Two Little Sweethearts- Sense
Title: Two Little Sweethearts
Pairing: USUK
Rating: K
Warning: None (really bad attempts to make something look good)
Summary: Alfred tries to wait for twelve years, but he's imperfect.
For day six of the Sweetheart's Week event at the usxuk community.
Arthur's ears were tuned into a soft humming sound that would signal an incoming e-mail. No matter what he was doing, he would stop to answer it. He'd touch the screen's monitor and tap on the blinking icon for the attachment on the mail. The sender was always the same and he always sent a video. He'd move the video out from the screen to hover in the air before him. Then, it would start to play.
"Hey sweetie!" A blond man with sky blue eyes hidden behind glasses would appear on the screen. He was always smiling. It was always the same. "How's the weather today? Weather here is good. Captain is only slightly worried about an electrical storm that might be passing by us, but I wouldn't worry about it. So, let's see… Um… I got to walk around outside today! That was fun! I know I said I did that last e-mail, but I do three e-mails every day and space them out to be once a day for you. Does that make sense? Well, anyway, I named a star after you. Tonight when I sleep, I'll say good night to it and think it was you, so listen hard for my voice, okay?"
He was so close, and so real. It was almost as if Arthur could touch him. Every time he did, though, the feed would interrupt, reminding him that this man was millions of miles away in space. And every reminder was another nail jabbing into his heart.
"Okay, adjusting for time difference… it's our anniversary today, right?"
Arthur smiled and closed his eyes. "Wrong."
"I think I'll go out and catch you a meteor. Would you like that?"
Arthur chuckled. "No, darling."
"Hm, I wonder how I'll get them to you. I can't mail it or hurl it back towards you. Well, I could try. In four years, if you see a shooting star, that's your present. Sorry I missed."
"Oh, Alfred," Arthur said fondly, even though Alfred would never hear him say it. How he wanted to touch the screen. "You're such an idiot. I'll be thirty-five by the time it gets here… How will I remember?"
Alfred couldn't reply. He never could.
Alfred had been gone for four years before Arthur finally heard from his husband. To him, it had only been a year. It took that long for mail to reach Earth. Now, Alfred sent mail daily, but he didn't know what had happened to Arthur during that time. Arthur never replied because it would take too long to hear any of Alfred's answers.
Arthur was four years older, and Alfred still looked as young as the day he left. Arthur didn't understand the astrophysics behind all of this, but he knew that where it was one year for Alfred, it was four for him. Out there, in space, the stars got to see the beauty of his husband, still fresh in his youth.
Every day, Arthur listened for the hum of that e-mail. His days revolved around it. Even though he could wait to open them later, he still wanted to hear them right away. Alfred would never know, but Arthur would, and that made all the difference.
It was as if Arthur was losing all of his other senses, focusing on just sight and sound to see and hear Alfred.
He hadn't felt the need or want to touch anyone. Why would he? He gave his heart to the stars long ago.
They were fifteen. Fifteen, stupid, young, and in love. They ran away together to find a better life. Alfred thought it had become too hard to live on Earth, so he looked to the skies. Arthur promised he would wait.
Alfred would be twenty-seven before he was assigned to the three-year mission (eight years for Earth time) that took him to a far corner of the solar system. Alfred promised he'd remember Arthur and everything they loved.
They enjoyed when it rained. Alfred would become cat-like, and curl up in Arthurs's lap. He'd silently demand his attention. He always had. Arthur never minded.
While the world rejected him, Alfred accepted every bit of this imperfect man.
Year Five was when Arthur received bad news.
"Sorry, sweetheart. I have to prolong my time here."
It was a year later that Arthur broke that promise. He had forgotten how to hear and see.
The e-mails still came every day, without fail, but Alfred never aged. He still smiled.
He didn't know what was happening at home.
Arthur finally sent him a reply. He would not see Alfred's response for four years.
There came that response in Year Ten. He wasn't smiling. He looked ready to cry.
"I don't… I don't understand… We made a promise… You said you love me and that you would always be with me. So… then why do you want to divorce? Why? Sweetie, I know I'm in space, but… I say good-night to you, I blow kisses to you, and I say hello to you every morning with an e-mail. You never talk to me. What made you stop trying?"
Alfred didn't know that Arthur's lover slept in his bed, wore his robe, and fucked Arthur in his house. He didn't know that Arthur stopped wearing his wedding band. He didn't know Arthur forgot so much.
In Year Eleven, Arthur was hit in the face. He had to tell his lover that he couldn't marry him. Alfred never signed the papers.
