Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"You cannot be serious, Crumpet."

Arthur glared up at the tree in which his cat was hidden.

The wretched beast escaped his carefully enclosed balcony while Arthur had been vacuuming his apartment. He only realized it about half an hour ago, and once he stepped outside of the building to begin the search, he had quickly discovered the cat had climbed up in one of the trees out front. 

He tried to lure Crumpet out of the tree with some treats and wetfood, of course. But the cat refused to move an inch. At first Arthur was convinced the cat was intent to ruin his free Sunday, but by now he knew that the brown-furred British Shorthair simply didn't know how to climb back down to the ground. 

And since the branch Crumpet was perched on was far too high to reach with an average ladder, animal control had suggested he called the local fire department. 

The lady answering his call sounded very amused when Arthur explained why he needed their help, his cat yowling angrily in the background like some hellish banshee the entire time. And as if that wasn't embarrassment enough, the yowling managed to attract quite some attention from concerned neighbors too. 

("Aw, poor Crumpet. He must be so frightened."

"He's just being dramatic.")

He sighed and pocketed his phone once more. Refusing to let the mongrel out of his sight, in case Crumpet decided to go 'flying squirrel' on him, Arthur sat down on the stone parapet separating the sidewalk from a front yard. 

Crumpet kept a close, glaring eye on him as well, tail anxiously swishing. 

"I do hope he will leave that nest of finches alone." The elderly woman living below him mused. 

Arthur resisted a scoff. Firstly; he didn't think any bird was nesting at this time of year. Secondly; he thought the safety of his own cat was a bit more important. And thirdly; Crumpet had the hunting instinct of a jellyfish, the pampered little tramp. 

"I'm sure they'll be all right." He replied instead, bracing himself for nonsensical small-talk. 

About fifteen minutes later an obnoxiously red fire truck calmly rounded the corner. Arthur saw the people living across from him curiously open their drapes, and lamented the fact that this was going to be the talk of the block for the following week. 

"I hope you're pleased with yourself." Arthur muttered with one last glance to his cat, ignoring the questioning sound his neighbor made. 

He stood up and dusted himself off before heading over to the now parked truck. 

Two men jumped out of the truck, both dressed in their typical firemen gear save for their turnout jackets. One went around to climb on the back of the truck to prepare the aerial ladder, and the other approached him.

Arthur nearly tripped over his own two feet when he got a good look at the guy. 

Good god, those over glorified television series weren't exaggerating. If this was the sort of man they put on those tacky calendars, well, Arthur might just have to buy one. 

The fireman approaching him wore a bright smile on his young and attractive face. He was probably in his early to mid-twenties. The glasses perched on his nose made him look a little dorky, but they also framed his face spectacularly, adding a bit of a mischievous touch. 

The man came to a halt in front of him and of course he was also taller than him, because why not? Arthur blinked and unconsciously let his eyes drift over the man's lean physique, lingering at the broad set of shoulders that he assumed some people would pay to see shirtless (him included). 

"Mr. Kirkland, yeah?" He asked, and Arthur helplessly met the man's clear, sky blue eyes. 

And then he was acutely aware that he most definitely looked like an absolute mess. It was his free day after all, and he had spent it cleaning his apartment. Which meant he was wearing an oversized hoodie with a pair of sweatpants that was riddled with bleach and paint stains. 

Well, he had hardly expected to run into God's gift to bloody mankind now, did he? 

Apparently he'd been quiet for a second too long, because the man cleared his throat, bright smile turning a little tentative.

"Alfred F. Jones, at your service. I heard your cat got itself in a bit of a pickle?"

Crumpet took that very moment to release another ear-splitting yowl and the firefighter looked up with surprise, allowing Arthur the time he needed to force his mind back out of the gutter. 

"Yes." He quickly replied, trying not to flutter his eyelashes like a hormonal teenager with a crush on their gym teacher. He was a respectable adult and he would act like one, damn it. 

The firefighter  - Alfred - raised a hand to shield his vision from the sun as he peered up the tree at the cat. Arthur only just managed to not hum approvingly at the way the man's shirt stretched around his bicep. Sweet heavens, those arms - 

"Not often we get to rescue a cat from a tree." Alfred then said conversationally. "Usually animal control beats us to it."

"I did call them first, but they directed me to you lot, considering the height of the tree."

"Makes sense." Alfred nodded with a confident grin that made Arthur feel a little weak in the knees. "Don't worry, I'll have her back in your arms in no time!"

"Him." Arthur cleared his throat when Alfred tilted his head innocently. "It's a him. You should wear gloves, he's a menace." 

"Will do, don't worry!" The firefighter saluted him with a grin and returned to the truck, climbing onto it agilely.

Now that the fireman was no longer in front of him, Arthur found it easier to get back to the matter at hand. 

Knowing that he couldn't run back inside and change, he decided to simply own his appearance. Crossing his arms, he watched Alfred ascend the aerial ladder raised from the truck. 

Anxiety bubbled low in his stomach then; Crumpet managed to get quite high, and he dearly hoped the cat wasn't stupid enough to jump away and plummet down to his untimely death. 

While Crumpet could be a right snobbish arsehole from time to time, he loved the cat dearly. He'd gotten him when he was just a little kitten after all, back when he still lived in England. 

Arthur winced when Crumpet angrily shrieked and swiped at Alfred, who had reached the cat and was now carefully trying to extract him. But then Alfred cheered enthusiastically and Arthur squinted to see that he had managed to grab the cat. 

It was kind of impressive that Alfred managed to slowly and steadily descend the stairs again, with the cat held securely in only one arm. After all, Crumpet weighed a whopping 15 pounds and he wasn't being cooperative at all. Arthur usually ended up with either a sore shoulder or a bloody arm whenever he had to pick the cat up against his will.

Arthur released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding when Alfred jumped off the truck and headed back over him. 

"Aren't you a pretty, big bastard- ouch!" He heard Alfred mutter indignantly as Crumpet hissed. "Okay, okay, calm down."

Arthur resisted the urge to smirk when Alfred came to a halt in front of him, holding out the cat with a slight frown. Crumpet uncharacteristically leaped into Arthur's waiting arms, pressing his furry body close while keeping a watchful eye on the firefighter that just rescued him.

"Feisty, ain't he?" Alfred huffed as he rubbed at the scratch Crumpet managed to leave on the bare skin above his reasonably thick and long gloves. 

Overcome with the relief of having his cat back in his arms, and endeared with how Crumpet exaggeratedly rubbed against him, he felt the need to come to his cat's defense.

"Well, you did manhandle him out of an exceptionally high tree. One can't blame him for being frightened."

Alfred raised his eyebrows in surprise then, the twitch of his lips betraying his amusement, and Arthur bit his cheeks and willed himself not to blush. 

"Haha, you're adorable when you frown like that." The fireman then said and the immediate shift of his facial expression betrayed that he had not meant to say it out loud. 

But that didn't matter, because Arthur had heard and thus the damage had been done. "I beg your pardon?"

"Uh, it's just, your eyebrows, they're kinda fuzzy and - wait, I mean - uh," The fireman stumbled over his words, and Arthur only felt himself getting more and more annoyed. 

Why was it always the stupidly hot men that were also, well, stupid? 

Arthur schooled his face into the unimpressed and slightly disappointed look he would give his students when they were being difficult. 

"Quite." He interrupted with a bit of a sneer. "Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Jones."

Alfred's lips twisted into a wry and slightly embarrassed smile that did a funny thing to his stomach, but Arthur refused to be stunned by the man's hotness again.

"All right then. Give us a call should Mister Grumpy here find himself up a tree again." 

Alfred reached out towards Crumpet and Arthur couldn't help but smirk when the cat hissed and swiped at the intruding hand, causing Alfred to hastily lean back again. 

"That will not be necessary. Good day, then." 

It almost seemed as if Alfred hesitated, but then the man chuckled and gave him a two-fingered salute, before turning around and heading back to the firetruck. 

It gave Arthur the perfect opportunity to secretly ogle the man's behind as he effortlessly climbed back into the truck. When the firefighter turned to swing the door closed, their eyes met once more, and Arthur felt his face flush at being caught staring. 

Instead of waiting to see how the man would react, he quickly turned around and reentered his apartment building. 

The door swung shut with a dull sound and he glared down at the cat in his arms.

"This is all your fault."

Crumpet purred obnoxiously and jumped out of his arms, daintily climbing up the one flight of stairs towards his still open apartment door.

He followed the cat with a sigh, entering his own apartment and shutting the door once he saw the large cat stretching and rolling around on the couch. He locked the balcony door then too, knowing he'd have to fix the nets but wanting a cup of tea first. 

In the kitchen he was quickly joined by Crumpet, who loudly begged for some treats and rubbed against his legs as if nothing out of the ordinary happened that day. 

And while Arthur felt the cat should actually be reprimanded for his little adventure, he couldn't help but crouch down and run his fingers through the cat's plush fur. 

"That was scary, wasn't it?" He mumbled affectionately, allowing Crumpet to butt his face into his palm. "But at least you were saved by bloody Superman himself."

He gave the cat some treats and when he inevitably had to pick up the vacuum cleaner again, Crumpet smartly hid on top of the wardrobe this time. 

It took Arthur a while to figure out what he wanted to do in life. 

He had a rather uneventful youth, followed by a rebellious teen phase. When he graduated, he realized he had never properly sat down to think about his future. 

For some reason, even though Arthur came from a family that was well-off and even though he was nowhere near depressed, he had always thought he would somehow never make it this far. 

He almost resigned to changing his part-time job at the library to a full-time job, when his older brothers started having children. As Arthur was the only nearby relative with a lot of time to spare, he was often manipulated into babysitting them.

Unexpectedly, it turned out that he loved it. Taking care of his niblings, teaching them how to walk, talk and read: everything came to him quite naturally. 

By the time they became the irritating and rebellious toddlers Arthur inspired them to be, he'd enrolled in a college and pursued a career as an elementary school teacher. 

He graduated, and in a moment of joy, decided to come out to his family as well. Unfortunately one fight led to another, and he moved to the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. 

Moving to the United States of America had been a bold and spontaneous move. But thanks to his basic grasp of several European languages, he quickly managed to snatch up a job as a kindergarten teacher at an international primary school. 

And here he was.

He loved his job, but it could be tiring from time to time. The children in his class were usually 4, 5 and sometimes 6 years old, and some of them didn't have a good grasp on the English language yet. Which meant that there were moments he couldn't properly communicate with some of the kids, leading to outbursts and meltdowns. 

But the children usually adored him, and he usually adored them. 

He would never admit to having favorites of course, even if he had a soft spot for the occasional kid. This year, he'd grown particularly fond of the Williams twins. 

Emily and Marguerite (or Meg), with their blonde hair and blue eyes, could've been plucked straight out of a Hallmark movie. Fortunately it wasn't hard to tell them apart, especially personality wise.

Emily was excitable, a little brash and a bit of a daredevil who seemed to always have a bruise or band aid on her knee. Meg was quiet, well behaved and just shy enough to be adorable instead of awkward. She was also a little dependent on the stuffed bear she carried everywhere she went, but they were working on it. 

He watched with a small smile as Emily called his name and skipped over to him, her sister staying behind at her table. 

"Yes, Emily?"

"Daddy can't pick us up today, but uncle Al will. But he asked us to tell you he could be a little late." Emily said with a wide and toothy grin. 

Ah, the illustrious 'Uncle Al'. Emily was particularly enamored with this uncle of hers, who was apparently somewhat of a hero, though Arthur doubted the stories Emily spun held much truth in them. 

Their father had of course already mentioned their uncle picking them up when he dropped the girls off this morning, and Arthur couldn't help but admit he was a little curious to meet the man who inspired Emily's 'heroic' attempts to stand up to bullies thrice her size. 

"That'll be fine, dear. You two can help clean up the classroom, then."

"Awww, boo!" She pouted but went back to her table regardless, sitting on her knees and swaying back and forth as she continued the drawing she was working on. 

Arthur got up and did a round to check on every kid. It was nearly time for recess and to keep them from getting distracted, he had given them the task of drawing their favorite animal. Most of them drew cats and dogs, though Lovino seemed to be drawing a tomato. 

Meg was poking out her tongue and eyeing the stuffed bear next to her critically, trying to recreate his image on the paper. 

"That's a very good portrait of Kumajirou, Meg." He praised, smiling when Meg quickly hid the drawing with her arms.

"It's not done yet Arthur! Don't look."

"All right, don't mind me." He apologized, quickly heading over to admire Feliciano's collage of cats, though they looked more like little circles with triangles on top of them.

At the end of the day, he allowed the twins to play instead of cleaning up. While Meg honestly tried to help him at first, Emily was distracted every other minute and inevitably dragged her sister down with her, so Arthur figured he would be quicker on his own after all. 

They were playing quietly when he heard the hallway doors open and shut. Knowing that meant the girls' uncle was here to pick them up, he straightened from collecting any wayward papers and pencils. 

"Arrr, where are my little pirates?" A voice drawled loudly and the girls squealed with delight when a man jumped out from behind the corner, entering the room. 

Arthur froze instantly when he saw the insanely hot firefighter that rescued his cat a few days earlier. Even though he was dressed casually now (with a bomber jacket he wore exceptionally well), he still recognized him immediately. 

The man's - Alfred, if Arthur remembered correctly - eyes briefly swept from his nieces to him and then did a double take as surprised recognition dawned on his face. 

Then Emily barreled into her uncle with all the force of an overly excited five-year old, and her uncle, who was caught off guard, nearly toppled over. Alfred wheezed and stumbled back, only just managing to keep upright. 

Emily immediately started talking a mile a minute, successfully drawing her uncle's attention, and Arthur grabbed the brief moment of respite to hastily recollect himself. 

Suddenly Emily's wild tales about her uncle saving damsels from distress and babies from burning buildings made a lot more sense. 

"Emmy, we got all afternoon to talk about how you sucker punched that Italian's sorry ass." Alfred said with a snort, making Emily giggle. 

Arthur frowned with slight disapproval: while it was true that Lovino was hot-tempered and a little ill-mannered, he'd never resorted to physical bullying, unlike Emily who punched him right in the stomach after Lovino called her 'a stupid baby'. 

"Go help Meggie collect her stuff, yeah?"

Oh dear. If Alfred meant to distract Emily, that meant...

"So you're the infamous Arthur that keeps stealing my thunder."

Arthur turned to face Alfred properly, appraising him with a carefully crafted neutral expression. "Your thunder, Mr. Jones?"

Alfred grinned wryly, apparently pleased that Arthur remembered who he was as well. Arthur felt his cheeks were burning slightly, and he willed his expression to remain neutral. 

"Yeah. Ever since they started the year here, it's been Arthur this, Arthur that, and so on."

Arthur tilted his head towards the twins, secretly endeared that they appeared to like him that much. "I'm afraid they give me too much credit."

"Ha! Well, you've set a high bar." Alfred said with a wink. "How is Grumpy, anyway?"

"His name is Crumpet." Arthur said testily, and aware of it. 

"Grumpy, crumpy." Alfred said indifferently. "Meanest cat I've ever encountered."

Arthur frowned and refused to dignify that with an answer, recalling how Crumpet had been adorably attached to his lap the entire day after. 

Emily crashed back into Alfred's legs then, but this time Alfred hardly moved an inch. "Hey nugget, remember I told you about that cat I saved?"

Oh, of course. The brat. 

"Yeah! You said it was cute and fat!"

Arthur released a long-suffering sigh, but it went ignored. 

"Didya know it was actually Arthur's cat?"

Emily gasped with wide eyes, looking back at Arthur for confirmation. Meg quietly appeared behind him, tugging at the back of his shirt. Thanks to years of experience, Arthur managed not to startle.

"You have a cat, Arthur? Can you bring it to class one day?" Meg asked softly, while her sister loudly agreed. 

Arthur resisted the urge to glare at Alfred, and instead smiled down at the girls. "I'm afraid Crumpet is a bit of a homebody, but I'll show a video of him tomorrow in class." 

"Aw, now I wanna see the video too." Alfred said with a bit of a whine. 

Arthur ignored him. "Go get your coats girls, I'm sure your uncle is anxious to leave."

"Nah, not really."

Arthur did glare at him then. The girls thankfully listened to him and Alfred grinned at him playfully. 

"I, uh, I know I was being kinda rude the other day, so how about we start over? I'll go first," He held out his hand. "Hello! I'm Alfred Jones, Emily's and Meg's uncle."

Well, it wasn't quite an apology, but it was as good as any. Arthur rolled his eyes but allowed his lips to form a small smile. 

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Jones. I've heard a lot about you." He said as he shook his hand, and Alfred's eyes narrowed with mock suspicion.

"Good things only, I hope."

"Kids these days are brutally honest."

"Yikes." Alfred said with a huff of laughter, smiling cheekily. Like the weekend before, Arthur felt his stomach do a funny little twirl. 

Then he realized their hands were still locked, and he hastily retracted his own, shifting the papers and pens he was holding from one hand to the other. "But I suppose trouble runs in the family."

Alfred laughed earnestly then, eyes crinkling at the corners with delight. "I see why they like you. Anyway, thanks for keeping them after class for a little while."

"It wasn't a problem. Have a good day now, Mr. Jones." Arthur said, hoping that Alfred would understand that the words and him turning back to his desk was meant to be dismissive.

"Call me Alfred, please, I'm already having a quarterlife crisis as it is." Alfred quickly countered, and Arthur could hear he hadn't moved from his spot yet. 

Walking around to stand behind his desk, Arthur looked back up at him, raising his eyebrows in lieu of asking if Alfred needed anything else from him. The man looked a little thoughtful, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that reminded Arthur terribly of one Emily Williams when she wanted to cause trouble. 

"I thought it was the baggy clothes at first..." Alfred said then, and Arthur frowned, looking down at his attire. He wasn't wearing anything baggy at all. "Nope. It's still adorable when you frown."

He felt his face flush when he realized what Alfred was referring to, and was reminded why he had been annoyed with the man before. 

"Please refrain from flirting with me in the presence of my students." Arthur snapped back with a bit of a sneer.

Alfred looked over his shoulder. Emily and Meg were loudly chatting in the hallway, not paying them the slightest bit of attention. "They seem pretty occupied to me."

"Goodbye, Mr. Jones." 

Alfred laughed and walked backwards, smiling cheekily at him right up until he had to turn around and collect the girls. All three of them said their goodbyes once more and then Alfred chased them through the hallway, the girls' giggles echoing until the hallway doors shut behind them.

Arthur groaned and sat down in his chair. He slumped forward on the desk and finally allowed himself to be properly embarrassed about the fact that the ridiculously attractive firefighter he may or may not have fantasized about once or twice, was also the relative of two of the children in his class. 

He desperately hoped Mr. Williams would not be needing his brother to pick them up anytime soon, again. 

Chapter Text

Everyone had a vice, and Arthur's vice was probably alcohol.

He wasn't an alcoholic, but he liked to unwind with a pint of beer every now and then. The unfortunate snag was that he had an incredibly low tolerance. 

And when Arthur's low tolerance kicked in, he ended up on the fun side of tipsy, and he got chatty (maybe even clingy).   

Something his drinking buddy - who was coincidentally also his co-worker and best friend - fortunately never minded. 

"'s not fair." Arthur slurred as he slumped against Francis' shoulder. His friend sighed and ordered them two more drinks, petting his hand amicably. 

"I'd understand if he were a dad, but an uncle? Who cares, chèrie."

"'s not proper, 's wha is." 

Francis couldn't possibly relate to his problems anyway. Somehow he had enough energy to maintain a proper social and dating life outside of his job, and his suave looks and smooth tongue helped him pull enough tail to keep himself more than satisfied. 

In fact, said 'smooth tongue' was how they met, too. Francis taught fourth graders at the same school Arthur worked at, and upon meeting him, had immediately propositioned him. Arthur, of course, had immediately smacked him over the head with the 'Learn to Count with Elmo' book he'd been holding.

They've been friends ever since. 

"It's a shame your classes end before mine." Francis teased. "If you ever tire of him, send him over to my part of the building. I'll give him a fire to put out."

"You're no gettin' him either." 

Arthur's lost count of how many times the man in question, Alfred, had ended up in his classroom to pick up his nieces.

It had become somewhat of a common occurrence - at least once a week, and recently even twice a week, Mr. Williams would announce that his brother would pick his daughters up.

Arthur had been suspicious at first. The girls' father worked from home as a freelancer and had thus always been able to pick up the girls himself. Arthur had asked if he had switched careers, but Mr. Williams simply explained that his brother wanted to spend more time with the girls. 

Only said brother was hardly ever there for the actual pick-up, since he was usually late. The girls didn't mind, and though Arthur kept up appearances, neither did he. Sure, he'd been a bit annoyed at first, but in the end he'd been helpless against Alfred's charm.

By now he had an incredibly aggravating, juvenile crush on Alfred F. Jones, firefighter extraordinaire and 'best uncle ever'. 

But in his defense, it wasn't fair how he checked all of Arthur's boxes. Apart from looking like that, he was also funny, compassionate, intelligent and obviously a family man. And he managed to be all of that without coming across as obnoxious. 

It drove him up the wall, because Arthur had his two nieces in his class, which meant that the man was off-limits.

Well, for now, at least, as Francis kindly reminded him. 

"Just keep it in your pants until next school year and then you'll have a whole class full of children unrelated to him. Problem solved."

"Ugh." 

Once Francis was also properly sloshed, they decided to head back home like the semi-responsible adults they are. 

Francis kept giggling and snorting at absolutely everything, and Arthur desperately tried to keep a straight face during the bus ride back to Francis' apartment. He's incredibly aware that the old lady glaring at them from the front of the bus was the grandmother of one of his students: but then again, what was she even doing here at night? 

Immediately after they stumble into Francis' apartment, the drunk munchies hit, and they came up with the wonderful idea of cooking up a sugary midnight snack. 

Arthur smacked his lips and wobbled a bit on his feet as he scavenged Francis' cupboards from anything immediately edible, and eventually ended up with a carton of eggs and a waffle mix. 

"I wanna make waffles."  

Francis started giggling again, grabbing the items from his hands and replacing them with a bottle of vodka and soda.

"I don't want my kitchen to burn down because you get distracted. I'll make crepes. Sit your pert little derrière down."

Arthur scowled but moved back anyway - he didn't know how to make crepes and the idea sounded good enough. He nabbed two glasses from the counter and moved to the living room, slouching down on the couch and getting to work. 

It wasn't long until Francis joined him and they got into a heated debate on the pros and cons of animated, musical movies for children (and the obsessions they tended to induce) when Francis inevitably got distracted. 

Which was quite ironic, really. 

The smoke alarm went off and the sudden, ear-splitting noise startled Arthur so suddenly that he knocked over the soda bottle, its contents spilling over the coffee-table and onto the ground. 

Francis' first reaction was to whine at the mess and complain about how sticky it was going to be, and then all of a sudden, they both realized that the alarm was caused by the crepes on the stove, that were now on fire.

Francis' next reaction was to rush over and attempt to douse the fire by grabbing the bottle of vodka and pouring it on top of it, resulting into even bigger flames. 

They spent the next five minutes or so panicking and giggling somewhat hysterically, trying and succeeding to put out the fire with the appropriate equipment before it became an actual problem. 

After this chaos, they spent another five minutes hacking their lungs out while hanging out of the window, alternating coughs with uncontrollable laughter every time they looked at each other or at the mess behind them.

And because of all that, they completely forgot to turn off the alarm - which was one of those fancier alarms, programmed to send an automatic distress signal to the town's fire department after ringing for five minutes straight.

About fifteen minutes after the whole debacle started (and about ten minutes since it'd been solved), they were startled by loud banging on the front door.

Arthur was standing on his tiptoes on top of a chair, in an effort to reach the wretched, headache-inducing machine and turn it off. Francis, who'd been offering unhelpful commentary while still hanging out of the window, hurried over to the front door, no doubt to try and calm an aggravated neighbor down. 

"Bloody hell, why t'fuck is the ceiling so bloody high?" Arthur cursed as his fingertips managed to brush the button on the machine.

