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“Alfred, no.”
“Alfred yes!”
“Alfred. No.”
“But Aaaaartie!”
Arthur will not look at the eyes. Arthur will not look at the eyes. Arthur will not- He looks at the eyes. “You know my pool is for laps, not splashing around,” is all he can manage.
The eyes only get bigger as Alfred wraps his arms around the box. “That doesn’t matter! It’s still a pool!”
“Yes, but-”
“And it’s right here! Right in our path! It’s gotta be destiny or something!”
Arthur sighs through his nose and curses the layout of the store. Of course the giant pool floats are along the wall where the checkout queue runs. “Really, now.”
“Yeah!”
Unable to think of a reply for the moment, Arthur simply turns away as Alfred goes rooting around through the display. His eyes skim over various face masks, hair bands, and other bits and bobs. The line moves and he takes a step forward, but he’s unfortunately still in reach of the floats.
Alfred crows behind him, though when he turns around, the taller man is hiding the box behind his back. There’s a smirk on his face. Arthur suddenly feels like he’s aged a hundred years. “What did you find now?”
Alfred’s smile stretches wider. “I think you’ll like it.”
“I highly doubt it.”
“Wanna bet?”
Arthur purses his lips. “No. Now come on, show me.”
Alfred fumbles the box into view, then presents it with as much flair as he can muster when they’re in a crowded queue. A white, blue, and pink pegacorn float looks out from the cardboard with a cutesy grin. There’s a little girl on the float’s back, her smile bright as the sun.
“Oh my god,” Arthur says quietly.
“Eh? Eh? You’re totally hooked, right?” Alfred wiggles the box around. “You totally love it and want to take it home with you, right?”
“I- I didn’t say that.” Arthur pulls his gaze away. It snaps right back within seconds.
“But you’re thinking it!” Alfred’s practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as he dumps the pegacorn into their mesh shopping bag and picks up the burger again. “So it’s settled. You get the unicorn, and I’ve got-”
“Now hang on a moment. I didn’t agree to one of the things, let alone two.”
“But c’mooon! They’re perfect for us!”
“They also cost ten quid each. That’s nothing to scoff at.” The line creeps forward again. A few more steps and they’ll be out of range. Arthur wills the cashiers to hurry.
“I’ll pay you back for mine, then.”
“Alfred,” Arthur says, his voice low, and Alfred freezes where he’s trying to shove the burger in. “Do we really need them?”
“I really, really want-”
“But do we need them?”
Alfred’s cheeks puff out. His brows furrow as he thinks, and after a few seconds he resumes forcing the box in. “Yeah, we do.”
Arthur blinks. “How do you figure that?”
“Well.” With a final shove, the box wedges between the pegacorn box and the mesh of the bag. “It’s been hot as ba-” Alfred stops as Arthur’s elbow drives into his ribs, then follows the Brit’s nod towards the children in the queue behind them. “-ts, hot as bats for the past like, three weeks here and it gets boring just doing laps around your pool or just sitting there, so these babies will guarantee us having an awesome time in your pool instead!”
“Oh they’ll guarantee it, will they?” Arthur allows a small smirk to come to his face. “Is that a personal guarantee?”
Alfred opens his mouth, but nothing escapes it. After a moment, he shuts it again and nods.
“And what will happen if I’m not one hundred percent satisfied by the results? After all, we don’t have time for me to ‘just walk around the store with it and then we’ll maybe get it if you want to when we reach the registers’.” Arthur allows himself to be a little mean; his wallet still hasn’t recovered from the Switch. He can tell Alfred knows exactly what he’s talking about by the way those blue eyes narrow.
“If you don’t like them, we’ll return ‘em.”
“Hmm, that means another trip into town…” He tilts his head up and glances at Alfred from the corner of his eye, the epitome of coyness.
Alfred smacks his shoulder. “Stop that, you jerk. We’ll return them…and I’ll take you to Greyfriars for Afternoon Tea. All the stops, proper dress, the whole shebang.”