One morning, Arthur woke up to no e-mail. He cried and worried. And realized that he was still waiting. He sent off an e-mail to Alfred at once. His lover left.
"I'd rather wait to feel, than to never feel again," Arthur said.
Alfred would be home before the letter arrived for him.
In the final year, Arthur panicked. Alfred still hadn't sent him any e-mails. What if Alfred never came home? There hadn't been any news reports of anything happening to the space program, so Alfred should be physically safe.
Arthur continued to send e-mails in the hope Alfred would get them early. The man would be so much younger now.
They used to be only months apart, but now they were nine years.
What would Alfred say to seeing a forty-year old man he had forgotten about? Did he too forget the rain, preferring to hiding from it than to run in it or to listen to it or to see it? Did he forget Arthur's eyes or his smell; tea and fresh-cut grass? Did he forget how warmth felt?
Because if he didn't, and he remembered it all vividly, then he'd have to teach Arthur all o that again. It had all slipped away. There was nothing he sought out anymore. He was just a bitter, old man.
The day came for when Alfred was to arrive home. Arthur was given a pass into the receiving room where the other families were to wait for their loved ones returning home. Arthur was scared to go. They were loving families that had children, now twelve years older, and wives that were loyal. And then there was him.
But he went. He had made a promise.
And there was Alfred. It took him too long to walk down that runway. Twelve years ago, Arthur had watched him walk away, thinking he'd be so happy to see him on his return walk in. But he wasn't. He didn't dash into his arms with tears. He didn't scream his name or fall to the floor in happiness. Rather, he sagged where he stood feeling old and brittle.
Alfred was gloriously young. He was beautiful. And he was shocked to see Arthur there on the tarmac, waiting, and wearing his wedding band.
"Arthur…?"
"Hello, love…," Arthur said with his voice that had aged. Alfred hadn't seen him in four years. The last e-mail he had gotten was of bad news. He hadn't seen that weathered look seep into his eyes and pull down his body as regret and impatience transformed his body and mind.
"Why are you here?" Alfred asked tersely.
"You…you stopped e-mailing me."
"Yeah, because I was mad." Alfred crossed his arms. He was still painfully young. "I just stopped for a few days, that's all."
"That was years to me!" Arthur exclaimed. He grabbed for Alfred's arm, praying it wasn't a video; praying that it wouldn't lie to him and admit that Alfred wasn't here.
But his fingers met cloth. He pulled him close. He sobbed in his arms and fell to the ground in happiness as he called his name. He exploded in happiness to feel him again, to smell him, to find that he hadn't forgotten. It was only days to him. The regret and anger hadn't crept into his bones yet.
"Darling, I'm sorry!" Arthur repeated over and over until his throat was raw. He hugged Alfred around the neck and cried into his shoulder. "Please, oh please, forgive me."
"Shh," Alfred whispered after a while. He put his arms around Arthur. "Come on. Let's go home. You're making a scene."
It felt like another four years had been sucked from Arthur then. The drive home was too long and too quiet. He sniffled every so often as his crying had triggered his sinuses. There were no tissues in the car either. Somehow, though, he felt younger already.
The house was cramped again. Alfred brought all of his things out of storage. But he slept in a different bed. Arthur hadn't told him he had thrown out the old mattress with a new one. He also bought him a new robe. But Alfred didn't know. He could only assume what was tainted, not knowing that Arthur hadn't seen his lover in years.
And then, one day, the e-mails arrived. One by one, they flooded Alfred's inbox. The sender was always the same. He was a haggard looking old man that aged daily. He never smiled. He was always sad.
Alfred opened them all up at once. He was swallowed in the voices of Arthur.
"Darling, I kicked him out."
"Darling, he's gone."
"I got a new mattress."
"I bought you a new robe."
"I miss the rain."
"Darling, will you…remember our adolescence for me? I fear I've forgotten."
"Darling…"
Arthur stood in the doorway from the bedroom and watched. He saw Alfred crumble to his knees and cry, shout his name out of happiness, and give his forgiveness. They kissed and hugged and Arthur knew he had never forgotten.
He stored away all of the good things about himself in Alfred's heart. It was there, waiting to remind him that while he had made a few mistakes, he was still an imperfect man. And Alfred had never forgotten how much he truly loved him for it.
Hoshiko2's cents: Originally this was to be much sadder and longer, like Al never came back, or the mission was pushed back so much, by the time he came home, Arthur had passed away. But… I dunno, this kind of appeared.
