police officer, and what kind of police officer cries, right?) So instead Alfred just tries to focus on something else instead of the pounding, burning pain. Not that it helps much, but Arthur's back with the ice and rushing over.
“Alfred, I am so, so sorry; I really am!” he keeps saying
Alfred tries really hard to laugh it off. “It's cool, just wondering why you'd jump-attack me. Did you hate the idea that much?”
Apparently that's the wrong assumption, because Arthur presses the ice pack a little too hard. “You idiot! I was happy! I was trying to-” Arthur hesitates, his face becoming a darker shade than before. “Oh, it doesn't matter. I'm just sorry for hurting you, all right? Now hush and get better!”
“Just like that?”
“Yes!”
Arthur looks away determinedly and is on the verge of pouting, which is kind of adorable, and Alfred just rolls his eyes before leaning forward to press a kiss to Arthur's cheek. His lips linger there, and he can feel the heat growing, and he can feel Arthur trying hard not grin, or smile. So finally, more assured than before, Alfred sits back and doesn't realize that the ice pack is missing.
“Was that what you were trying to do?” he asks.
Arthur is still trying his hardest not to smile, and starts playing frantically with the bottom hem of his shirt. “Of-of course not! What do you take me for? A pervert? I was making sure your reflexes were still in … in working order, which apparently they're not!” Arthur stands up quickly, tossing the ice on to the bed. “Now, I've got to go-”
He's maybe only two steps away before Alfred grabs at his sleeve and pulls him down. There's only a brief moment of scrabbling before Alfred's holding Arthur's face in place to kiss him. The position's a bit awkward, with Arthur laying half-on and half-off of Alfred, but it manages to work out, if Arthur kissing him back is supposed to mean anything. And he really, really hopes it does.
It's not long before they break, and both of their faces are glowing, with small smiles slowly growing on them.
“Did you want to stay?” Alfred asks. “Cuz I'd like that.”
“I.... I think I'd like that very much, as well.”
This time Arthur manages to (properly) kiss Alfred, and they stay like that for much, much longer.
AUTHOR: binnin
RECIPIENT: takanobaka
WORD COUNT: 2,600
GENRE: Fluff
RATING: ...pretty damned G
WARNINGS: N/A
SUMMARY: Alfred does something he's really not supposed to do, but it kind of pays off in the end, anyway.
NOTES: WOW. I am so sorry this is a couple days late. I had some issues with the beta and how they decided to rearrange February's calendar, and today just. Wasn't a very good day and prevented me from posting. BUT HERE IT IS, and I'm really sorry about it being late, again! Please forgive me!
I Think I'd Like That
The first time Alfred spots Arthur, it's when he's jogging by the soup kitchen window one afternoon. He's sitting inside at a table by his lonesome, sipping slowly at whatever he's got in his cup, and taking only one small bite at a time of his sandwich. Of course, Alfred doesn't know Arthur's name yet, but every afternoon, Alfred spots him. Same spot, same time. It's like that from Monday to Friday for two and a half weeks.
It's on a Thursday afternoon when Alfred notices that Arthur's not there. So instead of shrugging it off as many would, Alfred slows his run and enters the soup kitchen. Ten minutes later, Alfred knows Arthur's name (Arthur Kirkland), his heritage (English), and the fact that Arthur has been homeless for at least two months. He knows that Arthur may be polite, but only because he feels he has to be, and that he's otherwise short with everyone he speaks to. Alfred knows that Arthur eats there a minimum of once a day, probably the only food he gets, and he eats just one small cup of soup, drinks one small tea, and eats one slice of bread.
Professionally, Alfred's a police officer. His shifts are usually all over the place, but he usually has a late afternoon to late night (or early morning, sometimes) shift. He's not particularly new to the force; his dad was a police officer, and both he and his dad had served. Danger is something he's used to, and surprise is something that can be a deadly thing.
Unfortunately, it's not always him that's in danger.
-
Since then, the next time Alfred spots Arthur is one week later, at approximately 3:30 in the morning. (Technically it's a Saturday.) Alfred's just gotten off his shift, and he's incredibly tired after chasing the latest delinquent around. He's on the verge of falling asleep walking to his door when he sees Arthur. He's hidden only by the darkness-in daylight he would make an obvious sight.
Alfred knows what he's supposed to do; he knows what protocol demands. But Alfred doesn't really think it's appropriate right now. Maybe it's his need to be the hero all the time, or maybe it's because he feels he knows Arthur well enough. Whatever the reason, Alfred shakes his head and picks Arthur up as best as he can as it's pretty clear that Arthur isn't walking another step. He can't really tell if Arthur's awake, but Alfred can just hear him breathing, and that's always a good sign.
It's a bit awkward, but Alfred manages to get Arthur inside and lay him down on the couch, and pull a blanket over him. If Arthur wasn't sleeping before, he certainly is now. Alfred's intent is to turn and head to his room, but now that Alfred is actually getting a good look at him, he can see just how fragile Arthur looks. There are dark, heavy bags under his eyes, and Alfred has a feeling that his throat should show off everything beneath like it is. Arthur is lighter; lighter than he really should be, Alfred recalls from carrying him in. Well, that simply won't do.