"Maybe you're just short." Someone said and Arthur glared down to cuss his friend out - only to realize the words were said by someone else entirely. 

He squinted at the fireman. Something was off, but he definitely knew this man. 

"Alfred?" He gawked and lost his momentum, swinging back and forth on the chair perilously. 

Alfred was at his side in a second, steadying him with a firm hand on his waist and gently tugging him off the chair, and Arthur lamented the fact that apparently the universe had it out for him. 

"Let's get you down before you hurt yourself, yeah?"

"Uh." Arthur said, because his brains were still muddled from the copious amount of beer and vodka he'd tossed back earlier that night. "Whot - what brings you 'ere?"

Alfred laughed then, his eyes crinkling attractively. Arthur realized what was off: he wasn't wearing glasses. But why wasn't he wearing glasses? How odd. 

"Where's yer glasses?" He said immediately, reaching out to touch Alfred's face with his fingers. He miscalculated the distance though and almost poked Alfred's eye straight out, were it not for the fireman's quick reflexes. "Oops."

"I'm wearing lenses. Sounds like you had a fun night, Artie."

"'s Arthur." He mumbled lowly, furrowing his eyebrows and trying to look unimpressed.

Alfred grinned and turned from him then, addressing a second fireman that Arthur hadn't seen yet. 

"Mathias, can you check the stove? Lemme shut this annoying thing down." 

Alfred grabbed the chair Arthur had used before and quickly turned it around, using it to propel himself upwards and expertly shut the alarm off. 

Right, he was also tall. Another box that was checked from Arthur's list of usually high standards. 

Arthur knew he was caught staring longingly at the fireman's torso when Francis snorted loudly, and he turned to send a withering glare at his friend, who was leaning in the doorway casually. 

The sudden silence was deafening for a second, but then the other firefighter, who already moved back from the stove again, made a questioning noise. 

"Alcohol and baking don't generally go well together."

"Au contraire, I use wine in most my dishes." Francis said haughtily and Arthur fought hard to keep his unprompted giggle inside himself. He succeeded - but only barely. 

"Right." The firefighter said, looking exasperated. "Anyway, I've cut your gas supply for now, in case you get another brilliant idea."

"Tsk," Francis tutted, waving his hand dismissively. 

"What he means, is thank you." Arthur piped up, also because he kind of wanted Alfred's attention on him again. 

Alfred smiled at him with that wry and soft expression that Arthur may or may not have once dreamed about. 

"No problem. But we gotta stop meeting like this, Artie."

He spared a moment to glare at Francis when his eyes slid over Alfred with unabashed interest. "You bother me at work all the time, it's only fair I do the same."

Alfred chuckled - as if he knew all about how he definitely did not bother Arthur at work. 

"Aw, all right. You don't have to commit arson to see me though, you can just drop by the station." He teased, winking.

Arthur pursed his lips, trying to keep his (tipsy) composure intact.

That was another thing: he was never sure whether or not Alfred was flirting. Sometimes it was glaringly obvious, but in a way that best mates could also flirt with each other. Hell, he didn't even know if Alfred swung for the same team - or if he was even single. 

"Wait, is he the cat guy?" The other firefighter exclaimed then, a mischievous grin on his face. "The one that teaches the twins?"

It could be because he was a little drunk, but Arthur swore that Alfred seemed to startle, as if he had forgotten about his colleague's presence in the room. 

Alfred turned around and laughed, albeit a bit awkwardly. Arthur scoffed: at least now he knew that he had a reputation as 'the cat guy' at the fire station, one that Alfred and his colleague's apparently joked about. 

"All riiiight, since things are fine here, we should go, buddy." Alfred announced then, walking over to the man and shoving him towards the front door. "Other calls to take, people to save, y'know."

The other firefighter - Mathias - laughed and allowed himself to be manhandled through the hallway. "Remember fellas, don't drink and bake!"

Francis hummed noncommittally, watching them leave with barely-concealed interest. Arthur sighed and sat back down on the chair, dragging the still intact bottle of vodka closer. 

"Your pining makes so much sense now, mon dieu." Francis mused as he sat down opposite from Arthur, holding out his own glass for a refill of what was now going to be pure vodka. But then again; if Arthur could wipe this particular event from his memory, he'd be grateful. 

"I told you it wasn't fair."

Francis shrugged, throwing back his vodka and standing up to grab a take-out menu from his fridge, obviously still craving food after all of this.

Then he eyed Arthur and smirked knowingly.

"But he definitely wants to fuck you, rosbif."

"Oh, get bit."

"My brother will pick the girls up after school today." Matthew Williams said after his daughters ran into the classroom.

Of course. 

Again: the universe seemed to have it out for him.

Alfred hardly ever picked the girls up on a Monday, but of course he had to do so the Monday after their inconvenient reunion at Francis' nearly burnt-down kitchen. 

Arthur managed to smile pleasantly, nodding. "No problem at all."

He waved the last of the parents off and then shut the door, wading through the small sea of preschoolers intent on making the room a moving minefield. 

"So," Arthur started, after he got every kid to sit down and unpack. "Did anyone do anything fun this weekend?"

Dozens of hands shot into the air almost immediately, little bodies wiggling in their chairs in the hopes of being picked first. He patiently listened to tons of tales about playdates, walks in the park, visits to the zoo and costumed reenactments of Disney movies, pleased that at least every kid seemed to have had a fun weekend. 

"What about you, Arthur?" One of the kids asked sweetly, and Arthur smiled as he leant back against his desk.

"I did nothing as exciting as you guys. I stayed home, read a great book, watched a boring movie."

"Huh?" Emily piped up then, without waiting her turn. "But uncle Al said he saw you at work!"

That bastard. 

Arthur didn't allow his smile to falter, however. It was relatively easy to divert this conversation anyway. "That's right! Could you explain to everyone else what your uncle does for a living?"

Emily bounced up and down excitedly and immediately began spinning a tale about her uncle, the heroic firefighter, Meg nodding along enthusiastically to everything she was saying. 

He allowed the other kids to ask her questions about it for a good five minutes while he collected some stacks of paper, and then clapped his hands in order to regain everyone's attention. 

"All right, it seems I've got a fun assignment for you." He said as he moved around, handing out the paper. "We all have someone we look up to, right? Maybe your mum, dad, uncle or maybe even a friend. Let's draw that someone, and make sure that you show what makes them amazing. If you want, you can give it to them later, as a gift."

As expected, the class erupted into excited chatter, as the kids discussed who to draw with their group. 

Arthur didn't mind - he always used the early hours in the morning for the kids to unwind, so that they got the excitement of being here and seeing their friends again out of their system. 

"Arthur?" Feliciano called, and Arthur crouched down next to him. "Can I draw my grandpa? He's the best!"

"Absolutely, Feli. What makes him the best?"

"He's really tall and strong and can lift me and Lovi up at the same time! And we always sing together! And he likes pasta!"

Sounded like the Vargas twins were little copies of their grandfather, then. Arthur chuckled and nodded at the paper. "That does sound like he's the best. Let me know if you need any help, okay?"

"Okay!"

"Arthur!" Another kid called. "How do I write 'beautiful'?"

It was rather sunny out, so Arthur agreed when the girls asked if they could wait for their uncle on the playground outside. 

He didn't have to wait for long, fortunately. Moments after he sat down on one of the swings, he heard a truck pull up on the school's parking lot.

Soon after, Alfred got out of it and walked over to the playground. Instead of walking around to the gates, he effortlessly jumped the fence separating the playground from the parking lot. Arthur quickly averted his eyes, lest he be caught ogling the slightly flashy move. 

Since the girls were still playing a rather vivid game of pretending to be astronauts on one of the playground climbers, they didn't notice their uncle's arrival. Thus Alfred headed straight for Arthur, who'd been nonchalantly rocking himself back and forth on the swing. 

"Hi teach! Kicking it with the kids, huh? Want me to push ya?" Alfred grinned as he approached, and Arthur ignored the little jump in his stomach as the man leaned towards and nearly over him, and twisted a hand around one of the chains holding up Arthur's swing seat. 

Instead he scowled and swatted Alfred's hand away, causing Alfred to laugh and lean back with his hands raised. 

"Push me and experience the consequences, Mr. Jones."

"Aw come on! I told you to call me Alfred."

Arthur called all parents and guardians by their last names, so he wasn't about to make an exception for Alfred. Especially because casually calling him by his first name would feel like him acknowledging something, and he refused to do so. 

"So you have, Mr. Jones." 

"You called me Alfred last weekend."

Arthur felt his face flush, but glared at the taller man to compensate. "I was inebriated, that hardly counts."

"Uh huh. You'll warm up to me sooner or later, Artie."

Alfred grinned at him playfully and leaned against the oblique pole supporting the swing. Arthur unwillingly let his eyes travel down the slope of the man's body, before redirecting his gaze back to the girls who were still trapped in their play fantasy. 

"Perhaps later." He mumbled, and Alfred moved to sit on the swing next to him. "Did you have to rat me out to your nieces, though?"

Alfred looked puzzled for a second, before he seemed to understand. "Ohhh, you mean last weekend. Haha, don't worry. I didn't tell them you were drunk, wouldn't want you to lose your popularity."

Well, that was one crisis averted. 

"Awfully refreshing to hear from a competitor."

"Hey! We're on two totally different levels, they love us equally but differently."

Arthur stuck up his nose a little, adopting what he hoped was a somewhat arrogant expression. "You're only saying that because you know they like me better."

Alfred snorted with laughter, using his feet to swing himself toward Arthur and bumping into his swing seat, causing Arthur to sway sideways. 

Arthur sighed and used his own feet to prevent him from crashing back into Alfred, sending him a pretend-glare. 

"I don't like a playground bully, Mr. Jones."

"Oh, I'll show you playground bully." He shifted a bit, but this time Arthur saw it coming, and he quickly maneuvered himself back before Alfred could bump into him again, causing Alfred to sway back faster than expected.

Alfred gave him the 'watching-you' gesture with two fingers, and he smirked tauntingly in return, but the juvenile activities ended there. 

Arthur looked back at the girls then, but they were still very much caught up in their astronaut play. 

"So, uh," Alfred started, and Arthur recognized it as an attempt to make small-talk, so he turned his body back towards Alfred. "That guy from this weekend, was he your, uh..."

He said it so awkwardly that Arthur's fears of Alfred being a straight man were only amplified. He sighed and rolled his eyes.

"A friend. He teaches the fourth graders here."

"Huh, look at you teachers, sticking together like pack animals."

"Hardly, there's a long-standing rivalry between the town's primary school and high school teachers."

"No way." Alfred's eyes widened excitedly. "Kinda like the firefighters and the police?" 

"No, because whereas ours is harmless, yours sounds like a potential danger to the public."

"Bah," Alfred waved him off. "No one's died yet."

"Comforting." He couldn't help but shake his head with a smile when Alfred smirked and shrugged, in lieu of saying there was nothing to be done about it.

Two loud squeals distracted them then, and they both turned to watch as Emily and Meg stopped what they were doing to rush over, apparently having noticed their uncle's presence at last.

Alfred quickly jumped out of his swing seat, crouching down in time to catch Emily and throw her into the air. He caught her again without so much as a sweat, and Arthur's treacherous eyes wandered to the biceps hidden by Alfred's bomber jacket for a moment. Alfred put Emily down, crouching down again to envelop Meg into a hug as well, squeezing until she squealed that it was too tight. 

"Hello my little monsters. Did you behave well today? I'll know when you're lying because I'm buddies with your teacher, y'know."

Arthur scoffed but when both the girls looked at him with barely concealed childlike fear, he decided to play along. "They were perfectly delightful... this time." 

He then winked at the girls and zipped his mouth shut with two fingers, smirking when Alfred eyed him with exaggerated suspicion. 

"Are we still going to the park, uncle Al? Can Hero come?"

"Sure, but we gotta pick him up from the station first."

Arthur was going to have to assume that Hero was a dog, since he did not want to imagine a pour soul being named Hero by its parents.That, and Arthur could absolutely see Alfred as a person that owned a dog. 

"You have a dog?" He asked just to be sure, once the girls cheered and ran towards the gates to collect their backpacks. "How stereotypical."

Alfred laughed and followed him as Arthur stood up to walk back to the school, pausing at the gates where the girls were waiting. "Yeah, but at least it's not a dalmatian."

"Small wonders." He conceded, smiling down when the girls looked up at them with confused interest. "Have fun at the park, girls, Mr. Jones."

A chorus of thanks was echoed back to him and he watched as Alfred shooed the girls towards the parking lot, opening his car from a distance with the keys in his hand. "Catch ya later, Artie. Don't go starting any fires while I'm off-duty."

"I'll do my best. And it's Arthur." Arthur said flatly, rolling his eyes when Alfred threw him a smirk over his shoulder as he left. 

Reminding himself that it would be weird to watch them leave, Arthur turned back around to reenter the school. He didn't bother to psycho-analyze the butterflies excitedly wreaking havoc inside of him, once he turned to close the doors and caught a glimpse of Alfred grinning widely at his nieces whilst he was strapping them in their seats.

Chapter Text

"All right kids, you know what to do." Arthur called as the kids filtered out of the school, before noticing he missed two.

He looked back inside as he held the door open, and spotted the Vargas twins still stumbling about in the hallway. Feliciano was excitedly babbling to Lovino in Italian, but it caused them to lag behind. When they saw Arthur looking at them, they quickly rushed outside, nearly tripping over each other. 

They rushed towards the end of the line of kids, who'd been taught to form a line in the alphabetical order of their last names. 

After counting all their heads, Arthur walked up to the first one. Once he spotted the girl's mom he tapped her shoulder, allowing her to run towards the gates and to her mom. 

By the time he reached little Toris, he noticed the Williams twins having trouble staying in line. A quick glance told him why, and the why surprised him: it seemed both their dad and their uncle had shown up for pick up, something that had never happened before. 

He tapped Toris' shoulder and allowed him to go to his dad, sympathizing with the fact Emily and Meg would be the last to get sent off. 

Matthew Williams was on the phone with someone, angled towards the girls so he could keep an eye on them just in case. Alfred leaned forward over the fence, exchanging funny faces with his nieces. 

When Arthur reached the Vargas twins, Alfred stuck out his tongue and went cross-eyed. He met Arthur's unimpressed face almost immediately after, but instead of looking embarrassed, Alfred just sent him a wry grin and a playful wink.

Arthur sighed and tapped Feliciano's and Lovino's shoulder when he saw their grandfather. "Be good, boys."

"See you tomorrow Arthur!"

Once Lovino let go of Emily's hand, the girls finally couldn't contain their excitement anymore. Emily rushed over to the fence, squealing when Alfred bent over it to tickle her, and Meg tugged at his sleeve. 

"Look Arthur, look! Uncle Al is here too!"

"So he is. Are you all going to do something fun?"

"Not that I know..." Meg pondered, and Arthur walked her over to the fence, grimacing when Alfred hoisted Emily over it and spotting all the ways this could end up in a physical injury.

But it didn't, of course. That didn't deter him from picking up Meg to safely hand her over to Alfred, however, and he ignored how aware he was of their hands brushing as he handed him his niece. 

"Unannounced and on time - I must admit I am rather surprised, Mr. Jones."

"Awww, uncle Al hates it when you call him that." Emily scolded innocently, and Arthur smirked when Alfred nodded along with a solemn expression. "He says it makes him feel old."

"Compared to you two, he is rather old, is he not?"

"Wow, rude! It's barely been a minute Artie, damn."

"Language."

Alfred grinned. "Put a chip in the swear jar for me."

Arthur shook his head with amusement - some of the kids had picked up some swear words from older kids, so he had introduced a swear jar in his classroom. Every time a kid said a bad word (and objectively speaking: their bad words were hardly bad words, but it was important to start young) they had to deposit a chip in it. Arthur gave the kids five round, plastic chips every Monday, and whoever still had five on Friday, would get a small treat. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Matthew finishing up his phone call as he approached them, petting Meg on her head when she skipped over to him.

"Hello Arthur." He greeted with a smile, as polite as ever. "How are you? Were they any trouble?"

"I'm fine, thank you. And they were darlings, as usual."

"Damn right! My nieces are the best." Arthur shot him a look, and Alfred at least had the decency to look a little scolded. "I know, another chip. You drive a hard bargain, dude."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "We best get going if we want to be on time for your surprise, girls. See you tomorrow, Arthur. Girls, say bye."

The girls were far too distracted by this so called surprise to be bothered by something as trivial as saying goodbye, and Arthur smiled when Matthew looked a little apologetic before following his daughters to the car. Alfred loitered though, slouching back against the fence. 

"Wanna know what the surprise is?" He asked tauntingly then, and Arthur sighed, deciding he might as well indulge him.

"I want nothing more than to know."

Alfred laughed, eyes squinting attractively for a second. "I knew it. Allow me to fulfill your biggest dream yet: we're taking them to the pool."

"That sounds like it's going to be chaos. Have fun, A-" He halted, horrified at himself when he realized what he was going to say. 

Alfred froze too, cheery expression turning into a mischievous one really quickly. Arthur cleared his throat and looked away, pretending to fix his collar. 

"Awww come on Artie, I want nothing more than to be on a first name basis." He imitated Arthur's accent as he said the last part, and Arthur scowled, reminding himself to never ever utter Alfred's first name from now on. 

"Have fun, Mr. Jones." He said, dragging the words out on purpose. 

Alfred sighed dramatically, pushing himself off the fence and regarding him with mock-sadness. 

"Oh, wait." He said, suddenly remembering something, and Alfred watched with curiosity as Arthur extracted a piece of paper from his pocket. "Here, you should probably have this."

Alfred opened it, and upon seeing the digits his eyes widened. He looked back up at Arthur with confusion. "Uh, this means you want me to take you swimming one day, too?"

Arthur frowned. What did swimming have to do with - oh. Oh, shit, Arthur immediately realized why Alfred's cheeks were tinted red and why he appeared confused. In hindsight, this did seem like something else entirely. 

"The number to my work phone." He hastily explained, feeling his own face flush with embarrassment. "I give it to all the parents. In case of an emergency or when you're late for pick-up."

"Oh. Yeah. That makes sense." Alfred said just as hastily, folding the paper again. "That, eh, that's helpful, yeah. Thanks."

What followed was a rather awkward few seconds of silence, and Arthur desperately wanted to return inside and forget this ever happened. But just as Alfred wanted to - hopefully - say goodbye, the girls yelled from inside the car for him to hurry.

Alfred laughed at them, waving in lieu of responding, and seemed to relax again judging by the returning easy grin on his face.

"I'll text it so you'll have my digits too, haha. In case of an emergency... or if you want to go swimming." He added with another playful wink, and Arthur wished he'd been put together enough to do more than scowl and blush as he gritted out a goodbye and stomped back towards the school. 

The last few days before spring break were always hectic, no matter the year you taught. 

But whereas Francis was complaining about his students no longer paying attention and half-assing their homework, Arthur's students were more energetic than ever. 

Of course there were also the few students who panicked at the mere idea of not seeing their teacher and friends for a whole week - which almost seemed more akin to a whole year, if you listened to their sniffles and whines.

Fortunately, he managed to distract all of them with fun assignments so far. They made their own Easter decorations, baked cookies, painted the windows, did a science experiment with filtering dirty water into clean water and he had them prepare and play out a little talent show.

The big finale of the week was on Friday, which he only told them about on Friday morning. Or rather; he showed them, enjoying their cheers and surprised faces when the firetruck pulled up on the school's parking lot. 

It was a yearly event for the kindergartners, first graders and second graders. The fire brigade would visit the school for some fire safety workshops, a presentation and a round of Q&A. Theoretically speaking, Arthur knew about this event. During the years he worked here, he'd always attended it with his class - except for last year, when he'd been sick. 

Which coincidentally had been Alfred's first year. Arthur wondered if the man would've caught his attention then too, if they met then instead of when he had to rescue Arthur's cat. It was just one of many things he'd be distracted by today, but in the end, most of those many things revolved around one Alfred F. Jones anyway. 

Since it was sunny and dry out, it was decided to act out the first part of the visit outside on the parking lot. It caused some teachers of older classes to come out with their students as well, encouraging them to silently admire the fire truck and listen to the presentation, but to not meddle with the younger students. 

Arthur's students was behaving surprisingly well, even though Emily and Meg were absolutely vibrating with the fact that their uncle was among the present firefighters. But apart from the occasional loud bragging and squealing, they didn't disrupt the presentation all too much. 

It helped that Alfred didn't especially acknowledge them all that much, even though it was painfully clear that he wanted to. 

"I'll bet Alfred will end up with the kindergartners." Francis said as he sidled up to him, elbowing him in the side gently.

Arthur scowled and pushed him off, knowing that this was exactly why Francis had gone out with his class too - and not because he wanted to offer his students the experience. Francis chuckled knowingly, but Arthur ignored him, keeping a wary eye on his students instead. There were some first graders that were, albeit innocently, teasing Feliciano. The small Italian was gloriously oblivious, but Lovino was getting worked up about it. 

He glanced at the teacher responsible for the first graders, but Laura was engaged with another student and thus not paying attention. Right then Lovino decided he'd had enough, pushing one of the first graders. Naturally they pushed him back, and within a second the little Italian was bawling. Arthur sighed and started to move, hoping to solve the scuffle as quietly as possible. 

But before he could arrive and separate the kids, the first graders scuffled back towards Laura (who'd caught their eye with a scolding frown). Lovino had gone quiet too, and Arthur realized it was because one of the firefighters had gone over to him. The dark-skinned and brown haired man grinned widely at the kid as he crouched down. Lovino, who was slightly intimidated because he was more shy than he let on, quieted down to sniffles. 

Arthur couldn't hear what he was saying from this distance, but he waited to see what would happen anyway. Eventually the fireman smiled brightly and ruffled Lovino's hair, laughing when the kid swatted at his hands angrily. The crisis seemed solved - Arthur'd have to thank the man later. 

"Do you guys also do CPR?" One of Arthur's fellow kindergarten teachers suddenly asked. 

"Yes ma'am, part of the job description includes giving first aid and CPR to injured or ill people." It was Alfred who answered, charming smile in place.

"Care to do a demonstration?" She then asked, and while most of the children stayed curiously silent, a few of the older children groaned. 

One other teacher wolf-whistled - Arthur could understand why. 

"I know someone who will volunteer!" Francis called loudly while nudging Arthur with his hip. Arthur nearly gave in to the temptation of childishly kicking his friend, and scoffed when Alfred's eyes singled them out, a smirk appearing on the fireman's face. 

Fortunately they were literally saved by the bell then, signalling it was time for recess. Like Francis predicted, Alfred quickly found him and tapped his shoulder to announce that: "I got the kindergartners, Artie. See you in a few!"

Arthur's class was the last of the kindergarten classes that got the workshop and presentation - which was simultaneously a blessing and a curse. 

A blessing; because the kids would be exhausted after the presentation, but also a curse, because they were too excitable to do any actual assignments beforehand. 

He resolved to just have them do their own thing, as long as it involved a book, pencils and papers, or puzzles. At least that way he could pretend they were actually doing something meaningful. 

After lunch Alfred had shown up, kicking off his presentation with introductions, jokes and fist bumps. Every kid obediently sat at their tables when he asked them to. Arthur had rearranged the tables beforehand, so that they formed somewhat of an arch around the firefighter, and he was glad to see all of the kids agreed with the temporary new seating plan.

"When we get a call, I gotta get into my gear really fast. That's why I wear shoes I can easily get off, and why my boots have zippers on them." Alfred explained, undoing his shoes. "Then I switch into my protective gear. You can see my bunker pants are already around the boots, so all I gotta do is step in my boots and pull the pants up. See how quick I did that?"

A chorus of 'yes!' sounded throughout the room and Alfred grinned, continuing his explanation on his protective gear and how certain parts helped protect him. 