“How romantic.” Arthur wets his lips. “A tempting offer for two pool floats.”
“Sweetheart,” Alfred murmurs, leaning in to whisper into Arthur’s ear. “I really want those floats.” The line moves again, taking the pair out of reach. “And would you look at that, I can’t put ‘em back anymore.”
It’s Arthur’s turn to jab at him again. “Devil,” he chides, but his tone is too fond for it to be a true reprimand. He looks down at the burger float again and his brows furrow. “I thought it looked strange.”
“What looks strange?” Alfred blinks and is back to his innocent ray of sunshine self.
“The ‘burger’ looks more like a bagel, it’s got a great big bloody hole in the middle of it.”
Alfred snickers. “Well yeah, it’s gotta be ring-shaped for someone to fit inside.”
“That’s not a burger then, is it?”
“Hey, don’t knock bagel burgers. The ones they did at McDonald’s in April were good.”
“Might as well make it a donut,” Arthur mutters, huffing and looking away from the box.
“Got one of those in the California house.”
“Of course you do.”
“We got a deal though?”
Arthur peeks up at him and gives a short nod. It’s all worth it in that second when he sees the grin Alfred sends him in return.
The line moves quickly for them after that. Nothing else catches Alfred’s eye, and the people in front of them only seem to have minimal items to check out. By the time they do reach the cashier, Arthur’s almost forgotten that the purpose of the trip was to buy socks, and he stares dumbly at the packages as they’re transferred to paper bags. Alfred’s happy to make small talk with the teen serving them, so Arthur has the moment to collect himself before he has to tap his card.
Then they’re out into the god-awful sun, still scorching despite it being well past noon. “I hate this,” Arthur grumbles. He can feel his skin prickling uncomfortably at his neck and arms where his sunscreen has been sweated off.
“Poor Artie,” Alfred coos into his ear before whipping out a hat from his backpack. “You’re lucky I came prepared. Food and then home, or just home?”
“Home, please.” Arthur marches off resolutely in the direction of the bus stops. “We can have takeaway tonight.”
“Hell yeah!” Alfred waits until they’re sat on the bus stop benches to speak again. “I’m guessing we’ll test out the floats tomorrow, then?”
“Mhm.” Arthur nods and closes his eyes, allowing himself to lean into Alfred’s shoulders. They’ve been walking around town centre all day, and he’s starting to feel sluggish under the burning heat.
“You okay?” Alfred’s voice is soft, serious.
“Just tired. Let me know when the bus comes?” Arthur’s lips turn up as he feels the barest of kisses to his head.
“Sure. When we get in you can have a cold shower and I’ll pour you some of the iced tea we brewed yesterday and we can do whatever you want, okay?”
“Alright. Skyrim?”
Alfred laughs. “I figured you’d say that. We’re close to finishing the Miraak quest so we’ll do that and then screw around.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Alfred’s content to let him rest while they wait for the bus to appear, one hand carding slowly through sandy hair.
The sun is bright against the cloudless sky even at seven the next morning. Arthur takes one look at it and groans. He shuts off his alarm and curls back into Alfred’s side.
“The world must be ending,” Alfred mumbles to him.
“What?”
“You’re actually sleeping in.”
Arthur brushes a hand against Alfred’s bare side. “Shut it.”
Alfred snorts and wriggles away. “Okay, okay, please! Don’t make me wake up too much.”
“Get back to sleep then. And come back here.” Arthur holds out an arm, content when Alfred presses against him.
The Brit sends another stink eye skyward when they do get up closer to noon, but unfortunately he can’t will the rains down. He would have done it two weeks ago if he could have. Alfred makes breakfast though, which does lift his brows from their furrow.
In the end it’s past one when they’re both in their swimming trunks at the edge of Arthur’s lap pool. Alfred has slathered sunscreen over every part of Arthur’s body that the sun could possibly reach. There’s none on him; he tans beautifully instead of going part lobster if he happens look at the sun wrong.
Arthur stretches and rolls out his shoulders as he steps up to the edge. “The usual?”