Pairing: USUK
Rating: K
Warning: None (really bad attempts to make something look good)
Summary: Alfred tries to wait for twelve years, but he's imperfect.
For day six of the Sweetheart's Week event at the usxuk community.
Arthur's ears were tuned into a soft humming sound that would signal an incoming e-mail. No matter what he was doing, he would stop to answer it. He'd touch the screen's monitor and tap on the blinking icon for the attachment on the mail. The sender was always the same and he always sent a video. He'd move the video out from the screen to hover in the air before him. Then, it would start to play.
"Hey sweetie!" A blond man with sky blue eyes hidden behind glasses would appear on the screen. He was always smiling. It was always the same. "How's the weather today? Weather here is good. Captain is only slightly worried about an electrical storm that might be passing by us, but I wouldn't worry about it. So, let's see… Um… I got to walk around outside today! That was fun! I know I said I did that last e-mail, but I do three e-mails every day and space them out to be once a day for you. Does that make sense? Well, anyway, I named a star after you. Tonight when I sleep, I'll say good night to it and think it was you, so listen hard for my voice, okay?"
He was so close, and so real. It was almost as if Arthur could touch him. Every time he did, though, the feed would interrupt, reminding him that this man was millions of miles away in space. And every reminder was another nail jabbing into his heart.
"Okay, adjusting for time difference… it's our anniversary today, right?"
Arthur smiled and closed his eyes. "Wrong."
"I think I'll go out and catch you a meteor. Would you like that?"
Arthur chuckled. "No, darling."
"Hm, I wonder how I'll get them to you. I can't mail it or hurl it back towards you. Well, I could try. In four years, if you see a shooting star, that's your present. Sorry I missed."
"Oh, Alfred," Arthur said fondly, even though Alfred would never hear him say it. How he wanted to touch the screen. "You're such an idiot. I'll be thirty-five by the time it gets here… How will I remember?"
Alfred couldn't reply. He never could.
Alfred had been gone for four years before Arthur finally heard from his husband. To him, it had only been a year. It took that long for mail to reach Earth. Now, Alfred sent mail daily, but he didn't know what had happened to Arthur during that time. Arthur never replied because it would take too long to hear any of Alfred's answers.
Arthur was four years older, and Alfred still looked as young as the day he left. Arthur didn't understand the astrophysics behind all of this, but he knew that where it was one year for Alfred, it was four for him. Out there, in space, the stars got to see the beauty of his husband, still fresh in his youth.
Every day, Arthur listened for the hum of that e-mail. His days revolved around it. Even though he could wait to open them later, he still wanted to hear them right away. Alfred would never know, but Arthur would, and that made all the difference.
It was as if Arthur was losing all of his other senses, focusing on just sight and sound to see and hear Alfred.
He hadn't felt the need or want to touch anyone. Why would he? He gave his heart to the stars long ago.
They were fifteen. Fifteen, stupid, young, and in love. They ran away together to find a better life. Alfred thought it had become too hard to live on Earth, so he looked to the skies. Arthur promised he would wait.
Alfred would be twenty-seven before he was assigned to the three-year mission (eight years for Earth time) that took him to a far corner of the solar system. Alfred promised he'd remember Arthur and everything they loved.
They enjoyed when it rained. Alfred would become cat-like, and curl up in Arthurs's lap. He'd silently demand his attention. He always had. Arthur never minded.
While the world rejected him, Alfred accepted every bit of this imperfect man.
Year Five was when Arthur received bad news.
"Sorry, sweetheart. I have to prolong my time here."
It was a year later that Arthur broke that promise. He had forgotten how to hear and see.
The e-mails still came every day, without fail, but Alfred never aged. He still smiled.
He didn't know what was happening at home.
Arthur finally sent him a reply. He would not see Alfred's response for four years.
There came that response in Year Ten. He wasn't smiling. He looked ready to cry.
"I don't… I don't understand… We made a promise… You said you love me and that you would always be with me. So… then why do you want to divorce? Why? Sweetie, I know I'm in space, but… I say good-night to you, I blow kisses to you, and I say hello to you every morning with an e-mail. You never talk to me. What made you stop trying?"
Alfred didn't know that Arthur's lover slept in his bed, wore his robe, and fucked Arthur in his house. He didn't know that Arthur stopped wearing his wedding band. He didn't know Arthur forgot so much.
In Year Eleven, Arthur was hit in the face. He had to tell his lover that he couldn't marry him. Alfred never signed the papers.