Arthur listened with half an ear. He shifted in his seat for a moment, careful not to jostle Meg too much. She'd gotten a bit frustrated that she wasn't allowed to cling to her uncle, and had walked over to him with a wobbly lip and watery eyes, so he allowed her to climb onto his own lap instead. 

Emily was almost sitting on top of her table, eyes wide as if she didn't already know everything Alfred was telling her. She made a point of bragging about it too, occasionally interrupting Alfred when another kid asked him a question. Arthur gave up reprimanding her after the first five times. 

"So, do you guys think this is everything?" Alfred asked for the third time after he had fully geared up. This time he was actually done and did not have another random piece of gear hidden in his stash on the table nearby, and the children cheered.

"Now, with all this gear on, it's kinda hard to talk with other firefighters." Alfred continued after he took his helmet back off. "That's why we all gotta wear a PASS. Does anyone know that that mean?"

Predictably, all kids remained quiet, some of them shooting inquisitive looks his way. But Arthur simply shrugged - it wasn't as if he knew what it meant.

"It's a personal alert safety system and we use it in case a firefighter gets into trouble! It also goes off when I stay still for too long, watch this."

The children all held their breaths as Alfred froze on the spot, and Arthur rolled his eyes when Alfred grinned his way. Then something started beeping, growing louder the longer Alfred remained frozen. By the time one of the kids grabbed onto his ears, Alfred quickly wiggled his hips, causing some kids to laugh and the noise to abruptly stop.

"Super loud, right?"

Time flew by surprisingly quick. He showed the kids some more tips and tricks, let them try on pieces of his gear and reenacted some harmless scenarios with them. He tried to persuade Arthur to be his assistant once or twice, but Arthur refused politely, even when the kids joined in on ganging up on him.

By the time the bell rang again, it was already time for dismissal. 

Meg shot from his lap and approached Alfred once more, who finally caved and crouched down to cuddle her and her sister, depositing purposefully loud and wet kisses on their cheeks. 

Arthur smiled and turned to the rest of the children, getting them to clean up the toys, books and pencils they still had out. Then he went to the door to open it: because it was the last day before a break, he would not do the dismissal outside, but parents would come inside to fetch their kids. 

It always took longer than on a normal school day - there were always some leftover concerns from parents, or questions, or meetings that they wanted to arrange for after the spring break. Then there were the children who remembered it was spring break and got both simultaneously excited and sad, and he had to spend some time comforting these kids, reassuring them he would be here when they returned after the break. 

It always managed to break his heart just a tiny little bit. After all, he was so used to seeing their faces nearly every day. And even though he could use some time off himself, he would miss his little students. 

By the time the children and their parents filtered out, Alfred and his nieces were the only ones still there. Alfred had taken off his gear again while Arthur had been busy with parents, and had taken it upon himself (and his nieces) to put the formerly rearranged tables back into their usual groups. 

"Look at you girls, so helpful! Thank you very much, dears." 

The twins positively glowed at the praise, puffing out their chests a little bit.

"Hey! I told them to do that." Alfred complained, and Arthur shot him an amused look. 

"You'd steal the thunder from your own nieces?"

Alfred huffed and rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. "Aw man, when you say it like that, I sound like an asshole."

"Language!" The twins chanted simultaneously and Alfred's expression soured. 

"That's my... third chip?"

"Fourth, there was also that text when you were late." Arthur said, having kept count without really being aware of it. "I must confess you're the loser of this week, Mr. Jones. Even Lovino had two chips left."

"Hey, but technically the school day is already over, so I don't think this one counts."

Meg quickly ran to her table, extracting one of her five remaining chips from its drawer. "You can have one of mine, Uncle Al. I still have enough."

Alfred dramatically grabbed his heart. "Oh, you precious little angel. I love you to death. Emily, you're no longer my favorite niece."

"Hey, not fair!"

Arthur sighed when Emily barreled into her uncle to initiate a play-fight while Meg cheered from the sidelines, and walked over to his desk to tidy a little while they got it out of their system.

"Okay, okay, I yield." Alfred said with a wheeze after Emily managed to headbutt him straight in the stomach. "How about you two go get your stuff, all right? Antonio will even let you drive shotgun - "

Arthur shot him a glare and Alfred quickly lowered his voice. 

"...with us, so you gotta hurry up."

The girls giggled and secretively glanced Arthur's way, as if he hadn't heard what was just said, but listened and went back to their tables to collect their things. 

"You didn't hear that, did you? Otherwise I might have to kill you." Alfred said nonchalantly as he walked up to Arthur's desk, putting his hands down on the wood and leaning forward in an attempt of appearing intimidating. 

Arthur raised a hand to his lips and zipped them closed, offering him the invisible key, which he solemnly took and pocketed. 

"So, moment of truth, how awesome was I?" Arthur fought a smile and shrugged, pointing at his closed mouth. "All right, keep your secrets."

"You were great." Arthur admitted, allowing his smile then. "I haven't seen them that well behaved in a while, you completely mesmerized them."

"Aw, now you're just flattering me, you limey backscratcher."

"You know Mr. Jones, I do not think I'll miss your cheekiness the next few days." Arthur said prickly, crossing his arms. 

Alfred chuckled and, suddenly, turned around to check on his nieces. They were still babbling to each other at their table, Emily reenacting some heroic poses while undoubtedly spinning some adventurous tale to her gullible sister.

"Right, about that." He mumbled, suddenly looking a little bashful. For some unknown reason, Arthur felt his pulse quicken a little. "I kinda got used to seeing you at least once a week, so I'd hate to break tradition. Perhaps we can grab a bite sometime next week?"

Wait. 

Arthur felt his jaw slacken - he realized he was supposed to say something, but was momentarily at a loss for words. Was Alfred asking him out? On a date?

Or was this another one of their misunderstandings - was he just asking him to go out for a friendly chat? 

He supposed the mature thing to do, was to simply ask for clarification.

"Are... you asking me out?" Arthur asked, aware that he was probably getting red-faced.

Alfred straightened and, despite still appearing bashful, smiled at him boyishly. "Yeah. If that's all right."

If that's - oh, he was definitely asking him out on a date, then.

And Arthur should definitely say it was not all right. It wasn't professional, and it simply couldn't happen, not as long as he had Meg and Emily in his class. He should say that, yes, but instead realized he was slowly nodding and - 

"Why do you wanna go out with Arthur?" Emily asked then, nose scrunched up as if she thought the idea was icky.

Alfred didn't bat an eye, apparently having foreseen this. And the idea of Alfred having thought about how his nieces might react to him asking Arthur out before, and then still asking him out, was a little exciting, if Arthur had to be honest. 

"Because I wanna be his friend."

"I thought you were already friends." Emily countered, looking suspicious.

"Right, but I wanna be his best friend."

"But Arthur, Francis told me he was your best friend!" Meg objected, looking a little scandalized.

"Meg, you can have more than one best friend." Arthur replied absentmindedly, repeating what he so often told little kindergartners when they were fighting over who was whose best friend. 

"Yeah, and the kind of best friend I wanna be, is different from the best friend he already has. Hopefully." 

Arthur definitely understood what he meant, but the girls didn't, both of them pulling faces when they tried to figure out what he said. Alfred raised his dazzling smile back towards Arthur, and Arthur realized he still hadn't given a proper answer yet.

But he was distracted when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone unfamiliar lean into his doorway.

"Al, we're going to be late. You coming? Girls, you get shotgun today!"

The girls cheered and ran over to the man, whom was one of the other firefighters. Arthur frowned disapprovingly again at the shotgun-mention, but he supposed he had less of a say over them than their actual uncle. 

"Oh, hey! I'm Antonio Carriedo." The man said then, smiling at him suavely - and if Alfred hadn't been right in front of him, Arthur might've been distracted by the man's good looks. But then again, he did look a little like one of Arthur's exes from college. 

He was also the same firefighter who calmed Lovino down earlier, Arthur realized.

"Arthur Kirkland." He said politely, not missing the way Alfred's expression turned a little irritated for a second - presumably at being interrupted. "I wanted to thank you, for consoling Lovino earlier today. He drew you a picture."

Lovino, despite being easily provoked and easy to rile up, was also a lot like his brother, even if he didn't seem to want to be. So it hadn't surprised Arthur when the little boy approached him earlier, shoving the drawing into his hands and announcing that Arthur had to make sure that the 'jerk-bastard' ("Those are two chips, Lovino, and you were doing so well this week.") received it. 

"No way! That feisty kid, right?" Antonio exclaimed cheerfully, quickly walking inside when Arthur extracted the drawing from the pile on his desk and held it out. He took it gently, as if it were now a prized possession. "Oh man, this is so cute. No problem, he was adorable. You're so lucky to teach all these cute kids!"

"Some days." Arthur quipped, allowing a small smile to slip when Antonio laughed. 

"I'll be right there, Antonio." Alfred interrupted then, and Antonio lowered the drawing to give Alfred a look. 

"All right, no se preocupe... Nice to meet you, Arthur." Antonio took the girls by their hands and then they were gone - leaving Arthur alone with Alfred. 

And, shit, he still had to give his answer. Alfred looked a little less sure of himself again, smiling at Arthur sheepishly, and Arthur knew he was taking way too long. 

"Uh," Arthur began, before clearing his throat and willing himself to not look dumbstruck. "Dinner sounds lovely."

No! No, he should've said no! Damn it, what was wrong with him? 

Alfred's face lit up (and Arthur knew exactly what was wrong with him) with relieved joy, nodding to himself. "All right, great! I'd give you my number but, uh, you have it already."

"Oh, right." Arthur agreed, wanting to fidget with something. "I'll - I'll shoot you a text from my personal cell, then."

"Right. Keep the work phone uncluttered, smart."

"Yes, quite."

Bollocks, this was awkward. Arthur hadn't been this awkward about a bloody date since high school. 

"All right, I should get going before they leave without me." Alfred then said, and Arthur wondered if he felt the awkwardness too, because if he did, his didn't betray so. No, he looked as if Arthur had just given him a present - and well, that was rather adorable. "I'll, er, talk to you later then. Text me?"

"I will." Arthur promised, even though the devil on his shoulder (or perhaps it was the angel, who knew anymore) was telling him to shut this down before it properly started. 

Alfred shot him another bright and somewhat flirty grin, throwing him his signature two-fingered salute before leaving his classroom and disappearing around the corner.

Arthur heaved a sigh and sat down in his chair, slouching forward to rest his head on his desk. 

What was he going to do now? 

Chapter Text

Arthur had not wanted to text Alfred, at first.

Thoughts about how unprofessional it would be, and how awkward it could make things, swirled around in his head like a mantra. Eventually he got frustrated, and he decided that breaking out a bottle of wine and getting smashed would be the perfect way to both kick off the spring break and silence his conflicting thoughts. Two birds, one stone.

However, halfway through the bottle, the tipsy voice in his head managed to convince him it would be a fantastic idea to text Alfred.

After all, Arthur was a little lonely. He hadn’t had a proper date in months, hadn’t had any proper sex in even a longer while, and Alfred seemed a very willing candidate. A handsome, willing candidate, who for whatever reason seemed to be actually interested in him, so why on Earth was Arthur being so hard on himself?

Come morning he’d been immensely relieved to discover that he’d never actually made it further than that first text. In it, he simply announced who the text was from, obviously not having had the creativity to add anything else. Alfred had apparently texted him back about an hour later, but by then Arthur had already reached the bottom of the bottle, and he hadn’t checked his phone anymore.

With a bit of a hangover, and with a confusing mix of both regret and excitement, Arthur had read Alfred’s answering text and decided it would only be polite to reply.

One text turned into two, two texts turned into three, and sometime after lunch they’d agreed on a day, time and location for their date later that week.

Arthur had sort of expected the texting to end then. After all, what could they possibly want to talk about until then? Alfred apparently thought otherwise – and he seemed to have a lot to talk about, anyway.

He’d never been one for nonsensical small talk, and had always been annoyed by those people who felt the need to share everything they did, read, saw or ate. Yet every time his phone vibrated, his heart treacherously skipped a beat. Suddenly, Arthur took his phone with him everywhere he went, even within his own house.

The novelty would wear off after a day or two, he told himself.

He was wrong, of course.

“Stop looking at me, you judgmental wench.” Arthur grumbled when Crumpet stopped grooming himself to suddenly stare at Arthur, who’d been smiling like an idiot at his phone. “Go back to producing another hairball for me to clean up later.”

For all he knew the cat most likely did not understand him, Crumpet looked mightily offended, and with a growl the cat jumped from his perch on his overpriced scratching post, disappearing into the hallway to God knows where.

The phone is his hand vibrated again and Arthur decided to pause the show he was supposed to be watching, knowing that as long as Alfred was off-duty and awake, he was probably not going to focus on it anyway.

“Why are there so many shades of green?” Arthur complained to no one in particular, huffing when Francis cheerfully told him to shut up.

They’d been at the damn hardware store for at least an hour now, and Arthur was getting impatient. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t picky about his own interior, but Francis was icing the cake, constantly changing his mind, comparing colors and reevaluating his choices.

“Perhaps I should go for a soft yellow color.”

“If you don’t pick a color right now, I’m going to shove one of these paint cans down your throat, and you can use the color you’ll shit out.”

A few feet from them, an elderly woman gasped with outrage, and Arthur only just managed not to glare at her in response. He chose to ignore her instead – after all, why should he apologize to her? She shouldn’t have listened to their conversation in the first place.

“So you’re saying I should go for a brown or beige shade?” Francis mused, completely missing Arthur’s point, and Arthur made a noise of contempt. He obediently followed his friend towards the section with aforementioned colors, knowing he wasn’t going to win this battle anyway.

“What with your curtains and furniture, I’d go for beige.” He eventually proposed, hoping to nudge his friend into some direction.

“You’re probably right.” Francis agreed, turning towards the different kinds of beige. Arthur hadn’t even known there were that many shades of one bloody color.

His salvation announced itself with the vibration of his phone in his pocket. Arthur took a step back to let someone else pass by him, and quickly snatched the device from his coat, unlocking it to read Alfred’s latest text.

Alfred Jones: btw what hogwarts house are u in

Arthur snorted under his breath; sometimes, after they concluded whatever small conversation they had over text, Alfred would ask him random questions, most likely in an attempt to get another conversation started or to keep them talking. Even though he knew the intentions behind Alfred’s random questions, Arthur indulged him every time, despite Alfred’s atrocious spelling and grammar. He was sure the firefighter did it on purpose just to taunt him, and Arthur refused to be baited.

Arthur Kirkland: What house do you think I belong to?

Alfred Jones: hmmmm since ur a teacher im inclined to say ravenclaw, but thats probably not it

Alfred Jones: and ur too feisty to be a hufflepuff

Alfred Jones: its slytherin, isnt it?

It was, but he wasn’t about to give in that easily.

Arthur Kirkland: Why not Gryffindor?

Alfred Jones: i hope not, cos im in gryffindor

Arthur Kirkland: Of course you are. Also: your point being?

Alfred Jones: everyone knows gryffindors and slytherins make the hottest couples lol  

Arthur smiled stupidly down at the screen, both flattered and fondly exasperated. Ever since he agreed on going on a date with Alfred, the firefighter had been relentless in his casual flirting and teasing, doing both surprisingly well over text. Oddly enough, his confidence only made Arthur more sweet on the man, and he couldn’t exactly deny he didn’t like the flirting. In fact, it was exhilarating to know someone was this openly interested in him.

Arthur Kirkland: You’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you?

Alfred Jones: yeah, ive been told its attractive on me ;)

Arthur Kirkland: It is.

There was a pause, even though Arthur could see his message had been received and read, and he smirked at having caught the other off guard for once.

Alfred Jones: that the only thing u find attractive on me? ;) ;)

Arthur snorted again then, refusing to engage in something as juvenile as what Alfred was proposing. But before he could voice that thought (or write it), his phone was suddenly snatched from his hands. He startled and looked up just in time to see Francis race down the aisle with his phone in his hands, and cursed loudly before he started his pursuit. There were only so much aisles for Francis to escape in, and eventually he’d managed to grab hold of Francis’ hair, yanking on it and grinning evilly when Francis squealed with pained surprise.

“Should’ve worn your hair up today, Rapunzel!”

“Unhand me, you vile Englishman!”

Despite his firm grip on Francis’ hair, and probably tearing out a few of his precious strands, Francis refused to give back his phone, wriggling sideways and trying to wrench himself out of Arthur’s grip by elbowing him harshly.

“Gentlemen,” Someone suddenly said, and they both froze and turned towards the salesman, who looked as if he wanted to be anywhere else but where he was. “Is there a problem?”

Arthur abruptly let go of Francis’ hair, and Francis let go of his shirt. Then Francis tried to edge away from him, trying to use Arthur’s embarrassment to his advantage, and Arthur shoved his shoulder and snatched his phone back from him.

“None at all, we're sorry for the disturbance.” Arthur said politely, quickly pocketing his phone.

“Please calm down, or I will have to ask you both to leave the store.” The man said then, glancing at them both hesitantly before promptly turning around and leaving them there.

Francis snorted as he tried not to laugh out loud, eyeing Arthur with mischief, and Arthur ran a hand over his face, feeling a headache coming up. He could only hope there was no one in this store that knew him or, god forbid, was related to one of their students.

“You’re unbelievable.” He accused, following Francis back to the aisle with paints. At least Francis had settled on a color, and he sighed with relief when Francis picked up two cans of a shade of beige. Francis promptly deposited them into Arthur’s arms, turning back around with a flourish and heading towards the brushes and other painting necessities.

“Ne t’en fais pas, I did not have the time to see what you and Alfred were talking about.” Arthur glared, feeling his face heat up. “But you’re going to tell me, of course, oui?”

“Absolutely not, you nosy frog.”

“Poule mouillée.” Francis tutted, and Arthur resisted the renewed urge to pull at his hair. “But I am glad to see you got over your silliness, mon cher. When is the wedding?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“If I buy you lunch, will you tell me more?”

Arthur was going to regret this, but he actually did want to talk to Francis about his upcoming date with Alfred. He had more or less resigned himself to accepting that he had feelings for the firefighter; how could he not, when he acted like a lovesick puppy every time his phone buzzed?

Now that those feelings were, however unexpected, returned, Arthur had realized that he didn’t want to deprive himself of this. The more he thought about it (it being Alfred and his body on top of Arthur's), the more he yearned, and the only thing giving him pause were the kindergartners in his class.

“Fine. But only because I know you won’t shut up otherwise.”

“Splendid! To the cashier!”

Alfred had insisted on picking him up, despite Arthur claiming he would be perfectly able to meet him at the restaurant himself. He supposed there was something sweet about Alfred attempting to convince him though, and eventually he gave up and accepted.

“So, what’s your curfew? Do you want me to go in and say hi to your folks, first?” Alfred cheerfully said when Arthur entered the car, laughing when Arthur glared at him in return.

“Mind your manners; I happen to have three older brothers.” He said haughtily then, not bothering to tell Alfred that those three older brothers all lived on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean and that he wasn’t on speaking terms with one of them.

“Yikes. That sounds rough.” Alfred quipped sympathetically.

“You have no idea.” He agreed, grimacing at a random memory of his childhood. “Are you the younger brother, too?”

“Nope! Mattie and I are twins. Fraternal. Having twins kinda runs in the family, haha.”

Arthur tilted is head, a little surprised at this bit of information. While Matthew and Alfred certainly looked alike, somehow he had always thought of Matthew being the older one. He supposed he fell victim to a bias – Matthew presented himself a bit more responsibly than Alfred did, and he was a father to boot.

“Wait,” He exclaimed, suddenly confused by something else entirely. “You two don’t share the same last name.” Right when he said it, he regretted it, because it may have been a touchy subject. However, the look on Alfred’s face merely suggested that it was something he had to explain often.

“Yeah, he took his wife’s name when they married.” Alfred said, without skipping a beat. “He wasn’t very close with our parents. Moving to Canada wasn’t enough, I  guess, but he’s back now. All water under the bridge now.”

“Are you?” Arthur couldn’t help but ask, curiosity piqued. “Close with your parents, I mean.”

“I guess I was, but they’re both gone, so not anymore.”

Arthur froze, feeling dread wash over him. “That was terribly rude of me. I’m so sorry – “

“No, hey, it’s okay! I don’t mind.” Alfred quickly reassured, taking his eyes from the road for a brief second to smile at him. “How about you?”

Arthur realized he didn’t want to lie, but he wasn’t going to spill the entire story either, simply because he didn’t want any pity and because he didn’t really want to think about it himself. He knew that despite everything his parents probably still loved him, but much like with Alistair, they weren’t on speaking terms.

“We’re not terribly close.” He settled on saying. “They still live in England, and we don’t really talk. I don’t mind.”

Whether or not Alfred realized that wasn’t the entire story, Arthur couldn’t tell, because Alfred simply hummed sympathetically.

“Tell me more,” Alfred then urged, and Arthur was about to protest when he continued. “I've never been to England. What was it like, growing up there?”

It was a familiar and safe subject, and he shared some memories and random tidbits about his previous life, taking the time to answer Alfred’s questions and exasperatedly rolling his eyes whenever Alfred would make a taunting reference to a popular show or movie.

They arrived at the restaurant a few minutes later, and were seated at their designated table without any fuss. After they ordered their drinks, Alfred rested one elbow on the table, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hand. Arthur eyed him over the rim of the menu, pretending to contemplate what he was in the mood for while in reality he already knew the menu by heart thanks to previous experiences.

He’d expected Alfred to eventually avert his eyes or voice his thoughts, but he didn’t, and while the blatant scrutiny made his skin crawl pleasantly, eventually Arthur got impatient.

“Out with it, then.” He scolded amicably, and Alfred grinned when Arthur put the menu down to return his gaze.

“I was just thinking about how surprised I was when you agreed to this, ‘s all.” Alfred admitted then, eyes squinting playfully.

“Why were you surprised?” He asked, even though he could probably guess the answer. After all, Arthur had been surprised he agreed to go on a date with the man opposite of him, as well. And he supposed he had never really responded to some of Alfred’s innocent flirting earlier on in their... friendship?

Alfred looked contemplative for a moment, and then shrugged nonchalantly. “Just didn’t think I’d be that lucky, I guess.”

Arthur felt his heart swell a little at that, but quickly realized Alfred knew exactly what he was doing when he spotted the boyish glint in his eyes. What a prat – a charming, suave and juvenile prat.

“It’s a wonder you’re still unattached with such a smooth tongue, Mr. Jones.”

Alfred laughed at the use of his formal title, and winked at him. “You’d be surprised at how many people actually wanna date a firefighter, teach.”

He was, in fact, surprised by that. And although Alfred grinned while he said it, turning it into a joke, Arthur swore he could also hear a question in disguise. Before he could answer it, he’d need clarification, though.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we have pretty crazy schedules. Even if I'm on leave, I gotta be available twenty four seven in case of an emergency. And sometimes I gotta spend the nights at the station. Then there's the risk that comes with me being in the, often literal, line of fire." Alfred rattled off, shrugging nonchalantly. "All in all, it doesn't paint a domestic picture, y'know?"

Arthur frowned: logically speaking, he could understand some people would agree with that. Dating a firefighter, or people with similar careers, wasn’t always convenient. People who needed constant reassurance or company would probably not be able to handle it. But Arthur had always been an independent and laid-back person, especially when it came to relationships.

"I suppose I understand, but it shouldn't matter." He mused then. "If someone really cares for you, they'd make it work. That's what matters in the end, no?"

Alfred didn’t reply immediately, partly due to the waiter arriving with their drinks. He maintained eye contact with Arthur though, even when he politely thanked the waiter. There was something profound glimmering in his eyes, something that made Arthur’s pulse quicken, but he matched him with an even look in return.

“Yeah, I guess.” He eventually answered, easy smile returning.

A small part of him, the rational and dull one, had secretly hoped that the date would be awkward, or that it’d feel wrong, or that perhaps Alfred would eventually do something that would prove that an entanglement would be a bad idea.

He should’ve known better by now, of course, and every other part of him positively preened at the fact that the date wasn’t awkward. He was actually a little surprised at how natural and right the evening felt, and by the time Alfred had talked Arthur out of splitting the bill ("You can pay next time, Artie."), he realized he was in way over his head.