-
The next morning, as Alfred's walking through the living room to the kitchen after a shower, he catches the sound of someone taking a sharp breath of air, and then a set of horrible coughing with a few mangled and unintelligible words hacking their way out. So Alfred stops and looks over as the coughing finally ends, and watches as Arthur sits up. Arthur's eyes are wide as he looks around, and spots Alfred, and immediately opens his mouth just in time for Alfred to start talking.
“You're awake!” he exclaims. “How you feeling?”
“Who are you? Where am I?” Arthur asks immediately. “What do you want from me?”
Alfred holds up his hands, trying to keep a smile on his face. “I'm Alfred F. Jones, I'm a police officer in the city-”
Before Alfred can get much more out, he can see Arthur tense up. Cruel as it is, being homeless has its illegality. Not that Alfred has any intention of reporting anything. “You're safe here,” he assures. “I'm not telling anyone about your situation.”
“What do you know of my situation?”
“Not much,” Alfred admits. He puts his hands down but he keeps his distance. He's not known Arthur for long, but there's a way he holds himself that tells Alfred that if he wanted to, Arthur could probably find any kind of way out of … anything. (Not that his current health would permit it. Probably.) “Listen, you were the one laying out-cold in front of my house, okay? Don't you think you should be a little grateful?”
“Grateful to be on some strangers couch?!” Arthur stands quickly- “At least I would have awoken on something familiar out there! Oh...” but he quickly falls back to the couch holding his head.
“You mean a jail cell? Look.” Alfred sat down, slumping over a bit “You can stay here, safe, for a while to get back on your feet. Food, health, shelter, clothes; we can go get your ID and all, too. Or, once you're at least fed a little bit, you can walk out the door and either end up in jail or die. It's your choice.”
Arthur glares, but it's more soft and sad than threatening. This is clearly a big blow to his pride, or something.
-
Two days later, Arthur agrees to stay until everything is back in order.
-
Once he's able to move around without getting lightheaded, and once he's gotten substantial strength back, he helps out.
The first thing Alfred buys for Arthur are some clothes. Whatever Arthur's used to wearing on the street simply won't do. So while Arthur's busy in the shower, Alfred steals out to buy some jeans, slacks, some shirts, the whole nine yards. He's fairly certain they'll fit, but he gets some belts just in case. In the end, Arthur prefers the slacks and button-up shirts, but more than once Alfred catches him in jeans and a regular t-shirt. (Soon enough the belts aren't needed, and that's actually really cool.)
Arthur gets the den as his room. Alfred helps clear it out so they can clean and get some furniture in there. The sofa, already there, has a pull-out bed that, surprisingly, isn't half-bad. (“It's certainly more comfortable than what I'm used to.”) A small night-stand is set up with a lamp, and the bed gets some really soft sheets. Later that day, Alfred takes Arthur to the library to check out some books for him to pass the time.
While Alfred's at work, Arthur cleans like a mad-man. With the money Alfred leaves him, Arthur goes to buy almost 50 dollars worth of cleaning supplies, and when Alfred steps in, the fresh scent of lemon just tickles his nose. There's not a speck of dust anywhere, and the carpets and wood floors are colors Alfred just doesn't remember them being. Alfred certainly wasn't dirty, and he kept his house clean, but this.... This was a whole new level.
One of Arthur's hobbies is gardening, and it's not long before the weedy bushes out front actually give Alfred's house more curb appeal. It's not long before there are flowers adding some splashes of color, and the back yard turns from mostly dull grass and dirt to something far more inviting, and comfortable. A few weeks of watering, some rose bushes; even some patio furniture. It almost makes Alfred contemplate getting a dog.
Arthur tries cooking, but returning home that night.... Alfred assures Arthur that take-out and left-overs are just fine.
-
One evening several weeks later, after a rather uneventful shift, Alfred comes home, slips his shoes off, unloads himself of any extra equipment, and takes his uniform top off. He untucks the t-shirt underneath, and quickly stops by the laundry room to change into some pajama bottoms for comfort. “Arthur!” he calls, fixing the waist band. There's no answer, so Alfred steps around to Arthur's room. He's not there, and several more steps discovers he's not in the bathroom, or watching TV, or eating. It worries Alfred quite a bit. What if Arthur's decided to leave?! He could at least have warned Alfred ahead of time, or left a note, or something. It's not like Alfred's grown used to Arthur's presence, or anything....
There's only one other place he might be at this time, and that's in the back, so Alfred hurries and rushes to the sliding back door, and just as he's reached it, he can see Arthur sitting at the patio table, reading something with a smile on his face. He looks like he belongs there; he looks happy, and with the sky turning from pink to purple with the sun setting, he just-.
There's nowhere else Alfred ever wants Arthur to be. Alfred grins to himself, and just a few seconds later, right after Arthur turns a page in his book, Arthur looks up and smiles and waves to Alfred before returning to whatever world he was immersing himself in.
It's a bit awkwardly that Alfred turns back and goes to take a shower.
Actually, it's really super awkward.