One morning, Arthur woke up to no e-mail. He cried and worried. And realized that he was still waiting. He sent off an e-mail to Alfred at once. His lover left.
"I'd rather wait to feel, than to never feel again," Arthur said.
Alfred would be home before the letter arrived for him.
In the final year, Arthur panicked. Alfred still hadn't sent him any e-mails. What if Alfred never came home? There hadn't been any news reports of anything happening to the space program, so Alfred should be physically safe.
Arthur continued to send e-mails in the hope Alfred would get them early. The man would be so much younger now.
They used to be only months apart, but now they were nine years.
What would Alfred say to seeing a forty-year old man he had forgotten about? Did he too forget the rain, preferring to hiding from it than to run in it or to listen to it or to see it? Did he forget Arthur's eyes or his smell; tea and fresh-cut grass? Did he forget how warmth felt?
Because if he didn't, and he remembered it all vividly, then he'd have to teach Arthur all o that again. It had all slipped away. There was nothing he sought out anymore. He was just a bitter, old man.
The day came for when Alfred was to arrive home. Arthur was given a pass into the receiving room where the other families were to wait for their loved ones returning home. Arthur was scared to go. They were loving families that had children, now twelve years older, and wives that were loyal. And then there was him.
But he went. He had made a promise.
And there was Alfred. It took him too long to walk down that runway. Twelve years ago, Arthur had watched him walk away, thinking he'd be so happy to see him on his return walk in. But he wasn't. He didn't dash into his arms with tears. He didn't scream his name or fall to the floor in happiness. Rather, he sagged where he stood feeling old and brittle.
Alfred was gloriously young. He was beautiful. And he was shocked to see Arthur there on the tarmac, waiting, and wearing his wedding band.
"Arthur…?"
"Hello, love…," Arthur said with his voice that had aged. Alfred hadn't seen him in four years. The last e-mail he had gotten was of bad news. He hadn't seen that weathered look seep into his eyes and pull down his body as regret and impatience transformed his body and mind.
"Why are you here?" Alfred asked tersely.
"You…you stopped e-mailing me."
"Yeah, because I was mad." Alfred crossed his arms. He was still painfully young. "I just stopped for a few days, that's all."
"That was years to me!" Arthur exclaimed. He grabbed for Alfred's arm, praying it wasn't a video; praying that it wouldn't lie to him and admit that Alfred wasn't here.
But his fingers met cloth. He pulled him close. He sobbed in his arms and fell to the ground in happiness as he called his name. He exploded in happiness to feel him again, to smell him, to find that he hadn't forgotten. It was only days to him. The regret and anger hadn't crept into his bones yet.
"Darling, I'm sorry!" Arthur repeated over and over until his throat was raw. He hugged Alfred around the neck and cried into his shoulder. "Please, oh please, forgive me."
"Shh," Alfred whispered after a while. He put his arms around Arthur. "Come on. Let's go home. You're making a scene."
It felt like another four years had been sucked from Arthur then. The drive home was too long and too quiet. He sniffled every so often as his crying had triggered his sinuses. There were no tissues in the car either. Somehow, though, he felt younger already.
The house was cramped again. Alfred brought all of his things out of storage. But he slept in a different bed. Arthur hadn't told him he had thrown out the old mattress with a new one. He also bought him a new robe. But Alfred didn't know. He could only assume what was tainted, not knowing that Arthur hadn't seen his lover in years.
And then, one day, the e-mails arrived. One by one, they flooded Alfred's inbox. The sender was always the same. He was a haggard looking old man that aged daily. He never smiled. He was always sad.
Alfred opened them all up at once. He was swallowed in the voices of Arthur.
"Darling, I kicked him out."
"Darling, he's gone."
"I got a new mattress."
"I bought you a new robe."
"I miss the rain."
"Darling, will you…remember our adolescence for me? I fear I've forgotten."
"Darling…"
Arthur stood in the doorway from the bedroom and watched. He saw Alfred crumble to his knees and cry, shout his name out of happiness, and give his forgiveness. They kissed and hugged and Arthur knew he had never forgotten.
He stored away all of the good things about himself in Alfred's heart. It was there, waiting to remind him that while he had made a few mistakes, he was still an imperfect man. And Alfred had never forgotten how much he truly loved him for it.
Hoshiko2's cents: Originally this was to be much sadder and longer, like Al never came back, or the mission was pushed back so much, by the time he came home, Arthur had passed away. But… I dunno, this kind of appeared.