Alfred was nothing but devilishly charming, growing bolder every time Arthur responded positively to his teasing and flirting, and the way he constantly looked at Arthur, or constantly found an excuse to brush their hands together, spoke volumes of what was going on inside of his head.

Arthur was aware he was treading in dangerous waters, but he couldn’t help himself. The challenging promise in Alfred’s eyes, combined with the sharpness of his grin and his easy posture – it excited him immensely. He couldn’t even remember the last time someone looked at him like that.

“So, as bad as you thought it’d be?” Alfred teased as they left the restaurant, and Arthur rolled his eyes at him, smiling fondly at the same time.

“Worse.” He replied. “You were such a gentlemen, it was a complete turn-off.”

“Oh man, I knew I should’ve insulted you more. That obviously went so well when we first met. Darn.” The firefighter said with a huff of laughter, shaking his fist with mock regret.

Arthur laughed, dipping his head downwards to hide his face a little. The amusement in Alfred’s voice told him that Alfred knew he was just messing with him, and he decided not to lamely exclaim that he’d enjoyed the date.

On the drive back, Arthur busied himself with the buttons of Alfred’s radio, creating a distraction so that he could try and sort his thoughts a little. The date had obviously been a raging success, and Alfred (the arrogant prick) was obviously aware of how interested Arthur was in him too, so there was no point in trying to pretend otherwise.

Yet, no matter how giddy he felt, there was still a nagging voice in his head, telling him this was a bad idea and that it was only going to cause trouble. He knew the mature and proper thing to do was to be honest with Alfred, but shit, it was hard not to give into temptation.

By the time Alfred parked his car in the conveniently empty spot right in front of his building, they’d stopped talking, and Arthur couldn’t help but fantasize about what would happen if he were to invite him up. He was probably going to regret not doing so.

“I’m going to have to be honest with you.” He started, already mourning what could’ve been a spectacular night. Alfred cocked his head with a rather adorable frown, obviously waiting for him to elaborate. “If – if this is to – well, it’s just that I – what I mean is -” Arthur groaned and closed his eyes for a second, face heating up a little when Alfred chuckled under his breath. “Right, let me try that again. If this is… serious, I want to take it slow.”

He opened his eyes again, turning in his seat to gauge Alfred’s reaction. The confusion on Alfred’s face made way for understanding. “Is this about the girls?”

Despite his nervousness, Arthur felt as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders. He nodded, soothed by Alfred’s unwavering smile. “I’m their teacher, and you’re their uncle, and – “

“And you don’t want things to get messy.” Alfred interrupted gently. “Yeah, I get that, I’ve been thinking about it too. But you won’t have them again after the end of this year, right?”

Arthur raised his eyebrows, a little surprised that Alfred apparently had thought that far ahead already. He nodded slowly, and Alfred tapped the side of his head with a finger, smiling knowingly.

“Summer's only two months from now.”

“I won’t ask you to wait.” Arthur forced himself to say then, feeling as if he were making entirely too big a deal out of this. It felt a little ridiculous to say even, as if he were playing a hard-to-get character in a corny romantic novel.

Alfred shrugged indifferently, and reached out to trace his fingers over Arthur’s jaw. Arthur’s resolve nearly crumbled at that small and sweet gesture alone, but he soldiered on and left the ball in Alfred’s court.

“I might surprise you.” Alfred reassured, his thumb brushing over his cheekbone. “But are we talking about waiting altogether, or about taking it slow to see where it leads? Because I gotta admit I’m gonna have a really hard time holding back now that I got a taste.”

At least Arthur learned one thing about himself that night: Alfred’s blatant appreciation of him was exhilarating, and addictive, and nothing short of a turn-on.

“You haven’t gotten a taste yet.” He countered, his voice lower than he had meant it to be.

Alfred’s eyes immediately dropped to his mouth, and the fingers on his jaw twitched, as if he wanted to pull Arthur closer. Arthur made the decision for him by leaning forward slowly, not breaking eye-contact. Eventually Alfred realized what was going to happen, and he quickly closed the remaining distance. Arthur’s eyes instantly slipped shut to prevent himself from going cross-eyed, and then all he could focus on was the fit of Alfred’s lips against his own.

The kiss started out soft, and was actually rather sweet, but then Alfred's hand ended up against the back of his neck and Arthur pressed his tongue along Alfred’s lower lip in response. The kiss turned from something sweet to something more breathtaking: the slide of Alfred’s tongue against his own was intoxicating, as was the feel of his hand on the back of his neck. He imagined he would be quite happy to simply sit here and kiss this gorgeous man for the remainder of the night.

Unfortunately, when he shifted in his seat, the strain in his side reminded him that he was sitting in an awfully uncomfortable position. He could of course wriggle out of his seat and onto Alfred’s lap, but he had just announced that he wanted to take it slow, and Arthur was nothing if not stubborn.

So it was with regret that he eventually pulled back, heart skipping a delighted beat when Alfred instinctively tried to follow, his name escaping the firefighter’s lips as if it were a prayer. He watched as Alfred’s eyes blinked open, a somewhat dazed expression on his face, and couldn’t help the fond smile tugging at his lips when Alfred pouted as if he were being denied a treat.

“Damn.” He said, slowly leaning back into his own seat. “Now waiting is gonna be absolutely impossible.”

“Not waiting,” Arthur reminded him. One of his hands was still on Alfred’s chest, and he idly flicked a button of his dress-shirt between his fingers before retreating. “Taking it slow.”

“Another reason to look forward to summer.” Alfred mused then, as if he were making a compromise, and Arthur chuckled, relief and excitement making him feel lightheaded.

He couldn’t help but sneak in another thorough snog before dragging himself out of Alfred’s grasp and car, spending the rest of the night on his phone with a silly smile on his face.

Chapter Text

Usually Arthur took his time to think something through, and because of that, he had not yet made a lot of decisions he sorely regretted afterwards.

However, his current situation was definitely the aftermath of a decision he had obviously not thought through enough.

He wasn’t sure what exactly it was he regretted, though: getting involved with Alfred in the first place, or choosing to take it slow. It would’ve been so much easier for his mental well-being if he had been able to postpone his involvement with Alfred until summer altogether.

Because right now they were in this weird, kind of in-between place, where they both knew that what they currently had wasn’t enough, but also knew that they couldn’t do anything about it yet.

And for fuck’s sake – Alfred was not making this easy.

Alfred Jones: u have been on my mind all day

Arthur Kirkland: It’s 8 in the morning?

Alfred Jones: had the night shift, time means nothing to me

Arthur Kirkland: Go to bed.

Alfred Jones: why bother when im already dreaming of u wide awake

Arthur released a long-suffering sigh, refusing to give in to the urge of smiling like a lovesick teenager. In just thirty minutes his room would be full of nosy, bratty children, and he was not going to allow himself to get distracted.

It was bad enough that Alfred had managed to convince him to agree to another date. Arthur should know better, but then again, he’d also snogged the man’s living brains out on their first date, and he was probably giving mixed signals anyway.

Alfred Jones: fine ill go to bed :(

Arthur Kirkland: Good boy.

Alfred Jones: loooool i know u meant that in a teacher way but damn

Arthur had actually not meant it in a teacher way, because he knew it would amuse Alfred. He grinned at his phone, and ignored the blush that was undoubtedly appearing on his face, since he was still alone in the room anyway.

Deciding to let Alfred stew on that last exchange, and knowing that the parents with tight schedules would drop their kids off early, he deposited his phone in his desk and locked the drawer. On his way to the teacher’s lounge, Francis caught up to him, amicably swinging an arm around his shoulder and expertly dodging Arthur’s elbow.

“You look happy, Arthur! It’s a little weird.”

“Happy Monday to you too, frog.” 

“How was your weekend? Did anything fun? Or anyone?” Arthur pursed his lips and shook Francis’ arm off of him as they entered the lounge. It was devoid of anyone else, fortunately, and he quickly headed towards the counter with his friend hot on his tail. “Don’t be like that! I tell you everything.”

 “Exactly; I wish you wouldn’t.”

Francis immaturely stuck out his tongue at him, but handed him his favorite cup unprompted anyway, and Arthur handed him the jar of coffee beans in return.

He had, of course, already told Francis about his first date with Alfred – not in great detail, but he shared enough for the Frenchman to get a general gist of what happened. He’d teased Arthur about the taking-it-slow part, and had also asked if Arthur really wanted to take it slow because of the twins in his class, or because he was actually a little anxious to date again after having been single for so long.

And well, that opened up a whole new can of worms.

The thing was: Arthur had not had a proper relationship since he moved to the United States. Sure, he’d gone on a few dates here and there, and he had a few one-night stands he'd rather forget, but he hadn’t actually – as Francis would mockingly call it – gone steady with anyone since he graduated college.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t want a relationship. All his time so far had just been consumed by moving to another country, finding a new place and a new job, and then acclimating to said country and job. What little energy and free time he had left, had mostly gone to building up a new social circle – not dating.

Then Alfred had barreled into his life, catching him off guard with his dazzling charm, boyish smiles and witty remarks. And for some god forsaken reason, the absolute Adonis of a man was interested in boring little Arthur, too.

Okay, so perhaps Arthur was a little anxious. That didn't change anything about the fact that he also had to take the girls into consideration, anyway.

He was sure Marianne Williams was a lovely woman and mother, but Arthur was very glad that it was usually Matthew Williams who attended his parent-teacher nights. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was French, of course (no matter what Francis liked to imply snobbishly).

She simply just always had a strong opinion on either his teaching, his fashion sense, his ‘tacky British accent’, and so on. That morning she had told him to keep an eye on Meg, since she wore one of her better dresses, and Arthur had to bite his tongue – kindergartners were not supposed to wear their better clothes to school, if you asked him.

Predictably, Meg chose that day of all days to forgo her shy persona, mimicking her sister’s rowdy behavior instead. It resulted in a little meltdown when she realized she had torn her dress, and her mood stayed foul the rest of the day, even after Arthur managed to fix the tear with a needle and some thread.

Because Meg was in a foul mood, her sister was obviously also in a foul mood. By the time he’d stopped their fourth fight of the day, he realized it had already been an hour since his class ended.

“Ugh, where is uncle Al?” Emily grumbled from her side of the classroom. From the other side, Meg grumbled along, voicing her own distaste at her uncle’s tardiness.

Arthur somewhat shared their sentiment, and he checked his phone again. He’d already texted Alfred and even tried calling him, but it had gone straight to voicemail. The last text he received from the man was the rather sweet good morning message he’d gotten at seven.

He sighed and eyed the clock for what felt like the hundredth time. He couldn’t call their parents either, since they were out of town for the night (hence why Alfred was supposed to pick them up in the first place). And as far as he knew, the only other living relatives the girls had lived in Canada.

“Emily, your face will get stuck if you keep frowning.” He said absentmindedly, hoping to lighten the mood a little.

Meg snorted. “Yeah! Your eyebrows will grow as big as Arthur’s.”

“Excuse me?” Arthur exclaimed, a little insulted, but also a little amused when both girls dissolved into giggles.

He rolled his eyes at them and looked back at his phone. He knew Alfred was on duty, and it was very likely that he was out on a call. Despite his better judgment, worry built up in his gut.

“I wanna go home.” Meg suddenly whimpered and Arthur sighed, deciding that enough was enough.

He kind of wanted to go home himself, and he sympathized immensely with the girls. Resolutely he thumbed through his list of contacts, ending at the number already saved in his contacts in case of an emergency. He quickly dialed it and gestured for the girls to be silent. A mere few seconds later it was picked up by a cheerful, feminine voice, asking him how she could be of service.

"Hello, I was wondering if Alfred Jones is available and if I could speak to him."

"Alfred's still out on a call, I'm afraid. Would you like to leave a message, mister...?"

His suspicion was proven correct, and Arthur was actually a little surprised that it hadn’t happened before yet. Fortunately the woman didn’t sound concerned, so this call Alfred was still on was probably nothing too bad.

"Arthur Kirkland. His nieces are in my class?"

"Oh, yeah! Alfred mentioned he was bringing them over after school, which... darn, which already ended a while ago, right?"

He relaxed a little, thankful he wouldn’t have to explain. "Yes. They're getting a little impatient, I'm afraid."

"Aww, poor girls! I can see if I can send someone over to grab them?"

That would be ideal, were it not for the fact that Arthur legally wasn't allowed to give the girls to anyone unrelated or unauthorized by one of the girls' parents for pick up.

He looked at the girls, who had slid out of their chairs and were now standing at Arthur’s desk, their eyes big and watery and pleading.

The fire station wasn't that far away. Arthur wouldn't be able to drive them, as he had no proper car seats, but he remembered there being a bus that stopped outside the school and nearby the station. Of course he’d have to wait until Alfred came back, but he figured the girls would at least be happier at the fire station.

"I could bring them over myself, if that's all right."

Immediately the girls perked up and cheered loudly, and Arthur exasperatedly hushed them, straining to hear the woman he was speaking to.

"Really? Yeah, if it's not too much trouble! Alfred should be back soon."

He guaranteed her it was fine and ended the call, which prompted the girls to hurriedly grab their backpacks and jackets, shouting at Arthur to hurry up. And while Arthur knew he was supposed to scold the girls, he could not help but be relieved at seeing them giggle instead of mope.

“Have you ever been to the station?” Emily asked for the third time since they left the school.

“I can’t say I ever have, no.”

“It’s suuuuuuper big. There’s a lot of trucks and people. And Hero is there too! Sometimes we bake cookies with Liz, or we play scrabble with Toni! And we play hide and seek with Gil, but he’s really bad at it, he always loses. I don’t really like the chief, he’s the boss and super scary and super tall. He doesn’t smile at all. But he lets us hide in his office when we play hide and seek. Maybe I like him a little.”

“It sounds like a lot of fun.” Arthur replied, a little distracted at the prospect of seeing Alfred again – and outside the safety of his classroom, too.

“It is! Did you know the chief has a wife? His name is Tino and he’s really pretty. I want a wife as pretty as Tino when I grow up. Meg is super in love with Gil, but he’s not as pretty as Tino.”

“I’m not in love with Gil!”

“Are too!”

“Am not! And you can’t have a wife when you grow up because you’re a girl!”

“Shut up! Uncle Al says I can, and he’s a boy who likes boys, so I can be a girl who likes girls! Right Arthur?”

Oh, dear. He sincerely hoped their parents would be okay with him addressing this subject with them, but figured that if they already knew of their uncle’s preferences, it would probably not be a problem.

“You can fall in love with whoever you want to, Emily. It doesn’t matter if they are a girl or boy.”

“Told ya!”

“Do you have a wife or husband, Arthur?” Meg asked, ignoring her sister.

“Not yet, dear. I’m far too busy with teaching little girls like yourselves.”

Emily yanked at his arm harshly, and Arthur tried not to grimace – she was stronger than she thought. “Then I will marry you when I grow up, Arthur! You’re not as pretty as Tino, but I like you the best!”

Arthur's heart swelled with affection, and he resisted the urge to pinch her cheeks and hug her so tightly he’d crush her.

Idly, he wondered how they’d react if they discovered he was …. Involved? With their uncle. If it were up to him, they wouldn’t find out until they were much, much older. If Arthur was still involved with Alfred by then, of course.

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

They arrived at the station and once inside, Emily promptly let go of his hand to run off. She disappeared around the corner while ignoring Arthur’s exasperated plea to stay close, but at least Meg stayed put. A mere few seconds later, he heard Emily squeal loudly, and she rushed back into view. She nearly collided with him before hiding behind his legs, giggling when a man and a woman appeared from behind the corner.

“There’s little girl on the menu tonight. I’m so hungry - oh.”

Arthur smiled politely when they caught sight of him, and their surprise immediately shifted into understanding.

“You must be Arthur Kirkland!” The brown-haired woman exclaimed with a pretty smile. “I’m Liz, the dispatcher you spoke to on the phone. This is Gilbert, our very own kindergartner.”

The man in question frowned and shoved her gently. Then, just as Arthur recognized the man's shockingly white hair, the man recognized him too.

"Oh my god, you’re the cat guy!" He exclaimed excitedly, and Arthur tried not to grimace as his suspicions were confirmed - this man had been the other firefighter that had accompanied Alfred in rescuing his cat.

"Yes, thank you again for your help that day." Arthur managed to grind out with a somewhat polite smile, ignoring how the girls giggled behind him.

“Liz, this is Arthur. THE Arthur.”

Now, Arthur did grimace. Apparently Alfred had given him a much bigger reputation than he’d initially feared. Liz seemed to sympathize with him, because she elbowed her coworker in the side harshly.

“Ow! You biiii…g baby.”

"Arthur! Gil wanted to say a bad word!" Emily gasped, bouncing up and down and tugging at Arthur's sleeves harshly.

Arthur looked down at her. "And what do we say to people who want to say bad words?"

"If you don't have anything nice to say, then you shouldn't say anything at all." Both Emily and Meg dutifully chanted and Arthur nodded with satisfaction.

"Awww!" Liz said, leaning down towards the girls a little. "They're like little brainwashed puppies. The boys here could do with some of that firm teaching too, Mr. Kirkland. How much do you charge?"

"Arthur, please. And I'm afraid I can't do much for adult boys, miss."

"Haha, I'm sure you could - ouch! Contain yourself woman, we’re at work, jeeze. Meg, save me from this abuse!"

Meg let go of Arthur and skipped right into Gilbert's waiting arms, giggling when he hoisted her up. Arthur was a bit surprised to see the usually timid girl so at ease with the stranger - though he supposed the man wasn't a stranger to her.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Liz asked then. "I'm sure the girls would love to show you around while you wait for Alfred to come back."

"Yes! Yes, Arthur, please lemme show you around!" Emily exclaimed, grabbing onto his hand again and roughly tugging at it again.

"A cup of tea would be lovely, if you have some." He said as he yielded, allowing Emily to pull him further into the station.

Reluctantly, Arthur had agreed to leave Meg with Gilbert, as the girl was still tucked in his arm and hiding in his chest. She was – as Emily said - rather fond of the white-haired man, and Gil told him it would be okay because he was technically off-duty anyway.

Emily toured him around the station in a record pace, bouncing around energetically. There were still signs of her foul mood; if Arthur didn’t hurry up enough, she would complain, and sometimes she pouted as if she wanted to get angry but wasn’t sure what about.

By the time they ended back in the cafeteria, Meg had released her tight grip on Gilbert and was now quietly drawing on large white sheets of paper with some crayons. On her right was a lemonade and a cookie, and Emily instantly rushed over to steal her cookie.

Arthur only just managed to stop their sudden argument from turning into a fight, and sat Emily down at another table with her own lemonade and cookie, courtesy of Gilbert.

“How the fu- uh, fudge, do you deal with that so calmly?” Gilbert said as he threw himself in the chair opposite of him, nodding towards Emily and Meg with a grimace.  

Arthur shrugged. “Dealing with excitable kids is sort of what I do.”

“Right, teacher.” Gilbert agreed. “Everyone here’s wrapped around their little fingers and they know it. Though we can usually calm them down by threatening to sic Berwald on them, haha.”

“Your chief, right? I’m surprised he allows them to run amok here.”

They politely engaged in some more small talk while Arthur kept a watchful eye on the twins, when a loud, brief alarm suddenly sounded, causing Arthur to startle.

 “Speak of the devil, that’ll be our loverboy. Girls! Al’s back, can you take Arthur down?”

The girls loudly agreed and Arthur exasperatedly bid Gilbert goodbye while being dragged down to the small seating area attached to the garage. Once there, the girls rushed towards the railings separating the areas, scanning the small crowd of firefighters dressed in their gear. They managed to spot Alfred before he did.

Alfred spotted them too, and quickly separated himself from the group. If Arthur’s heart skipped a traitorous beat at the sight of his bright, relieved smile, well; no one but him was going to know.

He watched as Alfred agilely jumped over the railing, his boots landing heavily on the tiled floor. He looked a little sweaty and tired, but painted on a dazzling grin as he held out his arms towards the girls.

However, instead of rushing over to him, both girls stayed at Arthur’s side and promptly started crying.

“Oh, dear.” Arthur mumbled under his breath, having expected this. Alfred obviously hadn’t, because his grin disappeared like snow in the sun, replaced by a panicked expression.

It was a little endearing, Arthur had to admit. He smiled sympathetically at Alfred, who looked at him helplessly, and crouched down to be on the girls' level.

"We had such an exciting day, didn't we? Your uncle would love to hear about what a wonderful job you did of showing me around.”

“No! He was super late! I want to go home and I want my mommy.” Emily immediately grumbled, rubbing at her eyes furiously.

“Yes, but you know he was out helping people. He’s a hero, isn’t he?”

Meg hid her face in Arthur’s shoulder and Emily managed to quiet down to sniffles, looking over at her uncle with suspicion.

“Did you help people?” She demanded, and Alfred huffed with tentative amusement.

“Sure did, baby girl. I even got to use the hose.”

His statement piqued Emily’s interest, and she glanced at the truck, before hesitantly looking back at Arthur, who smiled encouragingly at her.

“I wouldn’t hug him though, he looks really dirty. Then again, your uncle will probably lift you up and throw you in the air if you ran over to him. Would that be worth getting dirty for?"

"Yes." Emily gasped. "He can throw me really high."

"Wanna show Arthur how high?" Alfred quipped and Emily's face shifted into one of instant excitement, tears forgotten.

Arthur ignored his instinct to tell her to be careful as she rushed over to her uncle who, in a rather impressive display of strength, caught her and bounced her into the air once, making her laugh with delight.

“Meg, do you want to go and hug your uncle too?” Meg’s fingers tightened around Arthur’s shirt. “Do you want to walk to uncle Al together?” She nodded then, and he stood back up, gently tugging her towards Alfred.

Once they were close, Meg released him and shuffled over to Alfred, holding out her arms and giggling when Alfred used his free arm to hoist her up as well. Both girls had to weigh at least 50 pounds both, and yet he didn't break a sweat.

Again: if Arthur was secretly admiring this little fact, no one but him was going to know.

"I'm so sorry girls. I promise I’ll make it up to you. We can do whatever you two want tonight."

"Can we eat pizza and have ice cream for dessert?"

"Heck yeah!"

"And can we watch Frozen one and two before bed?"

Arthur smirked when Alfred's smile faltered, but their uncle swallowed his pride and agreed with them nonetheless.

Then a dog barked and jumped up against the railings, startling Arthur a little. Both girls gasped and wrestled their way down again, rushing over to delve their little hands into the shepherd-mix' fur.

Alfred chuckled, realizing the crisis was averted. "All right then, Hero's waited all day for you two. Why don't you girls go get him a snack from the cafeteria? But be careful, don't get in the way and listen to the others!”

The girls eagerly agreed and fled into the kitchen, the dog hot on their tails. Arthur automatically turned to follow, but halted when Alfred suddenly reached out to tentatively brush his hand against his arm.

“I’m so sorry, an emergency came up and it took much longer than we expected, and my phone died.” Alfred quickly explained, and Arthur attempted a reassuring smile, refusing to acknowledge he’d been worried.

“Don’t worry,” He quickly replied. “it's all right. The girls just had a long day.”

Alfred nodded, still looking a little unsure. "Thanks for bringing them here. Could you, uh, maybe not mention this to their mom or dad?"

Arthur definitely knew why Alfred would make this request, and when he inevitably imagined the fit Marianne Williams would throw, had to hold in a laugh. It turned into a rather unattractive mix of a snort and a chuckle, and he quickly raised a hand to his mouth, a little embarrassed.

"Ahem. My lips are sealed." Arthur said after he cleared his throat, trying not to think about how bloody attracted he was to Alfred, despite the man being covered in soot and sweat and wearing his lumpy gear.

It didn’t help that Alfred’s smirk had turned into the dopey little smile he’d last seen at the end of their first date – and it had the same effect on him, because all Arthur could think about was dragging him down to kiss him.