-
What with things calming down and getting Arthur's identification information all in order, Alfred decides to have a movie night. Movie night ends up becoming Let's Ditch The Movie You're British Let's Watch Doctor Who night. Sadly, that later becomes, I Can't Believe You You Are A Police Officer And Can't Even Watch An Episode Of Doctor Who It's Only The Silence night. (Which is also known as Please Come Sleep With Me Tonight At Least Stay Until I Fall Asleep night.)
It's actually a bit of a relief when Alfred wakes up to find Arthur still there, and he blushes only when he realizes that Arthur's hand is on top of his. Alfred makes sure not to move, but it's not long after that Arthur starts waking up, and moves his hand to stretch his arm upwards. He finally comes to himself enough to still and look around as best as he can. Alfred finally snorts in amusement, and says, “Morning.”
“...Morning. Oh yes, that's right, you were too frightened to sleep alone, I remember.”
So much for the awkward wake-up, Alfred thinks. Just skip to morning humiliation.
“Yeah, well you also fell asleep before me! Which I told you not to do!”
Arthur rolls his eyes and sits up. “You didn't tell me that. You may have implied it, but you didn't-”
“I implied you not to!”
Arthur shakes his head. “It's a good thing you're a police officer and not an English teacher.”
Alfred sits up, then, and says after a moment, “There's an maybe-opening at the station. They're thinking of firing one of the receptionists. She's always late, and she does a pretty crappy job. I was wondering if you might want it.”
Immediately Arthur's eyes light up, and he nods vigorously. “Absolutely!” he says. “Anything!”
With the last two months behind them, with Alfred discovering new things about Arthur, each thing is a switch, and Alfred thinks that this last one shines Arthur at his best. There's no denying that Alfred may have fallen a little bit for him, and there's really no way he wants Arthur gone.
Arthur flings out of bed saying just the opposite though. “I can finally get some money, and, if you don't mind, might I stay until I have enough for a flat?”
“Duh,” Alfred answers. And he adds, muttering, “You don't have to ever move out,” but it's just as Arthur's finished talking to himself, and he's within hearing range.
Arthur slows down and turns to stare. “What was that?” he asks, but he really doesn't need it repeated, does he? There's a new pink in his cheeks that makes something grow warm inside Alfred, and whatever it is it makes something seize up. Alfred's been in some pretty rough spots, and in some dangerous situations, there's no doubt. But now, something so … mundane? is making him nervous.
“I-I uh.” Alfred tries really hard to think of something, but with each hesitating, “Uh,” or, “Um,” Alfred gives himself away. So he coughs and looks at the ceiling. “I just. You don't have to leave. Move out. You can always stay here. ...You know. With me.”
Not long after that Alfred's head hits the headboard, and hard. Arthur is half on top of him with a knee in the side, and hand pressed hard in Alfred's collar bone. The only thing coming out of Alfred's mouth is a steady stream of, “Ow, ow, ow, fuck, ow,” whereas with Arthur it it's closer to, “Oh, Lord, Alfred, I am so sorry!” as he scrambles off of Alfred and goes to grab a pack of ice.
Alfred, meanwhile, sits up holding the back of his head, biting back any tears that may have sprung up. (Because he is a police officer, and what kind of police officer cries, right?) So instead Alfred just tries to focus on something else instead of the pounding, burning pain. Not that it helps much, but Arthur's back with the ice and rushing over.
“Alfred, I am so, so sorry; I really am!” he keeps saying
Alfred tries really hard to laugh it off. “It's cool, just wondering why you'd jump-attack me. Did you hate the idea that much?”
Apparently that's the wrong assumption, because Arthur presses the ice pack a little too hard. “You idiot! I was happy! I was trying to-” Arthur hesitates, his face becoming a darker shade than before. “Oh, it doesn't matter. I'm just sorry for hurting you, all right? Now hush and get better!”
“Just like that?”
“Yes!”
Arthur looks away determinedly and is on the verge of pouting, which is kind of adorable, and Alfred just rolls his eyes before leaning forward to press a kiss to Arthur's cheek. His lips linger there, and he can feel the heat growing, and he can feel Arthur trying hard not grin, or smile. So finally, more assured than before, Alfred sits back and doesn't realize that the ice pack is missing.
“Was that what you were trying to do?” he asks.
Arthur is still trying his hardest not to smile, and starts playing frantically with the bottom hem of his shirt. “Of-of course not! What do you take me for? A pervert? I was making sure your reflexes were still in … in working order, which apparently they're not!” Arthur stands up quickly, tossing the ice on to the bed. “Now, I've got to go-”
He's maybe only two steps away before Alfred grabs at his sleeve and pulls him down. There's only a brief moment of scrabbling before Alfred's holding Arthur's face in place to kiss him. The position's a bit awkward, with Arthur laying half-on and half-off of Alfred, but it manages to work out, if Arthur kissing him back is supposed to mean anything. And he really, really hopes it does.
It's not long before they break, and both of their faces are glowing, with small smiles slowly growing on them.
“Did you want to stay?” Alfred asks. “Cuz I'd like that.”
“I.... I think I'd like that very much, as well.”
This time Arthur manages to (properly) kiss Alfred, and they stay like that for much, much longer.