Chapter Text
"Alfred... might you be able to spare a moment? I have something I want to talk to you about."
The boy in question glanced up, curious, but shrugged it off as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. He'd known Arthur for five years now and for his friend to so politely ask to talk to him was weird. Still, it was Arthur, and after a summer in England it was possible that he'd gone and picked up some weird habits again. "Sure thing, Artie."
Strangely, the other boy didn't react to the nickname at all. Instead Arthur fidgeted with the strap of his own bag and glanced around, as though to verify that they were alone in the classroom. When he found that they weren't, he frowned. "Somewhere else, I mean...? It's a little, er... personal..." He murmured low, so that only Alfred would hear.
"Oh, um. Okay."
Somehow they ended up on the roof.
Alfred glanced at the phone he kept in his pocket, slipping the device up just enough to see the time. He had practice soon, after all. "So what's this about, anyway?" He said, half-laughing. "You make it sound like you're about to tell me some big national secret."
The British boy looked openly uncomfortable and laughed awkwardly. "Well, yes. I suppose I have." He admitted, which was also strange. Arthur tended to bristle when he made jokes but now he was shuffling from foot to foot and wringing his hands.
Alfred watched him, blinking at the peculiar behavior.
"Have you ever..." Arthur began slowly, "liked someone?"
Feeling his brow furrow, Alfred looked at him with amusement. "Liked someone? How so?"
"Well, just..." A pregnant pause. "Is there anyone you--, no, I mean..." Arthur looked visibly pained.
"Hey, you okay man?" Alfred said, not sure whether to laugh or be worried about his friend. While his actions were kind of cute, Alfred wasn't sure what to make of it all. It looked like he was short-circuiting with how red he was turning.
"Er-- it's just. What I mean to say is--," Arthur stammered, flushing red, "I... I fancy you, Alfred."
Emerald green looked at him, expectant.
Fancy...
Fancy?
Alfred blinked, trying to process this. He cocked his head one way, then the other, then crossed his arms. "You... fancy me?" He repeated, thinking he'd misheard.
"Yes, I-- Yes." Arthur pressed his lips together, again looking as though he were waiting for some kind of response to that.
Alfred peered at him.
... This was a British thing, wasn't it?
"Oh. Well." Alfred grinned, feeling triumphant. "I don't fancy you, but I can totally see why you'd fancy me." He announced smoothly. "Was that all you wanted to say? That's really silly." He added, laughing slightly.
Arthur was staring at him, his expression carefully blank. "Oh, I... That was it. Yes. That was all..."
"Cool, 'cause I gotta get to practice." Alfred told him, checking his phone again. He turned for the door to the roof. "See ya later, Artie!"
He shrugged off the silence that followed him, making his way quickly down the stairs. If he was late, his coach would kill him.
Alfred preened internally though.
He didn't always understand British slang, but he hated to ask what things meant because, more often then not, he'd get an earful on the faults of the American education system and blah, blah, blah. And he usually got it right anyway if he just thought about it for a little bit.
Still, wasn't it a little odd for Arthur to go out of his way just to tell Alfred that he liked his fashion sense?
It was kind of cute though. Maybe he was acclimating to the states now. Maybe he even wanted tips!
And what was Alfred to say in return, anyway? Bulky sweaters and turtlenecks and those little effeminate jackets just weren't his thing.
Regardless, he'd just shown Arthur that, no matter what strange words the British boy used, Alfred could understand the meaning just fine. American education system, indeed.