Then a vaguely familiar firefighter appeared on Alfred’s side, abruptly cutting his brief daydream short. "Jones! Who's your friend?"

Alfred grimaced, and instantly Arthur realized Alfred was hesitant about introducing him. He felt himself grin lightly – after all, Alfred had apparently gossiped about him, and now it would seem he would have to lie in the bed he made.

“This is… Arthur. Emmy and Meg’s teacher.”

“THE Arthur!” Gilbert shouted helpfully as he passed them on his way to the truck, and Alfred groaned when several other firefighters in the garage laughed and wolf-whistled. Arthur was very aware of the blush on his face, but he was also very much so enjoying Alfred’s embarrassment.

"I see my reputation exceeds me." He stated, and Alfred at least had the decency to look a little apologetic.

“You’ve no idea.” The firefighter at Alfred’s side said with a sharp grin. Arthur suddenly realized why he looked familiar: it was the same one who’d shown up at Francis’ apartment. “You know those ‘this many days since an accident’ calendars? We have one, but with how many days it’s been since Alfred waxed poetry about your ass.”

“Dude!” Alfred exclaimed, elbowing his coworker harsh enough for the man to stumble. “That’s so rude and totally uncool!”

“But he’s not lying.” A new firefighter commented, and Arthur definitely remembered him - after all, he still had another drawing in his desk for him, courtesy of Lovino. “Hola, Arthur, nice to see you again. How are you?”

“Better now that I am talking to someone civilized.” He sniped, willing his face to cool down and pointedly ignoring the brief scuffle the other two firefighters were suddenly engaged in.

Eventually the man made his escape, laughing obnoxiously, and Alfred glared at his back. “Yeah, you better run Mathias! Next time I see you, your ass is grass!”

“Get in line, Lukas already called dibs!”

Antonio shrugged at Arthur, obviously letting him know that this was very normal for them, and Arthur couldn’t help but feel a little amused. Then Alfred grabbed his elbow, gently tugging him away.

“Come on Artie, before anyone else decides they have too much time on their hands. Toni, can you ask Liz to check on the girls?”

Antonio nodded and Alfred tugged Arthur out of the garage, cursing at some firefighters who hooted at them in the background. Arthur gave up the fight against his burning cheeks and frowned when Alfred pulled him through a door that led to the dressing rooms.

“Is this where you bring all your paramours?” He said as Alfred led him to what had to be his locker, unaware that he had only meant to think it and not voice it out loud.

The damage had already been done though, because Alfred turned around and grinned down at him with mischief.

“Only the prettiest ones.”

Arthur felt something inside him flutter affectionately; he’d never really been called pretty before, nor had he ever really thought about being called pretty, but Alfred was, as always, generous with his praise.

“Flatterer.” He chose to murmur, trying not to get distracted by their proximity. “It's refreshing to know I've been upgraded from cat-guy to ass-guy.”

There was an embarrassed little tinge to Alfred’s cheeky grin then. “It’s impossible to keep a secret here. But yeah, your ass is the nicest ass I’ve ever seen.”

He accentuated his words by leaning forward slowly, giving Arthur enough time to back away in case he felt uncomfortable. Once he realized Arthur wasn’t moving away, he slid his hands towards aforementioned ass, and while Arthur tried to glare disapprovingly, he knew he failed simply by allowing it.

This whole taking-it-slow business was going to be a lot tougher than he had anticipated, Arthur realized for the umpteenth time that week.

Being in Alfred’s presence - and interacting with him like this - was intoxicating. As was Alfred’s continuous blatant displays of appreciation and affection. And well, shit, Arthur was only human.

“In the dressing rooms? What are we, sixteen?”

“If it makes you feel any better, we can totally make out in your school’s gym next time.” Alfred teased, leaning down to brush their noses together.

Arthur closed his eyes to avoid going cross-eyed; only Alfred saw it as an invitation to continue. When he kissed him, Arthur didn’t protest, despite knowing he should. It was a pretty sweet and superficial kiss, right up until Alfred squeezed his buttocks, causing his pulse to quicken in a way it should not in such a public place.

“Down, you degenerate.” Arthur scolded as he turned his head a little, and Alfred snickered.

“I could get used to you waiting for me here after work.” Alfred murmured against his cheek. “Allows me to show you off a little.”

Arthur felt himself wanting to smile again, affection burning hot inside his chest, briefly forgetting their current whereabouts when Alfred kissed him again, the tip of his tongue brushing at his lower lip teasingly.

Then the door swung open and he jumped back as if touched by fire. His back hit the locker behind him with a loud noise, and he glared when he saw Alfred’s satisfied and amused expression.

“Get a room, Al!” A firefighter Arthur had not been introduced to yet complained, before disappearing behind another row of lockers. Alfred laughed, and Arthur wondered if this too was something that happened more often around here.

He swiftly took a step backwards when Alfred leered at him again, and the blonde firefighter shrugged with a grin.

“Anyway, sorry for my mates.” Alfred said, turning towards his locker while tugging off his turnout jacket. “As you can see, I also deal with a bunch of children on the regular.”

Right. The children.

“I should go check on the girls.” Arthur said, tearing his eyes from Alfred’s bare biceps. “And then I should probably head home.”

“Aw, okay.” Alfred pouted playfully. “Did you get here by car?”

"By bus. I didn't have any car seats for the girls."

"I’ll give you a ride back!" Alfred immediately proposed. "It's the least I could do."

“I wouldn't want to impose."

“Nonsense, sweetheart. Just lemme get cleaned up real quick.”

Sweetheart?

Arthur froze for a second, glad that at least Alfred was unaware of his surprise as the firefighter was currently digging through his locker. 

He’d never been one for nicknames – cute little names like darling, dear or sweetie were names he often gave to his littlest students, not potential lovers. Yet he couldn’t deny liking the way the word flowed from Alfred’s lips.

He mumbled his consent and quickly left the room, trying not to ponder on it too much as he searched for the girls.

They were in the cafeteria, playing with Hero and having him perform all kinds of tricks while dangling dog treats from their fingers. Liz was wearing a headset and talking into it while keeping an eye on them, but when she saw him, he could see she was trying to hold in a laugh.

He was wondering why, when suddenly the girls noticed him, and they both frowned at him.

“Arthur, your face is dirty!”

Confused, Arthur raised his hand to wipe at his cheek, mortified when it came back covered in soot.

That wanker.

The moment Alfred drove the truck out of the fire station’s parking lot, the girls were fast asleep. Hero sat between Arthur’s legs due to lack of other space, and he smiled down at the dog as he gently carded his fingers in his fur.

“He’s very well-behaved.” He said softly, as to not wake the girls up. “Does he go with you on calls often?”

Alfred glanced sideways and smiled, nodding. “Occasionally, yeah. He's good at offering emotional support to people when there's an emergency."

“I can imagine.” Arthur mused, forcing the renewed and sudden feeling of concern down.

Hero sighed (rather dramatically for a dog, Arthur might add) and lied down, moving out of Arthur’s reach. As if on cue, Alfred casually leaned over, grabbing Arthur’s hand and lacing their fingers together.

Arthur spared a moment to glance at the girls behind them in the rear view mirror, but they were still sacked out. Experimentally he squeezed Alfred’s hand, and immediately decided he could get used to the feeling.

Alfred’s hand was warm, and his fingers were a little calloused, but it felt natural. As if it was made for him to hold specifically. When he caught Alfred’s expression, he saw that he was looking like a cat who got the cream, and he resisted rolling his eyes.

“Y’know, I thought about touring you around the station before taking you to an undisclosed location for our second date.” Alfred said then, his thumb running circles into the dorsal of Arthur’s hand.

“That so?” Arthur replied, trying to disguise his obvious excitement.

“Yeah, but now that Ems beat me to it, I gotta cook up something else.”

Arthur smirked, glancing in the mirror again to reassure himself the girls were still asleep. “Well, instead of cooking up an idea, you could just cook dinner for me.”

He didn’t know why he suggested such a thing, and he sort of immediately regretted it, because going over to Alfred’s house would probably be a very, very bad idea. And yet, once he saw Alfred’s delighted smile, he knew he couldn’t take back what he said.

“I make a killer baked risotto. It’s gonna blow your mind.”

They didn’t talk much more for the remainder of the drive. Alfred hummed along to a song on the barely audible radio, easily navigating the streets towards the school, and Arthur was struck with the thought Alfred must’ve taken this exact route countless of times already. For some reason, experiencing that same route Alfred usually took towards the school, felt more intimate than it should.

A short while later he pulled up at the school, and Arthur thought his own car seemed much less inviting than it usually did. Reluctantly he unfastened his seat-belt, slowly opening the car door as to not alert the sleeping children.

“Text me?” Alfred asked quietly, raising their hands to press his lips against Arthur’s knuckles.

“Of course.” Arthur smiled and squeezed Alfred’s hand. “Drive safely, love.”

Alfred’s smile shifted into something less sweet and more intense, and his eyes darkened a little. Despite the quickening of his pulse, Arthur smirked and slid his hand out of Alfred’s. He could feel Alfred's eyes follow him as he swiftly exited the car and hurried towards his own. Before entering it, he turned around once more, not surprised to see Alfred leaning over his wheel and still watching him. He waved once and rolled his eyes when Alfred blew him an exaggerated kiss.

On the ride home, he briefly entertained the idea to not take it slow… and responsibly squashed it again the moment he pulled up in front of his own apartment.

Chapter Text

As a child, Arthur had been an introvert. He loved to play by himself and preferred reading books over playing outside. His parents had been worried at first, wanting him to be more like his outgoing brothers.

When Peter was born, he ceased to be the baby of the family. Instead of feeling jealous, Arthur felt relieved: now that his parents had their hands full with raising five Kirkland boys, the smothering stopped.

Suddenly they cherished his quiet manners, and as result they generally gave him more freedom than they did his older brothers. Nowadays, they’d claim that perhaps that freedom was what led Arthur to fall in with a bad crowd.

Arthur blamed the old-fashioned environment he grew up in. When he grew up and realized he wasn’t attracted to the opposite sex, he realized he wasn’t like most people around him – and worse, that most people wouldn’t like him for that.

So, he sought recognition with other kids, that also felt out of place. Unsurprisingly, there were a lot of them.

One thing led to another, and during high school, Arthur picked up a lot of bad habits. It gained him nothing but a bad rep, but at least it finally felt as if he belonged.

Looking back, he supposed he had been a little dramatic at some times, and a right brat at other times. It hadn’t been all bad, and he turned out all right in the end. He cleaned up his act, went to college, and got himself a proper job.

However, one thing he had never quite managed to figure out, was dating.

He knew all about flirting, seducing and sex – but he had never actually dated.

As a teenager, dating had more or less been a synonym  for hooking up. He hadn’t dated his first actual boyfriend either. They simply sort of rolled into their relationship (which, in hindsight, had probably not been a proper by-the-book relationship either).

A second and third boyfriend came and went in the same manner, and once Arthur had moved to the States he had sort of given up.

Either he wasn’t cut out for dating, or he simply hadn’t met the right man yet. He held onto the belief that if the universe wanted him to date, they’d throw him a proper man he’d want to do so with.

Which it now had, and Arthur had fallen hard and fast, and he was past the point of trying to deny it.

Summer was only one more month away, but what was one more month? What was the absolute worst that could happen?

Arthur’s resolve was crumbling faster than a Nature Valley bar.

“Lookin’ mighty cute there.” Alfred drawled underneath his breath, and despite the pleased fluttering of his heartbeat, Arthur scowled at him.

“Workplace.” He reminded him, and Alfred smirked, leaning against Arthur’s desk in a manner that drove him a little mad.

“Wanna play seven minutes in heaven in a nearby janitor’s closet?”

Arthur’s mind did not immediately visualize said janitor’s closet next to his own classroom, or how it was definitely large enough to accommodate two grown men.

“You’re hopeless.” He tried not to smile affectionately when Alfred sniffled with laughter.

“Not what you said the other night.” Alfred reminded him cheekily, and Arthur felt his cheeks warm up.

He of course referred to their second date – which had gone well, all things considered, right up until Arthur had shoved Alfred against the wall because he could no longer keep his hands to himself.

If it had been up to him, it would’ve progressed into something horizontal, but Alfred had responsibly parted from him, saying that he should probably go home, since he wanted to take it slow, right?

Arthur wanted to punch his past self.

“Your nieces are going to start missing their uncle.” He said, nodding over towards the hallway where said girls were still engulfed in their pretend play of being astronauts.

“Yeah, soon they’ll start thinking we’re up to no good, while all we’re doing is talking and kissing.”

“What? We haven’t kissed.”

“It was a clever ploy to get you to think about it.”

He rolled his eyes (little did Alfred know that Arthur was already constantly thinking about it) and allowed himself to smile, before leaning forward on his desk with both hands, looking the firefighter dead in the eye.

It’s not that he minded Alfred’s presence; but he actually did have work to do. Also, Francis was bound to show up after his own class ended, and Arthur much preferred Alfred to be long gone by then.

“Funny. Now run off before I have you make better use of that witty mouth.”

He watched with some satisfaction as Alfred’s smile slipped just a little bit. He might be a master at dating, but Arthur was no stranger to flirting in general. He grinned and let his eyes fall down to Alfred’s general crotch area, before catching his eye again, and Alfred pouted.

“Oh, you’re definitely cruisin’ for a bruisin’, teach.”

“What does that mean?” Meg piped up, having appeared out of nowhere as she was usually wont to do.

“It means that your uncle spends too much time watching old movies.” Arthur said before Alfred could explain. “Have fun at the petting zoo, Meg. You too, Emily!”

Emily shouted back something unintelligible from the hallway, and Meg smiled up at him adorably, grabbing hold of Alfred’s hand.

“See you soon, Arthur!”

“Yeah, Arthur, see you soon.” Alfred said with a promising smirk, and Arthur waved at him dismissively, laughing softly when he heard the girls ask Alfred when he was going to see Arthur and why.

Now that Arthur had decided that he was done playing around, he was ridiculously nervous.

Who was even nervous for their third date? Weren’t people supposed to be most nervous of their first date? Alfred was going to see right through him.

Then again, it wasn’t as if Arthur had been exactly subtle. He’d kindly declined Alfred’s offer to go out for dinner, or a movie, or literally anywhere that would put them in a public place. Instead he’d lured Alfred over to his own place, with the promise of take-out food and a movie they could watch on his couch, snuggled up together.

God, Arthur almost felt like a fraud.

He frowned when his intercom rang about fifteen minutes too early, wondering if perhaps someone else needed something from him. He buzzed them in, and was surprised to see Alfred round the corner towards his door a mere minute later.

His surprise battled harshly with affectionate desire; Alfred simply looked so good all the bloody time, with his wide, easy smiles and his ridiculous bomber jacket.

Alfred came to a halt in front of him, and held out a bottle of wine with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Arthur took it and turned it over in his hands, surprised that Alfred even knew his wines.

“You’re early.” Is what he said, instead of a thank you. Alfred shrugged, taking it in stride.

“I got here even earlier, so I drove around your block for a couple of times until your neighbors started to give me the stink eye.” He admitted, and Arthur snorted. “But if you’re not done fixing yourself up in front of the mirror yet, I can leave and come back later.”

“I see you brought your cheek with you.”

Alfred tilted his head and raised a hand to pat at his own cheek. The mischievous glint in his eyes betrayed that he knew what Arthur had meant, though, and so Arthur reached out to flick at said cheek. It was snatched mid-air, and Alfred grinned as he triumphantly held their hands up between them.

“It’s good to see you.” Alfred said with a sincere grin. “I missed you.”

“You saw me six hours ago.” Arthur admonished, though he couldn’t help but smile at the silliness.

“Semantics.” Alfred said dismissively. “So can I come in and kiss you hello, or do I gotta stay out here?”

The fact that Alfred felt as if he needed to ask permission, made affection burn hotly inside of him. He was pretty sure he’d do almost everything Alfred asked of him, if he asked it like that.

But he couldn’t give in that easily.

“I don’t know, can you?”

“Ugh.” Alfred’s smile dropped and he pouted. “Here I wanted to be romantic, and you pull another teacher line on me.”

“What can I say? I’m a creature of habit.” Arthur confessed, but he tugged Alfred over the threshold anyway, standing up on his tiptoes.

Alfred’s pout immediately morphed into a smile once more and he eagerly leaned down to press their lips together in a chaste kiss. When Arthur tried to retreat, Alfred followed him down for another, firmer kiss, and Arthur swore he could feel his lips tingle.

Instinctively he leaned forward again, reaching up with one hand to grab Alfred’s shoulder and pull him closer, feeling giddy when Alfred wrapped one of his own arms around his waist in retaliation.

However, before anything else could happen, they were interrupted by a dissatisfied sounding yowl.

“Hello to you too, Crumpy.” Alfred said cheerfully after he broke apart from, turning to regard the large brown cat glaring at them from the other end of the hallway.

Crumpet promptly hissed and fled, and Alfred shrugged.

“Great talking to you, buddy! Let’s do it again soon.”

Arthur chuckled and closed the door, awkwardly worming past Alfred and lamenting the fact that his hallway was so narrow in the first place.

“He’ll forever associate you with his fear of heights, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, I’ll win him over eventually.” Alfred said, and Arthur briefly entertained the image of Alfred sitting comfortably on his couch, as if he’d been there for years, with Crumpet happily purring away on his lap.

The image was an unrealistic one merely because of the Crumpet part, but it was still a nice one.

“I haven’t ordered anything yet.” Arthur said as he walked towards the kitchen, leaving Alfred to hang up his jacket. “How does Dim Sum sound? It’s from that new place…”

“Fine by me!” Alfred called back, and Arthur frowned when he realized the voice hadn’t come from the hallway, but from the living room.

Apparently Alfred was snooping around already, then. He shook his head with a smile and grabbed his phone, quickly dialing the restaurant and listing off several of their dishes that he thought they’d like.

In the living room, he heard Crumpet hiss again, followed by Alfred’s complaint of not even having been near him.

Somewhere during dinner, Alfred had managed to inconspicuously grab hold of his hand. He didn’t do anything with it – he simply held it in his own while they ate, and occasionally brushed his thumb over the dorsal of his hand, leaving more tingling skin in his wake.

There was something obnoxiously domestic about the gesture, something disgustingly romantic, and Arthur hadn’t been able to focus on a word Alfred’s been saying for at least five minutes now.

He’s fairly positive that Alfred wasn’t aware. He carried most of the conversation as if it were nothing, and constantly sneaked in flirty smiles and jokes without skipping a beat, each and every one of them aiding in the rapid deteriorating of Arthur’s resolve.

It wasn’t fair. Arthur always had a soft spot for men like Alfred: tall, confident, enthusiastic, maybe a little on the goofy or oblivious side. It was why he’d often went for jocks as a teenager, even though they were usually downright mean or crass.

But Alfred wasn’t – he was sweet, and funny, and he looked at Arthur as if Arthur was the loveliest thing he’d ever seen.

He almost felt bereft when Alfred let go of his hand and averted his eyes, so that he could stand up and move their dirty dishes to the sink.

Predictably, he refused to let Arthur help, and while the temptation to push him against the counter and then sink to his knees was so great it hurt, Arthur remained content with sitting in his seat and ogling Alfred’s back while the man was otherwise occupied.

“This is my kitchen.” Arthur objected, not trying to convince Alfred to let him help as much as he was trying to distract himself.

“Aw sweetheart, you can clean next time.” Alfred teased, throwing him a cheeky smirk over his shoulder. Arthur was torn between wanting to swoon over the American drawl Alfred used when he called him sweetheart, and with the realization that Alfred wanted even more dates.

How long did one typically date before they got down to the, ahem, nasty stuff?

“I’ll give you something to clean.” He murmured under his breath.

“Hmm? You say something?”

That probably wasn’t fair – Arthur had wanted to wait until summer, after all, and Alfred had kindly agreed. He wondered if Alfred would go back on that agreement if Arthur propositioned him right then and there.

 “No.”

What’s the worst that could happen?

Alfred closed the dishwasher and sauntered back over to him, and Arthur quickly got to his feet to tug him over to the living room. Then he had to return, because he forgot to bring them some drinks, and Alfred took the opportunity to snoop around some more.

“How’s the investigation going?” He asked after setting their coffees down, and Alfred hummed.

“So far I’ve found nothing incriminating.” Alfred admitted, standing in front of Arthur’s bookcase, curiously trailing his fingers over the spines of his books. “I don’t even know most of these writers.”

“Yes, well, you are so mercifully free from the ravages of intelligence after all.”

“Me-ow.” Alfred chastised, and Arthur at least had the decency to look bashful – he had to remind himself he wasn’t swapping banter with Francis, who also loved to criticize his choice in literature.

“It’s a reference,” He said in lieu of an explanation. “from a movie I loved as a kid.”

“Ohhh. Do you have it here? We can watch it, if you want.”

He’s not sure if Time Bandits is the ideal movie for a romantic setting, but he didn’t have a copy of the DVD anyway; it was probably collecting dust in his parent’s attic.

“I don’t, but you’d love it. There are firefighters in it, at the end.” He said, sitting down on the couch and watching Alfred wander around his living room some more.

“Aha! So you’ve always had a thing for firefighters, huh?”

“Yes, as a child I obviously watched the movie for the firefighters, and not the dwarves, knights or giants.”

Alfred laughed, his eyes squinting attractively, and Arthur kind of wanted to beckon him over to the couch so that he could climb on top of his lap. As if he read his mind, Alfred cut his snooping short and walked over to the couch, settling down next to him.

“There’s not a lot of pictures.” He mentioned offhandedly, and Arthur furrowed his brows, looking around.

He didn’t have a lot of pictures framed on his walls, no. There were two of his nephews and nieces and a handful of him with his local friends, which they had put into a silly collage for him as a birthday gift once.

“I’ve told you I’m not very close with my family.” He eventually said, hesitantly, not wanting to breach the subject again. Fortunately Alfred only nodded with an agreeable shrug, and so he relaxed again.

“Well, I’ve got nothing. But I’ll uncover the skeletons in your closet eventually.”

“Cupboard.” Arthur corrected, grinning when Alfred made a face. “What did you hope to find?”

“I don’t know, embarrassing kid pictures, classified government documents, alien specimens… you know.”

“Oh, no, you see, I’m not allowed to bring any official documents home with me.”

“I knew it!” Alfred said, pumping his fist in the air, and Arthur bit down on his lower lip to not grin too stupidly.

Alfred saw, and reached out to smooth his thumb over his lower lip, and as if a switch was flicked, Arthur’s amusement was replaced with desire once more. The bastard definitely knew what he was doing too, because he knew that smug smirk on Alfred’s face.

Arthur refused to give in already, though. He liked to have the advantage of the element of surprise, and right now, Alfred was probably expecting him to shuffle closer.

“What was your favorite movie as a kid?”

The question obviously threw him off a bit, but Alfred quickly recovered, leaning back against the couch with an easy smile. “Top Gun.”

“Is that why you wear that silly bomber jacket?” Arthur lied – he didn’t think it was silly at all.

“Yeah and no. My great gramps was a fighter pilot, and I wanted to be just like him. The movie I saw later.”

“It does explain your hero-complex.” Arthur agreed, smirking when Alfred playfully shoved his shoulder. “Why didn’t you become a pilot?”

“I didn’t want to join the army. So after a cop-phase, an astronaut-phase and a surgeon-phase, I settled on the firefighting thing.” Arthur felt himself starting to smile as he imagined a young Alfred play-pretending to be an astronaut, like his nieces had started doing the past few months. “What about you? Always wanted to be a teacher?”

"Oh no," Arthur said with a bit of a chuckle. "For the longest time I thought I’d never leave my part-time library job. But here I am.”

“Of course you worked at a library. I bet you were such a nerd in high school.”

Oh, he had no idea. And while some part of him wanted to prove Alfred wrong, another part didn’t want to bring up the past. “Did you have a thing for nerds, then?”

“Still do.” Alfred confirmed, weaseling closer with a suggestive look about him.

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “Are you calling me a nerd?”