“Sure.” Alfred sighs happily as his spine pops. “Loser has to blow up both floats.”
“Deal.”
“Go!” Arthur says, and in that second dives.
“You little-!” Alfred’s in the water an instant later, his muscles flexing and straining as he works to close the gap.
They’re dead even matched. While Alfred does have the muscles to power through the water and physique to keep going for an extended period of time, Arthur has speed. His body is more wiry and streamlined in the water, but he always tires after the sixteenth lap and has to rely on tight turns stay on track with Alfred.
It’s no different today. Arthur’s off like a minnow at the start, and he keeps a sizeable lead for three laps before Alfred’s power becomes apparent and they cut through the water neck and neck. He’s able to pick up a small lead again with each sharp turn he does, but Alfred’s power is unstoppable and the lead never lasts long. At the start of the seventeenth lap he feels his shoulders protesting but pushes through it, tucking his body in even tighter at each turn for that extra bit of space.
He pushes off from the final turn and strains forward. Alfred’s just behind him at the turn, and for a moment the Brit allows his eyes to sweep over the water-dappled skin. Then he faces ahead and kicks as hard as he can. His breathing is ragged whenever he can break the surface. With a final lunge he reaches out and slaps his hand against the stone rim, milliseconds ahead of Alfred.
“I win!” he gasps as he rights himself and treads water. His arms feel weakened so he can’t hold onto the edge of the pool as tightly as he’d like to, but his face is flush with victory.
Alfred laughs as well and shakes the hair out of his eyes. “Are you sure?”
Arthur splashes him and huffs. “Positive.”
“Alright, alright. Rematch tomorrow, then.”
As if they’d have it any other way. Arthur shuffles closer to him in the water and presses a wet kiss to his cheek. “Catch your breath, love. You’ll need it to blow up that abomination of yours.”
“Give me like ten minutes.”
They both swim over to the little inlet in the side of the pool and climb out the steps there. Alfred flops onto one of the two deck chairs while Arthur dries himself off and – ever so slightly – wobbles to the kitchen. He returns five minutes later on steadier legs and with a glass of iced tea in each hand.
Half an hour later, Alfred’s out of breath again, but the two floats are settled in the water. “And now for relaxation,” he says as he hops into his. The burger upends him into the pool and he’s laughing as he comes back up for air.
Arthur can only shake his head and smile. He steps more delicately onto his pegacorn and manages to keep his torso out of the water- right up until Alfred creeps up beneath him and sends him flying into the water.
“Alfred!”
The American gleefully avoids Arthur’s splashes and clambers back into his burger. They both relax after that, drifting together with their hands intertwined. Every now and then Alfred shifts to dribble water either over his stomach or Arthur’s back. Each time he does that, he also leans over to press a kiss to Arthur’s cheek or neck or hair.
It’s past five by the time they eventually head back indoors, both of their stomachs rumbling in protest. Alfred’s tan has gotten a shade darker and while Arthur’s shoulders are pinked, he hasn’t burned. They shower together and sprawl on the couch as yesterday’s takeaway reheats.
“So what did you think?” Alfred asks. His fingers are once again buried in Arthur’s hair.
“Today was nice, despite the heat,” Arthur says casually. “I hope it rains tomorrow.”
Alfred pinches his side. “You know what I mean.”
“Oi-” Arthur jolts and bumps his head to Alfred’s chin. “I’ll admit it, it was…enjoyable to float on the pegacorn on the water instead of having to focus on keeping myself afloat. I had fun.”
“Really?” Alfred smiles brightly at him.
“Of course. Did you think I’d lie?”
“Well, Greyfriars is on the line…”
Arthur shakes his head. “I wouldn’t do that to you over a tea room.”
“You’ve done it to me for less.” Alfred snorts.
“That was ages ago,” Arthur says dismissively. “Greyfriars, or town, or just the pool, as long as I can spend time with you, I’m happy.”
Alfred’s face softens. “I love you, Art.”
“I love you too.”
Alfred takes him for Afternoon Tea the following Friday anyway, just because.