“Well, I mean. You wear pullover sweaters, watch Downton Abbey for fun, and you know the name of every Disney character ever created. So, yeah.” Arthur pursed his lips – he was a kindergarten teacher for heaven’s sake, of course he knew every popular, animated character by name. He only had to see a dozen drawings of them every bloody week. “Also, Ems said you once almost cried when that non-verbal kid in your class told you he wanted you to be his teacher forever.”

“I – I did not almost cry.” Arthur sputtered, feeling his cheeks burn hotly. “She takes after you, you know.”

“We’re both adorable?”

“You’re both brats.”

“I’m telling her you said that.” Alfred said with a pretend gasp, and Arthur rolled his eyes. “Or you could bribe me with another kiss.”

He was almost tempted to decline, simply to be a bother, but he’d set up this entire date because he’d been on that exact mission in the first place. So he reached out and coyly curled his hand around Alfred’s neck, letting his fingers play with the hair at the bottom.

Alfred smiled winningly – confidently – and leaned in, but Arthur leaned back first, giving him a challenging look.

“Now who’s being a brat.” Alfred mumbled right before grabbing onto his elbow and pulling him forward to slant their lips together.

Arthur immediately relaxed, that tingly feeling that appeared whenever Alfred kissed him returning. It did contradictory things to him – it warmed him with affection, but also made him burn hot with want, while also putting him on edge in a weird, not entirely unpleasant way.

Alfred hummed happily when Arthur tilted his head, and pressed his tongue along the flat of his lower lip. He retaliated by opening his mouth and sucking his tongue into his own mouth, effectively turning the sweet kiss into something more intense.

He decided to waste no more time; in a matter of mere seconds, he promptly sat up, slid closer and swung himself on top of Alfred’s lap. Alfred’s hands immediately dropped to his waist, most likely to keep him from falling off, and he sighed when his fingertips got caught on the edge of his sweater.

He could feel a certain hesitance in Alfred’s touches and kisses then, but he didn’t stop, and so Arthur relaxed against him, draping himself over him suggestively.

It’s then that Alfred did break away from him, albeit reluctantly, and Arthur sat back to properly look at him. Alfred’s hands on his waist tightened, as if not wanting him to move away, and it made his skin buzz.

“Uh, what about the movie?” Alfred asked, haltingly, and Arthur felt himself nearly drown in affection – Alfred was giving him a subtle, indiscriminate way out of whatever was happening.

“What about it?” He asked, because he liked to be an asshole from time to time.

He dragged his fingers from the back of Alfred’s neck to his front, to slowly trace down his chest and end at his abdomen. Delightedly, he felt his abdominal muscles react.

“You – “ Alfred began, and Arthur nonchalantly dipped his fingers underneath Alfred’s shirt, brushing his fingertips over bare skin. “Oh. Oh.”

“Okay?” He asked, glancing up at him through his eyelashes; because while he was fine with crossing his own predetermined boundary, he didn’t want to cross any boundary Alfred might have set unknowingly.

The hesitant smile dropped from Alfred’s face, but not in an unpleasant way, and Arthur felt his pulse quicken when he saw his blue eyes darken.

“Definitely okay.” Alfred said lowly, and when he tugged him back, Arthur went all too willingly.

This time, it didn’t start out sweet or chaste. Arthur immediately shoved his tongue inside Alfred’s mouth, positively glowing when Alfred groaned appreciatively in response. Then Alfred’s hands lowered to his ass and squeezed, and he retaliated by pushing his hips down against Alfred’s.

Even with Alfred kissing him as if he were a man starved, Arthur couldn’t stop making noises, though he’d vehemently deny ever making them when this was over. For now, the sighs and moans only seem to spur Alfred on.

After what could’ve been mere seconds or several hours, they parted for breath. Or well, Arthur parted for a breath, and Alfred immediately latched on to his neck, mouthing at his skin as if he were something to be worshiped.

He tangled one of his own hands into Alfred’s hair, squirming approvingly when Alfred’s hands travel to his thighs. He gripped them tightly, and with a start Arthur realized Alfred was about to pick him up to – hopefully – take this somewhere a bit more comfortable.

The mere idea that Alfred was just going to pick him up like that made him shiver with want. He knew the firefighter could probably do it without breaking a sweat, but so far, it’s only something he’d ever fantasized about.

“You like that?” Alfred asked in a gravelly voice that Arthur knew was going to haunt him forever. He tightened his hands around his thighs some more. “You want me to pick you up?”

“Fuck, yes.” He’s cut off when Alfred captured his lips in another messy, open-mouthed kiss, and went completely pliant.

He felt Alfred shuffle forward, and praised whatever deity watched over him, when he suddenly heard a faint beeping noise. He’s not entirely sure what it was, and to be honest he was more than willing to ignore it completely.

Only, Alfred heard it too, and he immediately froze.

And, what was even worse, he slowly pulled back from him.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Alfred said, sounding incredibly irritated, and Arthur leaned back as well, looking at him with confusion. “That’s – that’s my pager.”

“Oh.” Arthur said, intelligibly, processing this piece of information as fast as he could.

If his pager was ringing, that meant that they were calling Alfred in for a call. And Alfred couldn’t simply just ignore such a call, they both knew that.

He slowly climbed from Alfred’s lap, watching as Alfred stood up and rushed towards the hallway, returning with his pager and bomber jacket in his arms several seconds later.

“I’m so, so, so sorry.” Alfred immediately said, looking much like one of his kindergartners before they had a tantrum.

Arthur watched the mess of emotions wash over Alfred’s face – annoyance, lust, but most importantly; anxiety. Immediately, he remembered Alfred telling him about how no one really wanted to date a firefighter, because of their crazy schedules, impromptu calls and their abrupt departures.

As much as he wanted to persuade Alfred to ignore the beeping and stay with him, and as much as he wanted to tear Alfred’s clothes from him right then and there, Arthur forced himself to calm down and smile sweetly.

“Talk about timing, shit.” Alfred grumbled underneath his breath as he pulled his jacket on, and Arthur quickly walked over, smoothing his hands over Alfred’s wrinkled shirt.

“Duty calls.” He quipped, gently tugging Alfred down for a kiss that he hoped would convey exactly how he felt.

The small radio device still beeped incessantly in Alfred’s hand, but his other hand went to cradle Arthur’s cheek, and when they parted, Alfred looked a little star-struck.

“Go and be a hero.” Arthur then teased, patting his chest and secretly mourning the fact that he wouldn’t have the opportunity to drag his tongue over it that night. “And we’ll pick this up later.”

It was the perfect opening for a bad joke or a teasing flirt, but Alfred only smiled with relief, leaning in for another brief peck before leaving him with nothing but a neglected hard-on and a vivid imagination.

Well, he’d had worse nights.

Chapter Text

Arthur had once explained the white bear problem to his students. They hadn’t believed him at first, claiming that they could prove him wrong. Yet every time he would name an animal, he saw their little faces scrunch up with astonishment, as they inevitably imagined that same animal.

It was simple: tell someone not to think about A, and they would think about that A. Tell someone not do B, and they would thinking about doing B so much, that they would be tempted to do B anyway.

So when Alfred texted him the following Tuesday during second recess…

Alfred Jones: don’t freak out

Arthur immediately felt dread fill him. Sure enough, he wasn’t freaking out (yet), but he was already well on his way to doing so, thanks to that one sentence.

What on Earth would possess someone to start a conversation in such a manner, anyway? Why couldn’t he just get to the point right off the bat, so that Arthur wouldn’t have time to brood about it?

Arthur Kirkland: Why? What happened?

He chewed on the tip of his thumb, a nervous habit he’d never quite gotten rid of. Alfred was busy typing, but either he was writing down a ridiculous long story, or he was taking abnormally long. He looked up from the screen briefly, to make sure that the children were still behaving and were still enjoying their recess.

He'd chosen to keep them inside, because it rained a bit, and he didn't want any of them to catch a cold. They didn't much mind, fortunately, occupying themselves in the play areas or with the snacks their parents had packed for them. 

In one of the corners, Emily and Meg were playing with a kitchen set. They giggled among themselves as they stuffed one of the pans full of plastic vegetables, before shoving it into the kitchen set's oven. It didn't quite fit at first, but with some pushing and shoving, Emily managed to slam the door shut with a victorious shout. Arthur wondered how much more abuse the little door could take before it'd unhinge. 

Alfred Jones: so there was this accident this morning

Alfred Jones: and I had to climb the aerial ladder

Alfred Jones: but it was raining and I sort of slipped lol

Arthur threw his head back for a brief second, staring at the ceiling with both worry, annoyance and anger. God save him from idiot men – lol?! He failed to see how this was a laughing matter, especially when he remembered how high that damned ladder had been able to stretch.

He felt his phone buzz with a new text, and before looking at it, he forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down. At least his darling idiot hadn’t died - unless they had phone reception in the hereafter, but he doubted it.

Besides; he couldn't very well freak out, because the children would definitely pick up on it, and they would definitely start to get antsy.

Alfred Jones: anyway so im on my way to the hospital

Alfred Jones: wanna bring me a balloon later?

Alfred Jones: also dont tell the girls :o

As if he was going to tell the girls! Arthur scoffed, having hoped that Alfred would’ve known him better by now.

Idly he wondered whether or not Mr. and Mrs. Williams have been notified of Alfred's accident already. He wouldn't want to overwhelm them by mentioning it at pick up, which would be in half an hour, after all. But before he could ask, he heard what was inevitably going to be the start of a fight if he didn't intervene quickly. 

Typing out a quick affirmative, he pushed his worries and concerns back for now. He tossed his cell back into his drawer and painted on a reassuring smile, before heading over to the squabbling group of kids. 

Arthur very pointedly ignored the shop filled with colorful, ridiculously overpriced get-well balloons when he arrived at the hospital.

Instead, he marched straight up to the reception to politely ask the lady behind it where he could find Alfred Jones’ room. She took her time, looking as if he would rather be somewhere else, and while Arthur definitely sympathized with her (she was probably horribly underpaid and frequently snapped at, after all), he couldn't help but feel a little impatient.

Once she dutifully told him the room number, Arthur quickly thanked her before heading into the direction she vaguely gestured at.

It wasn't difficult to locate Alfred's room once he was on the appropriate floor; there was only one room from which rowdy laughter sounded, and from which giggling nurses left. He realized Alfred must still be in the company of his fellow firemen, and he waited outside for a few seconds, toying with the idea of leaving and coming back later.

However, he had promised Alfred he’d be here around half past three, and he was already a little late.

When one of the nurses walked past him and sent him a knowing look, he steeled himself and entered the room. Almost immediately, he attracted the attention of the handful of firefighters gathered around Alfred, who was lying in a reclined position on a hospital bed.

Upon seeing him, Alfred’s face lit up like a kid who’d been told they were going to Disney World. 

“Artie!” Alfred exclaimed happily, and loudly, and Arthur instantly heard the distinctive slur in his voice. “Hi! Hi, sweetheart!”

He felt his cheeks heat up when Alfred’s teammates snickered among themselves, and settled each of them with a subtle glare. They weren't impressed at all, however, although at least Antonio and Liz smiled at him sympathetically.

“He’s as high as a kite.” Gilbert offered helpfully, as if Arthur hadn’t already figured that one out.

“What happened?” He asked, venturing further into the room and hanging his coat over one of the remaining, vacant chairs.

A quick glance assured him Alfred’s condition wasn’t as bad as he had feared. He wasn’t missing any limbs, nor were any of his limbs wrapped in a cast. Apart from the bandage on his temple, the ice pack against his check and the few scrapes on his bare, lower arms, he looked relatively uninjured.

“He slipped from the aerial ladder.” Antonio said, confirming what Alfred had texted him several hours ago. “He’s got a slight concussion and some bruised ribs, so he should be fine in a week or three.”

“But he’s a big baby.” Mathias continued, grinning widely. “So they doped him up with painkillers anyway.”

“You didn’t bring me a balloon.” Alfred said then, pouting something awful, and Arthur felt only a little bad about it.

“I’ll get you a balloon next time.” He soothed, ignoring Alfred’s grabby hands. “Does he have to stay overnight, then?”

“I don’t think so.” Liz said thoughtfully. “The doctor still has to return with the test results.”

“Can I go home with you?” Alfred slurred sweetly, sending him a winning smile, and Arthur couldn’t help a small smile himself. “We can pick up where we left off last – “

“We most certainly will not.” Arthur quickly interrupted, feeling another flush rise to his face when Gilbert and Mathias laughed knowingly.

Apparently they knew what Alfred meant to say – and well, Alfred had warned him before that it was difficult to keep a secret from his team. Still, that didn’t mean Alfred had to tell them everything, the bastard.

He couldn’t retaliate against Alfred though, what with the poor dear already lying in a hospital bed, and so Arthur looked at the other men with what he hoped was a disappointed frown.

“Don’t you lot have a job to return to?”

Mathias chortled a bit and held up his hands in defense, but Gilbert leered at him. “Actually, I’m on a brea- ow!” He yelped when Liz interrupted him with a subtle, but well-directed elbow in his side.

“He’s right boys, you don’t get paid for standing around and doing nothing. Off you go!”

Arthur vaguely toyed with the idea of going downstairs to purchase Liz a bouquet of flowers.

“Pffff, lame.” Gilbert complained, but he got up from his chair anyway. “See you soon, man.”

“Get well, bro!” Mathias said. “Ring us if you need an escape vehicle.”

Alfred ignored all of them, his eyes still fixed on Arthur and Arthur only. His smile was still dazzling and bright, and Arthur felt affection well up inside of him. 

“Good luck, Arthur.” Antonio said amicably as he passed him, and Arthur nodded at him in lieu of an answer.

“I’ll go let the nurse know you’re taking over.” Liz said pleasantly, leaving the room as well.

“Artieeee, come here, I missed you.” Alfred whined, making grabby hands at him.

Arthur dutifully moved over to the bed, allowing Alfred to grab his hand. Alfred made a triumphant noise as he wrapped his own hand around it, and Arthur smiled, leaning down to gently press his lips against the crown of Alfred’s head. 

“Idiot.” He chastised affectionately, and Alfred pouted again. “You had me worried.”

“Sorry.” Alfred immediately apologized, and Arthur chuckled. “You’re not leaving me now are you?”

“Why on earth would I leave you?” Arthur asked while sitting down on the chair next to him, their hands still laced together. Alfred squeezed his hand tightly; not tight enough for it to hurt, but tight enough to ensure that he stayed put.

“Cos I got hurt,” Alfred explained in a small voice, which, combined with the slurring, sounded positively adorable. “and now you might not want to date me anymore.”

Arthur did the mental math; Alfred had always been a bit hung up on the fact that his career might prevent Arthur from wanting to be with him. And even though Arthur had already proven otherwise more than once, the message still hadn't come across, apparently. They’d have to have a slightly more serious conversation about that later, he decided.

“Nonsense, darling.” He said, soothing his thumb over the dorsal of Alfred’s hand. “You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

“Ha! Darling. That sounds so old-timey. It's nice. You’re nice.” Alfred beamed, and Arthur bit the inside of his cheek to not grin too widely. “And pretty.”

“I’d rather be handsome, but okay.”

“No, pretty is better.” Alfred confided in him. “It’s much, much better. You’re much better. Like how ice cream is much better than broccoli.”

Arthur decided not to try and figure out what he meant with that. He'd never been high on painkillers in the hospital before, but he'd gotten high once or twice in his youth. He was all too aware that the brain could not properly translate its thoughts into speech, and that Alfred did not know this. Thus he simply nodded along as if he understood, while Alfred continued rambling about things that were better than other things.  

He leaned back in his chair a bit when he heard someone enter the room, and managed to gently pry his hand out of Alfred’s when the newcomer distracted him from Arthur.

A man in a white coat approached them, holding a clip board in his hands that he was absentmindedly paging through. Behind him was Liz, who immediately went to grab her bag and coat from the chair she previously occupied.

“Mr. Jones, how are we feeling?” The doctor said politely, and Alfred grinned up at the man while giving him a thumb's up. “Mr. Kirkland, I presume?” He then asked, and Arthur quickly stood from his chair, shaking his hand while the doctor introduced himself in turn.

“He’s my boyfriend.” Alfred whispered, a tad too loudly. “I was just telling him that he’s much sweeter than s’mores.”

The doctor smiled lightly, despite also looking a little exasperated. “Is he, now?” He asked anyway, indulging his patient while leafing through one last paper on his clip board.

“Absolutely. Hmm. I love him.”

In his fight to force down the embarrassed, shocked noise that threatened to escape him, Arthur made a bit of a snorting noise instead. When every occupant in the room turned their eyes towards him, he quickly raised his hand, pretending he was clearing his throat instead. 

Liz smirked knowingly and Arthur knew his face was probably as red as a firetruck, but he powered through it, meeting her eyes with a cool expression. The doctor, at least, seemed to sympathize with him and quickly changed the subject.

“Your results came back fine, Mr. Jones. With some rest, your ribs and head should be better within the month. I'd recommend you to refrain from any intense exercise until then, and you have to come back in for a check up before you can get back to work."

Judging by the confused expression on Alfred's face, Arthur was pretty sure that none of this was registering, but he'd probably hear it again sometime later.

"If you promise to take it easy, I see no reason for you to stay the night. We’ve called your brother, he’ll be here to pick you up at six.” He scribbled something on a paper. “The nurse at the front desk will give you your prescription when you check out."

“Yay, Mattie is coming.” Alfred chirped, as if it was the only thing he actually processed.

“He is. I'll see you in a bit, Mr. Jones.” The doctor said with a polite smile, before nodding towards Arthur and Liz. “Mr. Kirkland, Miss Héderváry.”

“I should be heading back.” Liz said hesitantly once the doctor left. “I’m technically still on duty. Are you going to be okay? You can leave, if you want. He’ll probably fall asleep soon.”

“I’ll be fine.” Arthur reassured her, ignoring Alfred’s abrupt plea for him not to leave.

She smiled and shrugged her coat on, before patting Alfred on the cheek and telling him to be good. Once she left, Arthur retrieved his bag and sat back down at the chair near Alfred. 

“I’m so sorry for being hurt.” Alfred suddenly gasped, as if he realized something, and Arthur tilted his head. “Now we can’t go out this weekend.”

Arthur chuckled, shaking his head. “No, but we could stay in. It’ll be fine. Get some rest, won’t you?”

Alfred pursed his lips, murmuring several protests that Arthur didn’t acknowledge. Eventually, he did fall asleep, and Arthur spent a good fifteen minutes simply looking at him before reaching into his bag; he might as well get some work done while he was here.

When Alfred woke up, the painkillers had worn off somewhat, and he was a lot less enthusiastic and a lot more subdued. Still, upon seeing Arthur still at his bedside, he smiled happily, even though he then immediately winced and grabbed his head.

“I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.” He complained, slowly moving and wincing again when it jostled his hurt ribs. “Shit.”

“Correction: you fell of a truck.” Arthur corrected absentmindedly, still scribbling down notes on his students. The last parent-teacher night was in only two weeks, and by now, he had only managed to make a dent in the amount of reports he'd have to write on the developments of his kindergartners that year.

Some of them were done quickly, but others required a bit more tact, and he'd have to word some of his advice carefully to prevent a parent from feeling offended or guilty.

“Hardy-har.” Alfred groaned when he finally settled again. Without looking up, Arthur handed him back the ice pack, and Alfred sighed when he pressed it against his ribs again. “I think this hurts more than that time I broke my wrist.”

“Be glad that you didn’t break anything this time.” Arthur reminded him, snapping his notebook closed and looking up at him with stern, but fond eyes. “Do you want something to drink or eat?”

Alfred grimaced at that, most likely still feeling a little nauseous. He'd managed not to throw up yet, despite his concussion, but it was obvious that he was queasy and thus the bucket remained close to his bed. “No, thanks.”

Arthur nodded and looked at the clock; it was almost six, which would mean Matthew would be here soon. Earlier that day, when Matthew had come to pick up the girls, he'd looked a little distracted, but he hadn't said anything of note. He assumed that Matthew had known of Alfred's accident, but he could've assumed wrong, and so Arthur didn't tell him that he knew as well. 

It would have probably also been a little odd for him to tell Matthew that he would visit Alfred in the hospital, because - 

"It's cute that you're nervous." Alfred suddenly teased, and Arthur frowned at him.

"I'm not nervous."

"You're totally nervous."

Arthur huffed, using perhaps a bit more force than necessary when he shoved his notebook back into his bag. Of course he was a little nervous. He had intended to leave right before Matthew would show up, so that there wouldn't be any untimely, awkward revelations taking place. 

However, once he had shared this plan with Alfred, the firefighter had waved his plan off with a laugh. Apparently, Matthew already knew of their involvement - and had known since their first date. Arthur wasn't as nervous as he was embarrassed; all this time Matthew had known that Arthur was dating his brother, and all this time, Arthur had been skillfully pretending nothing was going on.

“I can’t believe you told him.” 

Alfred smiled wryly. “You try keeping a secret from your twin brother.”

Arthur briefly thought of his own brothers – they weren’t his twins, but they'd all been close in age. Arthur had always been able to keep secrets from them, though. The only one who had even been perceptive enough to know when Arthur was hiding something, had been Dylan, and even he had never bothered to find out what that something was.

“And it's not as if he minds.” Alfred quickly continued, obviously trying to reassure him. "He likes you. He even said you're way out of my league!""

"He's right." Arthur replied snobbishly, cracking a small smile when Alfred gasped with mock offense. "I just wish you'd have told me earlier."

"I'm sorry." Alfred said, for the third time that day, and he sounded just as earnest as he did when he was doped up on painkillers. "But you can't be angry at me anymore, because I'm hurt."

Arthur released a long-suffering sigh, swatting at Alfred's hand when the man reached out to, presumably, pinch his arm. 

"Ow!" Alfred immediately exclaimed, cradling his arm, even though there was nothing wrong with said arm. 

"You probably deserved it. What have you done this time, Al?" Someone said behind them, and Arthur almost startled with surprise. He turned in his chair to see Matthew entering the room. Upon seeing Arthur, he smiled pleasantly, as if he had expected him to be here. "Hey, Arthur."

“Mr. Williams.” Arthur greeted politely, and Alfred snorted at the formality.

Both Matthew and Arthur were at a loss for words after that, and as a result, a rather awkward silence followed. Alfred looked as if he was enjoying it, at least, judging by the smirk on his face. Arthur glared at him, and decided to throw him under the bus.

“He fell of an aerial ladder.”

“Hey!” Alfred’s smirk immediately turned into a frown. “Tattletale.”

Matthew sighed and walked further into the room, coming to a halt at the foot of Alfred’s bed. He grabbed the clip board attached to it and eyed it briefly, before allowing it to flop back against the bed-frame. “I hate to admit it, but it’s not nearly the stupidest thing that’s ever landed him in a hospital.”

“Excuse me – “

“One time, while trying to impress the twins, he tried to jump over the couch. Only his foot got stuck on a quilt, and he bashed his head into the wall. Then he crashed into the glass side table next to it.”

“Oh dear.” Arthur said, a bit horrified at the scenario his imagination immediately offered, but also a bit amused when Alfred glared at his brother. “So this is not his first brain injury.”

“Can’t you tell?” Matthew said dryly, and Arthur allowed himself to chuckle when Alfred threw his ice pack at Matthew, who caught it expertly.

“Ow,” Alfred immediately said afterwards. He clutched his side and pouted, but Arthur suspected he was laying it on a little thick this time. “stop making fun of your injured brother, bro.”

“Stop giving me reasons to do so, bro.” Matthew returned without skipping a beat, tossing the ice pack back onto his lap.

Arthur watched them bicker a bit more with fondness; it was obvious that they were very close, and for a brief moment, Arthur lamented his relationship (or rather, lack thereof) with his own brothers.

“Thank you for staying with him, Arthur.” Matthew eventually said, turning back towards him. “You didn’t have to.”

“It wasn’t a problem.” Arthur quickly reassured, standing up and grabbing his coat and bag. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

He hesitated; it felt unnatural to simply turn around and leave the room with only a polite goodbye. Alfred looked up at him expectantly too, and Matthew was watching him with barely hidden amusement, and Arthur was starting to feel a little bit like a carnival attraction.

Eventually Alfred sighed dramatically. “Mattie, my boyfriend won't kiss me goodbye if you're watching. Turn around already."

At that, Matthew grinned: it was a kind of grin he had never seen on the man before, but at the same time, it was a grin he knew intimately well. He was instantly reminded that Matthew was, in fact, Alfred's twin, and he felt a little betrayed by the usually pleasant and polite man. 

"Don't mind me." Matthew said casually. "I'll go and check you out. See you tomorrow, Arthur." Arthur frowned, trying to remember why they would see each other tomorrow, before abruptly remembering that Matthew would of course be dropping the girls of at school the next morning. "At school." Matthew helpfully added, obviously having seen the confusion on his face. 

"Yes, of course." Arthur quickly said. 

Matthew shot Alfred another look, one that was clearly meant to only be understood by one's own brother, and then walked out of the room, leaving them alone. 

Once he was out of sight, Arthur whirled back towards Alfred to glare down at him. "You're insufferable."

“Part of my charm, remember?” Alfred replied cheekily, while also tilting his head up towards him. 

Arthur rolled his eyes and stomped forward, leaning down. He might be embarrassed and a little annoyed, but he was also secretly endeared by the fact that Alfred called him his boyfriend as publicly as he did – and in front of his brother, too.

He intended to only give him a brief kiss, but Alfred had other ideas: he grabbed his arms and pulled him closer. Unfortunately, the sudden movement caused Arthur to stumble a little. To prevent himself from falling right on top of Alfred, he had to put a hand down; but instead of putting it down on the bed, he ended up putting it on Alfred's shoulder. 

The sudden shove caused him to twist a bit, and he hissed. Arthur quickly leaned back, checking him over briefly before reaching out to flick his fingers against his bicep. "That one's on you."

"Worth it, though." Alfred replied through gritted teeth, offering him a somewhat forced smile. "Talk later?"

“Of course.” He said, leaning in to give him one more brief peck. Having learned, Alfred didn't tug him closer again. “Take it easy.”

“I’ll try.” Alfred replied cheerfully. 

The moment he exited his car and entered his building, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He waited until he was actually inside his apartment to retrieve it from his pocket, unlocking the screen while simultaneously locking his front door. 

Crumpet sidled up to rub himself against his legs, and Arthur spared a second to lean down and scratch him behind the ears. Predictably, Crumpet purred adoringly for one second, before promptly swatting at his hand and running away like a madman. 

Arthur straightened and opened up his unread messages - there were several from Francis, one from his sister in law, and one from Alfred. He opened that one first. 

Alfred Jones: mattie says you gotta come over for dinner sometime ;)

A sarcastic, somewhat panicked huff of laughter escaped him – he could just imagine himself sitting at the Williams dinner table, with not only Alfred and his brother, but also Marianne and the girls.

Since Matthew clearly knew of their involvement, he had no reason to think Marianne did not know as well. It made perfect sense even - he had already thought it was odd that she no longer criticized him as often as she used to do. Once she even complimented him, while also saying that the girls looked up to him, and Arthur had been a little flabbergasted. 

Now he realized that, perhaps, she had been trying to mend bridges before it'd be forced to happen. 

However, while Matthew and Marianne Williams obviously knew, the girls were still very much left in the dark. They had to be; otherwise he would've surely heard about it in class. Children their age hardly ever kept a secret like that, after all. 

Especially since Emily was beginning to harbor a childlike crush on him, the sort that only a five year old was capable of having.

It was disgustingly adorable, of course, also because Emily wasn't bashful about it at all - no, she was confident that she would marry Arthur when she grew up. Arthur of course didn't encourage such claims, but he wasn't about to break her heart so short before summer break either, so usually he simply diverted the subject. As always, it would blow over the moment school ended - he'd been on the end of such attentions before. 

Still, Emily's affections for him was exactly why he was not looking forward to telling her that he was off the market, and that he had been taken off that market by her own uncle.

Arthur Kirkland: I’d rather not

Alfred Jones: rude :(

Arthur Kirkland: But of course I will. After you tell Emily and Meg, of course.

Alfred Jones: in that case we should wait until im no longer injured lol

He was, however, looking forward to having Alfred do it in his stead.

Chapter Text

The town Arthur lived in wasn’t as small as the town he grew up in, but it was still small enough that he ran into familiar faces almost every day.

Usually it happened at the grocery store, the doctor’s or at any family friendly restaurant. Former students, current students, their families, co-workers and simply friends: almost everywhere he went, he would spot someone belonging to at least one of these categories.

The small funfair that traveled through their town every year was no exception. It wasn’t big, but it had a few carnival attractions, a few food trucks and some live music.

The whole ordeal was mostly catered to kids, which was why Arthur hadn’t planned on going, at first. However, after work that Friday afternoon, Francis had managed to cajole him into going anyway.

By cajoling, he of course meant that Francis had challenged him to a friendly round of ‘who can win the most games?’ right in front of his students; and well, Arthur had to accept, lest his pride got damaged by an annoying Frenchman and a bunch of five-year-olds.

Irritatingly enough, Francis was annoyingly good at the claw-grabbers. Surprisingly enough, Arthur proved triumphant at the ball-in-a-globe games.

Before they could determine the actual winner at the tin can alley, Arthur had been ambushed by a group of kindergartners, and Francis had strayed from his side. After diligently directing each child back to their guardians, Arthur found Francis at the bar, flirting with a vendor that appeared off-duty, and Arthur had left him to it.

He wasn’t too annoyed about being stood up like that after all – he’d hardly been lonely, what with five-year-olds constantly sniffing him out like dogs. As he was wont to do, he indulged each and every one of them, gasping when they showed him their prizes, and giving away his own tickets to the kids who had yet to win anything.

Their parents would make small-talk with him before encouraging their kid to let Arthur go, and Arthur would be left alone again, wandering around to wait for the next kid to sniff him out.

Just as he was entertaining the idea of calling it a night, something small crashed into his legs again, and by now he was so used to it, that he didn’t even stumble or sway.

“Arthur! Arthur!”

Looking down, he was met with Emily’s toothy grin. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his legs, and her mouth was covered with what he hoped was chocolate. There was also a tooth missing, that hadn’t been missing several hours earlier.

“Look Arthur! Look! I lost a tooth!” She said, releasing him in order to point at her mouth, pressing her tongue against the gap for good measure.

Arthur leaned down, pretending to inspect it more closely. “So you did! Will you leave it underneath your pillow for the tooth fairy?”

“Yeah! It was a suuuuper big one. I’ll be rich!” She bounced back and forth on her feet excitedly, and Arthur straightened again with a smile.

“Are you saving up for something special?”

“Yeah! Uncle Al says if we can save five bucks, he’ll double it and buy us the new Pokémon game!”

Arthur doubted such a game, which was probably a game for a console, was only ten dollars, but wasn’t going to mention it.

He looked up, curious to Meg’s whereabouts and whether or not Emily had abandoned her guardian for the night. As if on cue, Meg skipped over to him, a half-eaten toffee apple clutched in her hand.

Behind her were both her father and uncle; Matthew was holding Meg’s stuffed bear under one arm, while listening to something Alfred was saying. Both brothers saw Arthur at the same time, and Arthur quickly looked down at Meg, ignoring the fluttering of his heartbeat when Alfred smiled brightly.

“Hello Meg! Are you also missing any teeth?”

Meg quickly shook her head and bared her teeth at him; sure enough, all her teeth were still in place.

“One’s a little bit loose though. Look!” She pushed her tongue against one of her front teeth, and it wobbled dangerously. “Maman wants to pull it out, but papa won’t let her.”

Arthur resisted the urge to snort at the mental image that his imagination provided him with.

“Did you two know a white shark can lose up to twenty teeth a week?”

“What! No way!” Emily exclaimed. “What happens when he loses all his tooths? How does he eat?”

“Teeth, dear. And they grow new ones, of course.”

“That’s horrifying.” Alfred quipped, as both he and his brother arrived at the scene.

Matthew looked down at his girls expectantly. “Girls, you knew this. Remember when we went searching for shark teeth on the beach last summer?”

The girls simultaneously shook their heads and Matthew sighed exasperatedly. Arthur could definitely remember the girls telling him about that summer at the start of their year, but he decided not to mention it; he was a bit too distracted by Alfred anyway.

It’s only been six bloody days since they last saw each other, but Arthur had missed him something terrible.

“Hello, Arthur.” Matthew greeted, smiling politely at him while giving Meg her bear back. “Having fun? Are you here alone?”

“I wasn’t at first.” Arthur replied, grinning lightly when Alfred frowned and looked around accusingly. “My date’s off flirting with one of the vendors.”

Matthew looked  a little confused, but Alfred seemed to understand immediately, and he chuckled under his breath.

“Are you on a date?” Emily said, distaste coloring her voice. “Ewww, gross!”

“You’re just jealous because you want to be on a date with Arthur.” Meg said matter-of-factly. Emily gasped and whirled around, but Meg had already strategically moved over to hide behind Matthew’s legs.

Arthur laughed, leaning forward a bit to catch Emily’s eye again. Her cheeks had flushed red, with what was most likely embarrassment, and her lip wobbled a bit.

“I would love to have lunch with you next Monday on the playground, Emily.”

“Really?” Emily asked doubtfully, yet hopefully.  

“Of course. I’ll even make scones.” Behind Emily, Alfred suddenly started coughing, and Arthur spared him a glare.

“I suppose that would be okay.” Emily said haughtily, but her lip had stopped wobbling, and so the crisis was averted.

“Did you win anything, Arthur?” Meg asked then, the words coming out muffled as she was simultaneously nibbling on her apple.

Arthur held out his empty hands; he’d given away all his toys and tickets by now, but he probably shouldn’t mention that. “If I do, I’ll be sure to bring my spoils to class.”

“Daddy’s gonna win us a pony!”

“Daddy is going to try.” Matthew said flatly, but it went ignored by the girls.

Emily was still telling him about the pony, when out of the corner of his eye he could see Alfred elbowing Matthew gently. They exchanged a meaningful, silent look, before they both looked at Arthur, and Arthur made sure to give them a discreet scowl in return.

“Come on girls, why don’t you show your old man how to fish, huh? We might even win something for your mom.” Matthew said subtly, gently coercing both girls towards the fishing pond nearby.

They yelled their goodbyes to Arthur before rushing over to the stand, and Matthew said a much quieter goodbye before following them. Alfred, predictably, stayed behind, smiling innocently at Arthur.

“Been a while.” Alfred said softly, once his family was out of hearing range. “Missed you.”

Arthur smiled - it almost physically hurt to not move over and steal a kiss, but he managed to restrain himself. However, he did reach out to subtly brush his hand over Alfred’s own, in a way that said he very much shared the sentiment.

Then he eyed Alfred’s torso; last time he’d seen it bare, it had still been covered in ugly, purplish bruises, and Alfred had still winced at every step he took or so. “How was your check up?”

“Doc says I’m almost good to go back to work.” Alfred said cheerfully. “The concussion’s as good as gone, but the ribs are still a bit tender. So I’m still stuck at the station for now.”

“I’m sure Liz is thrilled.”

“Hey, she adores me, thank you very much.” Alfred defended with a bit of a pout, and Arthur bit down on his lip to keep from grinning to widely. “But I can’t wait to get back out there again.”

Arthur didn’t exactly share that sentiment, but he knew it would be wise not to voice it. Alfred’s job came with the necessary risks, and while Arthur would rather have Alfred out of harm’s way, he acknowledged that his job made him happy – and above anything else, Arthur wanted Alfred to be happy.

“If I’d known you’d be into this kinda thing, I would’ve asked you to tag along.” Alfred said, tactfully changing subjects, and Arthur rolled his eyes.

“So that I could third-wheel you and your brother, instead of my friend?”

“I meant on a date, smart-ass.”

“Name-calling already? My, you sure know how to woo a man.”

Alfred’s expression soured a little, and Arthur smirked. “All right, joker. Wanna third-wheel it together? I’ll win you a toy.”

No one had ever tried to win him a toy before, but then again, Arthur had never gone on a date to a place where one could win one’s date a toy. And despite the offer being a bit silly (it was ridiculously easy to win a toy on a fair for children, after all), Arthur was helpless against the onslaught of affection he felt for the man in front of him.

 "Very well Mr. Jones, but it better be a very nice toy."

Alfred grinned widely and softly bumped shoulders with him. "The nicest, teach! I've seen one that reminded me of you. Follow me."

He quickly glanced back at Francis’ location, but his friend was still occupied and would therefore not miss his presence. He’d have to shoot him a text later, but for now, Arthur quickly followed after Alfred.

"I'm a bit of a celebrity here." Alfred confided in him as they walked and Arthur snorted. "No really! I have a lot of toys to win, you know how it is."

"To uphold your status as favorite uncle, I imagine."

"Absolutely! You’d think that’d be easy as their only uncle, but you’d be surprised." Alfred said with a huff of laughter. “Also, it helps to have a stack of stuffed toys at the fire station, just in case.”

Arthur could just imagine Alfred doling out stuffed toys to distraught children after accidents or fires, and he felt his heart swell a little more. He was so content with this little daydream that he accidentally missed out on Alfred’s further bragging, but he snapped out of it once they reached their destination.

The attraction they arrived at was… not exactly what he had expected, if he had to be honest.

“A ring toss?” Arthur asked neutrally, and Alfred shrugged.

“I would’ve chosen the high striker,” Ah, that was more like it. “but I’m afraid I’ll have to sit that one out this year, considering how banged up I am.”

“What a convenient excuse.”

“Hey,” Alfred said, taking Arthur’s bait. “I’ll have you know I always beat the high-striker.”

“I’m sure you do.” Arthur continued, smiling teasingly. “Somehow I doubt you would ever miss out on an opportunity to show off.”

“Nothing wrong with flexing these guns every now and then.” Alfred countered cheekily, flexing his arm – and even though Arthur couldn’t actually see the bulge of his bicep due to his jacket, he certainly remembered how it what it’d look like.

“God save me from brawny dorks.” He said fondly, his cheeks warming a bit when Alfred blew him a kiss. “Go on then, win me a toy.”

Alfred saluted him and headed over to the counter, smiling charmingly at the girl behind it as he exchanged some bills with her for rings. The girl giggled and twirled a finger in her hair, and when Alfred threw a taunting look over his shoulder, Arthur made sure to give him an unimpressed one in return.

The cardboard cacti that the rings were supposed to be tossed onto moved around a bit, and the rings looked like they were made from plastic, meaning that it would probably be tough to toss all five of them onto the target. Unsurprising, really, since games like this were often set up for the player to lose, after all –

With a casual flick of his wrist, Alfred tossed the ring right onto the cactus in the middle, and it twirled around before coming to a stop at its bottom.

Arthur frowned and moved to stand next to him at the counter, purposefully ignoring the vendor’s questioning glance.

"Beginner's luck." He accused, but Alfred simply shrugged – and with another flick of his wrist, he did it again.

“Third time’s a charm.” Alfred said, and Arthur pursed his lips, a bit annoyed by his boyfriend’s blase attitude. “If I get all five around them, will you give me a kiss?”

At that, the girl behind the counter frowned and pouted, and Arthur hated to admit that the selfish part of him was positively glowing with satisfaction.

“Deal.” Arthur acquiesced, forcing himself to not start grinning mischievously when Alfred looked at him with gleeful surprise.

Arthur patiently waited, watching Alfred toss a third and fourth ring around the cacti targets. As expected, Alfred made a show of aiming the fifth one, sneaking a leer over at Arthur while he did so. But just as he tossed it, Arthur shifted and bumped his hip into Alfred’s, and the ring promptly bounced on the side of the cactus, ending up on the floor with a dull, sad little sound.

They both looked at it, Arthur with a grin and Alfred with a frown.

“You sabotaged me.” Alfred accused, turning around to (try and) glare at him. “And your own prize!”

“Oh, I didn’t.” Arthur easily corrected, nodding at the sign. “You secured my prize after three rings. You, however, won’t be getting any prize.”

“Party-pooper.”

“Pay up, buttercup.”

Alfred laughed and turned back to the vendor, exaggeratedly leaning over the counter to surreptitiously point at the prize he wanted. The girl however was severely unimpressed with his antics, now that she knew he wasn’t single, and she handed him the stuffed toy without further ado, which Alfred then proudly presented to him.

It was a ridiculously round and rather fat looking cat toy. Arthur took it and turned it over in his hands, wondering why this absurdity reminded Alfred of – oh.

"Very funny."

"I could throw it in a tree and then get it for ya."

“Is that the time?” Arthur suddenly said, looking at his watch-less wrist. “I should be home before I miss my curfew.”

He made a faux-movement in which he appeared to turn away, and Alfred chortled, quickly grabbing his elbow and pulling him back. “Nooo, Artie, I’m sorry!”

"I ought to put you in the corner.” Arthur grumbled harmlessly, and Alfred tilted his head with a thoughtful expression.

"Not over your knee? I'm disappointed."

"Goodbye."

Alfred laughed again, keeping a firm grip on Arthur’s elbow and thus preventing him from slipping away. He did wriggle his elbow a bit just to see how easily he could escape, and Alfred retaliated by tugging him a bit closer.

He sighed as Alfred playfully smirked down at him, and was again struck with the desire to lean up and kiss him.

“Told you I’d win you a nice toy. Are you impressed?” Alfred teased.

“If it helps you sleep at night.” He replied, refusing to give in, and Alfred squeezed his elbow before letting go. Arthur nodded at another stall. “How about some archery? Loser buys drinks.”

“Oh, you’re on.”

Unfortunately for Alfred, Arthur had taken archery classes as a kid, and he completely wiped the floor with him.

For a five-year old, the end of a school year was both exciting and frightening.

The prospect of sunny holidays with family, and of endless sleepovers and playdates with friends, filled the children with understandable excitement. But the loss of routine, of habit and of the environment they had learned was a safe haven, made these summers absolutely terrifying as well.

After several years of experience, Arthur knew how excited and emotional his students were during their last week. It’s why he always did away with subjects that required too much energy, like math. Instead, he had them write stories, read books, act out silly little plays. He extended their playtime and recesses, in an attempt to let them say goodbye to the classroom at their own pace.

Arthur supposed he too shared their sadness about the whole ordeal, albeit perhaps not to the same extent.

For him, the end of a school year felt bittersweet. Of course he looked forward to some well-deserved time off himself, but he was never quite prepared for the nostalgic, utterly sad feeling of semi-permanently saying goodbye to his little students.

Despite knowing better, he always managed to grow so horribly attached to the kids. How could he not, after months of teaching them, consoling them, encouraging them?

Of course, it wasn’t as if he would never see them again. But the funny thing with children was, that once you are out of their sight, you are often out of their heart. They would get a new teacher next year, and that new teacher will become their new ‘favorite person’, and Arthur would be only be a fond memory.

Well, perhaps that was a little dramatic. Arthur was, after all, still very much hugged and high-fived by his older students. And while his students would get a new teacher, Arthur would get new students to grow attached to.

It didn’t make saying goodbye any easier, though.

They’d just concluded the ‘farewell-party’, which included a big event in the auditorium with the other kindergarten classes. On the way back to their classroom, some kids chattered enthusiastically to each other, whilst others were uncharacteristically silent.

The moment he got them all seated again, it turned into a bit of a chaos. Parents and other guardians arrived to pick up their kids, and each and every one of them wanted to talk with Arthur a bit more about some leftover worries or concerns they had.

He patiently answered their questions, doing his best to reassure them while simultaneously comforting the children that suddenly realized that they wouldn’t be seeing him for a long time. Every sniff and every whine tugged at his heart something awful, and eventually Arthur was starting to feel a bit wet behind the eyes himself.

One by one, they slowly filtered out. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Matthew and Alfred entertaining the twins at their tables, and he was pretty sure that they meant to leave last, so he tried to ignore them while saying goodbye to all the others.

It took surprisingly long to say goodbye to Lovino, and surprisingly short to say goodbye to Feliciano, and then the Williams family was the only one left in the room.

“Are you girls ready for summer?” Arthur asked kindly as he walked over to crouch down next to their tables.

Surprisingly, neither girl seemed particularly distraught, and he was only a little offended by that.

“Yeah!” Emily said happily, her feet swinging back and forth underneath her table. “We’re gonna go to the beach, and the zoo, and the pool, and Disneyland, and Canada!”

“That sounds like it will be very fun.” Arthur said indulgently, nodding along. “I’m sure you two will have a great time!”

Meg and Emily both eyed him oddly then, as if he was saying something weird. Behind them, Matthew was looking a little exasperated, and Alfred was grinning as if he had just done something naughty but nice.

“But aren’t you coming with us?” Meg asked in a small voice, as if she were unsure of something. Arthur hesitated; what an odd question –  

“Yeah,” Emily continued, looking between him and Alfred. “Uncle Al said that since you’re his boyfriend now, you’ll come to Disneyland too.”

“Dudes! Not cool, you were supposed to wait and let me tell Arthur first!”

Oh. Oh, that prat.

Arthur pushed himself back up to his feet and reached over to flick Alfred on his shoulder. “You twat, you told them without letting me know?” He accused, momentarily forgetting that both the kids and Matthew were still very much present.

“Ohhh Arthur, you said a bad word!”

“All right girls, let’s go grab your coats.” Matthew tactfully intervened, shepherding the kids from their tables. “Say goodbye and thank you to Arthur.”

Both Meg and Emily looked a little alarmed. “But uncle Al said – ”

“Stop snitching on me, you little monsters!”

Instead of following their father, both girls rushed over to Arthur instead, wrapping their little arms around his legs. When he heard the first sniffle, the betrayal left Arthur, and he gently tugged them off of him, so that he could crouch down to their level again.

“We don’t really have to say goodbye, do we, Arthur?” Emily said with a bit of a pout, and Meg sniffled a little louder.

Arthur resisted the urge to glare up at Alfred when he heard his boyfriend chuckle under his breath, and instead grabbed a hand from each girl, holding it in his own.

“No, we don’t, dears.” He reassured gently. “I’m sure I’ll see you two real soon.”

“Really?”

“Have I ever lied to you?” He teased, and Meg smiled through her sniffles. “How could I go a whole summer without my two favorite girls, huh?”

Emily grinned dazzlingly bright, reminding him of Alfred for a hot second, and even Meg cracked a bright smile. Then they rushed forward to hug him at the same time, and he nearly tumbled backwards by the mere force of it.

“Come on girls,” Matthew said softly, urging the girls to follow him again. “If we head outside now, you might be able to play with the other kids for a little while more.”

That was all the incentive the twins needed, and they abruptly let go of Arthur, earlier sentimentalism forgotten. As they rushed towards the hallway, Arthur once again got back on his feet, smiling politely as he exchanged his goodbyes with Matthew.

The moment they left the classroom, Alfred sidled up to his side again. He leaned against Emily’s desk and threw him a charming, knowing smile.

“So hey, guess what! I told the girls.”

Arthur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re not cute.” He informed him, hoping that at least he sounded a bit more annoyed than he actually felt.

“You’re cute enough for the both of us.” Alfred countered, leaning forward a bit to pat at his cheek, but Arthur swatted his hand away before he could. “Even though you're lookin’ a little constipated.”

“I’m not - ” Arthur abruptly stopped when he heard his voice break unattractively, and he felt his face heat up when Alfred laughed. “You’re a bully, Mr. Jones.”

Glancing back over to the hallway, he could see Matthew and the girls through the open door. Meg was waiting patiently at her father’s side while Emily was struggling to put her coat on while jumping up and down.

All right, so maybe he was a little sad. Like he said before: the ending of a school year was bittersweet for him, too. It simultaneously warmed him and saddened him, that his students seemed so reluctant to say goodbye to him. He supposed that it was a bit of a relief that Alfred had already told the girls though; at least that meant he hadn’t had to deal with their teary goodbyes.

Alfred reached out to brush his hand against his arm, and he snapped out of his thoughts, looking back over to see his boyfriend looking at him with a surprisingly fond expression.

“You okay?”

Arthur hated that question – it always made him even more sad, when he was already feeling sad. Refusing to acknowledge it, however, he bit down on his cheek and nodded. “You could’ve given me a head’s  up, you know.”

 Alfred’s smile turned a bit sheepish, and he shrugged. “Yeah, I know. We only just told them, because Meg started to panic about not being able to see you in summer. Actually, I’m still not sure if they really understand, but at least now they won’t be surprised when you show up for dinner.”

“Or when I come with to Disneyland?” He said, flatly, and Alfred chuckled.

“Yeah, you’re not getting out of that one. But hey, we’ll be sharing a room, and I’ll win you another toy.” Arthur rolled his eyes, and when Alfred tugged him a bit closer by his elbow, he obediently followed.

“Ew, gross!” Emily almost immediately screeched, and Arthur immediately tried to pull back, but Alfred wouldn’t let him.

“Scram, pipsqueak! I’m about to catch your teacher’s cooties!”

Arthur tactfully hid his face in Alfred’s shoulder as he heard Emily make gagging noises, while Matthew sternly told his daughters to go outside. A few seconds later, the swing doors towards the main hallway swung shut, immediately muting the rambunctious Williams twins.

“Cooties? Are you ten?”

“Hey, kissing my teacher has always been on my bucket list, get off my back.”

Despite his embarrassment, Arthur didn’t pull away when Alfred angled his head down to meet his lips in a brief, sweet kiss. As he was wont to do, it wasn’t long until Alfred sneaked a hand to his ass, and before it could get inappropriate, Arthur swatted his hands away again and stepped back.

“So, wanna celebrate the end of the year tonight?” Alfred then asked, suggestively, and Arthur, who had been on his way to his desk to finish cleaning up, halted with a thoughtful expression. “You should know that I can’t be called in for emergencies yet.”

The implication of Alfred’s words washed over him slowly, pleasantly, and Arthur eyed the mess on his desk. He could come back next week to finish up, he supposed.

It seemed that he had more pressing matters to attend to now.

Chapter Text

Contrary to what Arthur had expected, they did not immediately pounce on one another after entering his apartment.

It was a near thing, though.

After leaving the school, Alfred filled what would’ve otherwise been a spectacularly awkward silence with nonsensical small talk, something Arthur was immensely grateful for. He forced himself to keep his mind out of the gutter by actually listening to what Alfred was saying.

However, once Alfred killed his engine, Arthur all but dragged him out of the car and up to his apartment.

His nerves were already shot to hell, even though they hadn’t even started yet, and Arthur did toy with the idea of pouncing on the firefighter the moment the front door shut behind them. However, Alfred interrupted the moment before it could happen by acknowledging Crumpet, who had noisily appeared in the hallway to greet his owner.

“Crumpy! My man!”

Predictably, Crumpet hissed and curled his back. He’d obviously not heard the uninvited guest come inside with Arthur, and quickly ran off again. Arthur rolled his eyes at his cat’s dramatics – though on the other hand, Crumpet was a cat with dignity, and Alfred could be a little… enthusiastic.

“Perhaps if you didn’t yell at him,” Arthur said teasingly, while shrugging off his coat. “he’d only judge you, and not run from you.”

“I think I’m just more of a dog person.” Alfred said with a charming smile, before throwing him one of his damned flirty winks. “But hey, I won you over, so I’ll win him over too.”

Arthur contemplated the words while Alfred hung up his own jacket, and wondered when exactly he had been ‘won over’, so to speak. Thinking back on their first and second meeting, it felt as if the outcome had always been inevitable.

Then again, if Alfred hadn’t been related to two of his students, or if the girls had been put in another class, he probably would’ve never seen him again after that first time; life-threatening situations excluded, of course.

He frowned – this wasn’t a fun thought to think about, especially not now.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Alfred quipped, obviously having noticed the sudden stormy expression on Arthur’s face.

“I’m offended you think me that cheap.” Arthur countered, shifting his serious frown into a playful one.

“My apologies, good sir.” Alfred said with a horrific British accent, before moving closer to him, somewhat forcing him to step back towards the wall. “A pound for your consideration?”

Arthur rolled his eyes and reached out to flick his forehead, but before his fingers could hit their target, Alfred snatched his hand out of the air with his own. His charmingly teasing smile remained, and he looked down at Arthur as if he was something immensely precious.

Under the sweet scrutiny, Arthur felt as if he had a little trouble with breathing normally. He fought hard to not bashfully look anywhere else, when he felt Alfred’s other hand skim over his elbow gently.

“You okay?” Alfred asked, still curious, and Arthur wanted to melt at his obvious consideration.

“You were right,” He replied, boldly, and a bit amused when Alfred appeared confused. “You did win me over. And I think it’s time you claimed your prize.”

Understanding dawned on his boyfriend, and Arthur had to bite the inside of his cheek to not giggle when Alfred smiled sweetly at him.

“I should unwrap my prize first.” He countered, cheekily, and while Arthur wouldn’t mind getting naked and to it right then and there, he imagined it would be infinitely more comfortable on his bed.

Slowly and purposefully, Arthur ran his hands up Alfred’s chest, to resting them at his shoulders. He idly played with his collar, letting his fingers skim over the bare skin of Alfred’s neck, all while looking up at him with an innocent smile.

Alfred took another step forward, and Arthur allowed him to gently push him against the wall.

“Can I - ”

“Yes.” Arthur interrupted, leaning up to meet Alfred halfway.

A soft, somewhat whiny nose left his throat the moment their lips slanted together, but Arthur decided that he didn’t care; he was in his own bloody apartment, he could make all the noises he damn well wanted to make, and no one was going to stop him.

Looping his arms around Alfred’s neck properly, he pulled him closer. Alfred retaliated by pushing him flat against the wall, and Arthur hummed appreciatively. He tilted his head to find a better angle, and once found, licked eagerly at Alfred’s lips until his boyfriend got the message and parted them.

Before, he’d always thought open mouthed kisses were a bit of a hit or miss. Depending on the situation and the person you were with, they could be wonderful, but they were too wet or sticky more often not. With Alfred, however, it’s been an absolute hit every time.

Arthur eagerly melted against him, trusting in both the wall and Alfred’s body to prevent him from falling as they lazily explored each other’s mouths. Eventually they had to part for air, and Alfred broke the kiss with one last sweet peck on his lips.

He forced his eyes to open, not having realized they’d slid shut, and immediately locked them with Alfred’s own.

“Hey, you.” Alfred murmured with a soft smile, before leaning in to press his lips against his jaw reverently. Arthur sighed encouragingly and clutched the back of his shirt, ensuring he stayed where he was. “Been wanting to do that all day- week. No, month.”

“Ditto.” Arthur replied, unable to come up with anything better. He tilted his head to give Alfred access to the skin below his jawline, and slowly slid his hands back down from Alfred’s shoulders to the front of his jeans.

“Arthur,” Alfred uttered softly, his breath ghosting over his skin. “Arthur – “

Arthur tugged him closer again by hooking his fingers around the waistband of his jeans, before bumping his nose against Alfred’s cheek. “Kiss me.” He demanded, eyes slipping closed again when Alfred followed his orders.

He felt Alfred’s hands fumble with his shirt, tugging it out of his jeans and then slipping his hands underneath the fabric. His fingers, while a bit cold, left a trail of fire on his bare skin. Arthur groaned into his mouth and eagerly started fumbling with the fly of Alfred’s jeans.

Before he could get his hand in, however, Alfred weaseled a knee between his own legs, creating delicious, yet insufficient friction. Arthur broke their kiss again to inhale sharply, feeling a little light-headed when Alfred remained close to kiss at his cheek again.

“Bedroom?” He managed to gasp, hands tightly fisted in the front of Alfred’s shirt and probably wrinkling it terribly.

“Bedroom.” Alfred confirmed, reluctantly moving back to grant Arthur enough space to lead him towards their next destination.

Arthur quickly grabbed his hand and tugged him down the hallway, to his bedroom. The moment they crossed the doorway, Alfred was back on him, turning him around and pulling him flush against him to devour his mouth again. His tongue swept over the roof of his mouth, acquainting itself with every nook and cranny, and Arthur moaned appreciatively.

Because they were entirely too caught up in their groping and kissing, Arthur nearly tripped over the carpet once, but Alfred’s iron grip on him prevented him from falling, and he wrapped his fingers around Alfred’s biceps appreciatively. Once he felt the bed behind him, he forcibly turned them around to push Alfred down on the mattress.

“Ow.”

Arthur immediately stilled, horrified at himself: he’d pushed at Alfred’s chest, his ribs.

“Oh, bollocks.” He exclaimed, horniness forgotten as worry took over. “Are you all right? Sorry, love, I didn’t mean to – ”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Alfred said, his grimace disappearing like snow for the sun, but Arthur had already seen it. “Come back here.”

Tentatively, Arthur allowed Alfred to tug him forward, in between his spread legs. He felt a fond smile tug at his lips as he reached out to card a hand through his boyfriend’s hair, and Alfred tilted his head up a bit, pushing it further into his hand like a dog would.

He leaned down to press a brief, sweet kiss against Alfred’s lips, allowing Alfred to deepen it as he saw fit. Soon enough, the earlier heat seeped back into Arthur’s limbs and bones, making him lightheaded and aroused again.

Alfred’s hands found the hem of his shirt again, before pushing it up insistently until Arthur got the message and quickly yanked his shirt over his own head. Alfred made an appreciative noise against his lips and wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him closer and closer so that Arthur saw no other option but to climb his lap –

Only to immediately slip off of it again, when he pushed his hands against Alfred’s chest to make sure he stayed put, causing Alfred to wince.

“Christ, sorry.”

“I get that you’re handsy, but maybe save the violence for another time.”

“Not funny.” Arthur murmured with a bit of a pout – how were they going to do this? Maybe they shouldn’t be doing it, Alfred was still recovering, after all. “Perhaps we should wait a bit longer.”

“Absolutely not.” Alfred protested immediately. “We’re alone, I can’t be called in for emergencies, and I’ve been waiting for months. We’re doing this now.”

“I’m flattered that you want me this much,” Arthur said, aware that his face was redder than it ought to be. “but it’s not exactly sexy if you wince every time I touch you.”

“Not every time.” Alfred corrected with a coy, yet reassuring grin. “But if you’re unsure, I could tie you up. That way you won’t be able to touch me.”

“Maybe some other time.” Arthur said dryly – it wasn’t that the idea wasn’t an attractive one, but he wanted to be able to touch Alfred during their first time, too. “Then we’ll just have to be careful.”

Alfred looked up at him expectantly, with messy hair, kiss-swollen lips and dark, curious eyes. Unable to resist, Arthur moved back in between his legs, and reached down to gently grab hold of Alfred’s shirt. He slowly, softly tugged it over Alfred’s head, plucking his glasses from his face as well.

Moving back minimally, to also deposit the glasses somewhere safe, Arthur stilled to take in the bruises on Alfred’s chest. The area wasn’t as red and purple as it had once been, but the fading, yellowish color proved that it was still sensitive.

Arthur reached out to gently brush his fingers over it, pleased that Alfred didn’t tense or wince at that. It won’t be the wild tumble in the sheets he’d fantasized about, but he was sure they could make it work.

Without further prompting, Arthur sank down on his knees, grinning slyly up at Alfred when the firefighter seemed to choke on his own breathing almost immediately.

“I’ll busy myself down here for a while,” He said innocently, reaching up to play with Alfred’s fly. “and you think of a position that won’t hurt you. Sounds good?”

Alfred’s as still as a statue as he watched Arthur undo his fly and zipper, though he obediently raised his hips when Arthur tugged at the fabric. He kept his eyes locked with Alfred’s as he slid down his jeans and briefs for a moment longer, but then he simply has to give into temptation, and he lowered his eyes towards the cock now in his line of sight.

Even though he’s struck by the intense desire to just lean forward, to wrap his lips around it and to swallow it down, Arthur waited, and settled Alfred with a questioning look.

Fortunately, Alfred’s brains apparently managed to come back online, and he quickly nodded. “Sounds – sounds good. Deal.”

Arthur smirked, and rewarded him by leaning forward immediately, blowing on the head to tease and reveling in the way it made Alfred groan. When he finally wrapped his lips around the tip, he immediately started paying special attention to the slit with his tongue.

Alfred sucked in a harsh, strained breath, and automatically reached out to tangle a hand into his hair, pushing gently to encourage him to take more. Arthur let him, but made sure to prohibit any other movement by planting both his hands on Alfred's hips.

He started a slow rhythm, hollowing out his cheeks as he moved down. It took some effort to relax his throat, trying to take just a bit more than he knew he actually could. Then he went back up, dragging the flat of his tongue along the length before pushing it down against the sensitive slit at the top.

“Oh, Arthur, that’s good, ugh,”

Arthur moaned around him, his own cock straining uncomfortably tight against his jeans. He shifted a bit on his knees, trying to find non-existent friction, before giving up and lowering one of his hands down to palm at himself.

When Alfred’s hand tightened in his hair, Arthur retaliated by swallowing down whatever he could. Alfred tensed, and then he started pulling at his hair. Reluctantly, Arthur pulled away, looking up at his partner through half-lidded eyes and relishing in how affected Alfred looked.

“Get on the bed.” Alfred said in a pleading tone, and Arthur scrambled to get back on his feet.

They both reached for Arthur’s jeans at the same time, and with Arthur undoing his fly and Alfred pulling the fabric down, they get rid of his remaining clothes in record time. Arthur quickly climbed onto the bed, taking extra precaution to not accidentally elbow or knee Alfred in his side, and Alfred got on top of him in seconds. 

“How are you this hot?” Alfred groaned, his hands sliding around his back to grope at his behind.

Arthur adopted the dangerous, sly little grin he’d perfected in high school, enjoying the way Alfred’s eyes clouded over with lust, before leaning up to let their lips get reacquainted. Alfred’s hands roughly squeezed at his ass, kneading the flesh and teasingly spreading his cheeks, and he writhed with pleasure.

And while this was fantastic, Arthur had different plans. He trailed his hands down to grab onto Alfred’s cock again, thumbing at the tip before sliding his fingers down and squeezing at the base. Alfred tilted his head to break their kiss and hissed approvingly, while rocking his hips down into his hand.

“I’ve thought about doing this for so long.”

Arthur leaned back a little – enough that he could properly look at Alfred, but not far enough that he’d have to let go of his prize. “Yeah? How long?”

“Since I first laid eyes on you.” Alfred admitted shamelessly, and Arthur, despite already feeling quite warm, felt his face flush even more. “You looked so adorable, and your accent is so hot.” He continued, unaware (or perhaps not so unaware) of what the words were doing to Arthur. “And I saw you looking too.”

Arthur would’ve been embarrassed, had it not been for the sinful way Alfred was still kneading his ass, or the intense manner he maintained eye-contact with him. “Looking?”

“Like you’ve been thinking about this too.” Alfred replied, and the smugness in his voice only turned Arthur on more. “Drove me nuts, knowing you wanted this as much as I did.”

“You’re not wrong.” Arthur admitted easily, because why not? “I’ve entertained many a fantasy where I invited you up after our first meeting.”

“Oh?”

“To show my gratitude, of course.”

“Kinky.” Alfred said with a huff of laughter. “But I can’t say I haven’t thought about bending you over your desk after class.”

Arthur pulled his hand back and settled him with an unimpressed glare. “I taught your nieces there, Alfred.”

“Not anymore.” Alfred replied cheekily, before gently swatting his hand away and pushing down to grind against him.

“Oh, fuck,” Arthur groaned, hips jerking upward in search for more friction. “Alfred, just fuck me, please.”

That was apparently all the instigation Alfred needed, and he manhandled Arthur into a sideways position. Arthur didn’t think much of it, using the sudden freedom to lean over to the night stand and rummage through its drawer to extract the lube and a condom.

However, once he returned, Alfred pushed him down into the same position, and at his confused grunt, Alfred leaned down to kiss at his shoulders.

“Lying down on this side doesn’t hurt at all,” He explained, biting down teasingly on the skin where his neck met his shoulder. “So I suggest we go at it spooning.”

Arthur wasn’t entirely sure if something like that would work out, but by the time Alfred’s gotten three fingers inside of him, he’s well past the point of caring, and already reduced to breathless moans and whimpers.

“You sure?” Alfred murmured sweetly into his shoulder, once his fingers left Arthur and patted around for the condom.

“Never been surer.” Arthur panted in return, managing to clear his head just a little bit when Alfred ripped the packet open, rolling the condom on and lathering his cock with some leftover lube.

Arthur squirmed when he felt the tip of his dick prod at his entrance, and automatically raised one of his legs. Alfred grunted approvingly and grabbed hold of his knee to pull it up a bit more, and while the angle his leg was bent in was a bit uncomfortable, Arthur shoved the thought aside when Alfred finally pushed inside of him.

Perhaps it was the position they were in, perhaps it was the fact that it’d been ages since Arthur did this at all, or perhaps it was just Alfred – but it almost felt as if he were being split in two, though not necessarily in a bad way.

By the time he felt Alfred’s crotch against his arse, he was panting and clutching the sheets that were discarded next to them, hoping to find some kind of tether in them.

 “Holy shit,” He managed to exclaim between his pants. “Give me a moment.”

He felt Alfred’s answering chuckle before he heard it, what with his back pressed flush against Alfred’s chest. The sweaty, warm skin of his bare chest felt good and comfortable against his own back, and Arthur decided to focus on that, relaxing himself as best as he could in order to melt further into the heat of Alfred’s embrace.

The hand still wrapped around Arthur’s knee tugged a little, and without thinking too much about it, Arthur obediently allowed it to bend his leg. Alfred slowly moved it back, to curl around his own hip, so that it essentially trapped Alfred against him.

“Shit,” Alfred grunted, the moment he let go and Arthur went lax again. “I didn’t know you were this flexible.”

Arthur squirmed a bit, realizing he felt a lot more comfortable already, and wished he could toss Alfred a grin over his shoulder. Unfortunately, they were much too close to one another, and so Arthur settled for a breathy chuckle of his own.

 “This is nothing.” He reassured, wriggling his hips again, not to test his comfort but to tease Alfred. “Wait until you’re healed and I’ll show you flexible.”

“Yeah?” Alfred answered, slowly starting to thrust now that Arthur appeared comfortable. “Can’t wait.”

Arthur was about to comment on how Alfred should be focusing on the present instead of on the future, when his arm wrapped around him. For a  moment, Arthur thought Alfred intended to simply hold him, and it made affection burn underneath his skin.

But then Alfred wrapped his hand around his neglected cock, and Arthur felt himself burn for entirely different reasons.

“Oh, yes, that’s – there, yes – Al – ”

“I got you.” Alfred murmured, still mouthing at Arthur’s shoulder while he curved himself around Arthur’s back.

His hips continued to thrust, setting a slow and torturous and absolutely perfect pace of pulling out and pushing in. Arthur couldn’t find it in himself to match his rhythm and therefore chose to simply lie there and let Alfred do his thing, because he was obviously splendid at it, and he sighed when Alfred reverently kissed along his neck.

“Alfred,” He said, though it came out soft enough to be called a whisper. “Alfred, Alfred,”

“I’m here.” Alfred grunted, tilting his hips and changing the angle and then Arthur saw stars. He gasped, throwing his head back against Alfred’s shoulder and scrambling to tangle his fingers into the sheets as he toed around the edges of orgasm.

He melted into Alfred’s embrace, perfectly content to turn into a puddle of goo if it meant they would stay in this safe, cozy and intimate position, this embrace. Dimly, he was aware that Alfred was whispering sweet nothings against his skin, but he was more focused on how Alfred’s pace was starting to stutter and grow irregular.

 “I love you.” Alfred finally whispered against his shoulder, punctuating the words with another well-aimed thrust.

Arthur cried out, his voice hoarse as he moaned Alfred’s name, and then he spilled himself into Alfred’s hand, simultaneously bucking forward into his hand and back into the warmth of his embrace.

“Arthur, shit,” Alfred hissed, letting go of his cock so that he could grip onto his hip instead. He squeezed it tightly, yanking him back against his crotch, and Arthur mustered up all the energy he had left to clench around his lover in time with his thrusts. “so tight, so good, you’re so good to me, love you – ”

When he came, Alfred called out his name, the sound coming out more slurred than usual. He rode out his orgasm with lazy thrusts until he came to a full stop, still buried deep inside of him, and Arthur sighed, grabbing hold of Alfred’s hand on his hip to tug it back to his chest.

After a few seconds, Alfred pulled out of him, and Arthur hissed at the weird, uncomfortable feeling. “Sorry, darling.” Alfred said with a bit of a smirk in his voice, as he leaned down to nuzzle his face into Arthur’s hair.

Only Arthur had seen the retreat as the perfect opportunity to turn around and finally face his boyfriend again, and when he attempted to turn around, he elbowed Alfred right in his side, causing the firefighter to yelp and wince.

He quickly rolled on his back to get away from Arthur and his elbows, and Arthur froze, looking Alfred over carefully. Once certain that he hadn’t re-bruised his ribs, he continued turning around, until he was sidled up close to Alfred’s side.

Alfred was pouting up at him, and Arthur bit his lip to prevent himself from grinning. “Oh, belt up.” He scolded, easing his fingers over Alfred’s chest in a soft and soothing motion.

“You should kiss it better.” Alfred suggested, and Arthur gladly leaned down to capture his lips.

They kissed languidly for a while longer, their hands wandering aimlessly, the both of them exploring each other without the distraction of needy arousal clouding their thoughts.

Arthur wasn’t sure how long they simply stayed like that, trading kisses and nips and smiles, but eventually the dried up mess on his stomach started to itch and so he extracted himself from Alfred’s grip to head into the bathroom attached to his bedroom.

Grabbing a few tissues, he quickly cleaned himself up, eager to dive back into bed and just spend the rest of the day snuggled up with the hot firefighter already in it. Sure, they’d probably have to get out for dinner sometime sooner or later.... or they could order in and eat in the bed, he was due for a laundry day anyway –

“Holy shit!”

Arthur quickly took a step back to peer into the bedroom, both anxious and curious as to what would have caused such an outburst. However, Alfred wasn’t hurt, nor was he sad or shocked by something – no, he was grinning from ear to ear.

He was also leaning out of the bed in a manner that must be uncomfortable, and stretching his arm out as far as he could. At the end of it stood Crumpet, who was begrudgingly and warily allowing Alfred to run his fingers through the fur on his back.

“I told you we’d warm up to each other.” Alfred said smugly, and Arthur was probably horrible, but he didn’t warn him when he noticed Crumpet’s tail swishing with annoyance.

As expected, the cat rapidly turned and swiped at him with his claws, before skidding off again. Alfred harrumphed and sat back against the headboard, rubbing at the scratch now on his hand, and Arthur couldn’t help but laugh.

“Meanie.” Alfred accused him, and Arthur walked over to climb back on top of the bed.

He gingerly sat down on his lap, his pulse fluttering happily when Alfred automatically reached out to wrap an arm around him. Reaching out, he tangled his fingers into Alfred’s slightly sweaty hair and carded them through the locks.

The attention caused Alfred’s eyes to slip closed. A dorky smile graced his face, and Arthur’s heart swelled with so much affection that it hurt. “I love you, too.” He said, because he hadn’t said it back yet, and because it was true. 

Alfred’s smile turned softer, and he opened his eyes again to peer up at him. Then he tickled his fingers along Arthur’s sides, but since Arthur wasn’t ticklish, it did very little.

Alfred huffed with amusement and laced his fingers together behind Arthur’s neck, gently tugging him forward. Arthur went willingly, and buried his face in his boyfriend’s neck, slowly relaxing in his embrace.

“Hmm,” Alfred hummed, burying his face in Arthur’s hair. “Let’s never leave this bed.”

Instead of agreeing out loud, Arthur simply stole a few dozen more kisses from him.