Hello my cabbages! I'm going to call you all that now. Okay? Okay. I wrote this at one in the morning because I can't sleep, I have a doctor's appointment in a few hours that I'm pretty anxious about. Life is going well otherwise though, and honestly, this was a fun chapter to write. The next chapter will be fun as well! I've already started planning it out, and depending on how productive I feel after posting this, I may post it by the end of the day today.

My dog keeps farting on me and I may suffocate before I get to write anything though. Please, if I disappear, know that it was either his toxic fumes, or an evil cricket. Possibly both, because who knows, they may be in cahoots. Nothing is safe these days.

Not much to update on, except what I plan on putting at the bottom. A few things I want to mention about this chapter, not much, but worthwhile.

I hope you enjoy!

(Just a general reminder that all the people who have favorited and followed are a-ma-zing, and that reviews make me super-duper happy and I greatly appreciate them. Also feel free to PM me if you have suggestions or ideas for the story!)


A familiar feeling, the mixed emotions of relief and fear, began to stir in Alfred's mind as he returned to class, mixing with the stress that had built from the last few days. Arthur, sitting beside him, was focusing diligently on his schoolwork. Though every time he glanced at Alfred's desk he would catch the boy watching the clock. When a second would pass, the clock would tick, serving as an ongoing reminder that the day was ending. They both knew what was coming, and Arthur, busying himself and his mind to avoid thinking about it, couldn't help but worry anxiously about Alfred's inability to bring himself out of his thoughts.

It was Friday, the last day of the school week, and its end would immediately blossom into the weekend's beginning. Most students would await the weekend happily, ready for a break from their work, to sleep in, spend time with their friends, and procrastinate their homework until their bus ride back to school the next Monday. Alfred and Arthur did not enjoy the weekend nearly as much as their peers. It always brought memories back, from the better times, and from the worse.

Alfred thought of the spontaneous camping trips he used to have with his parents and brother, tents and fishing gear in tow. He could smell the burning wood, taste the crisp, burnt marshmallow sandwiched with melting chocolate and crumbly graham crackers. Yet he also remembered the containers of ice cream he would devour, the take-out bags from different fast food restaurants, dripping with oil and grease. He could smell the putrid vomit he would come up after, not as a punishment or a plea for help, but only as part of a routine, the relentless cycle he found himself trapped in. The taste was never as bad as the smell, and no matter how many air fresheners and cleaners he used, the smell would always linger.

Arthur thought of the time he used to spend with his mother before her death. They would go to the park to have picnics, to hog the swing set, and chase the squirrels. She always smelled like a specific flower, which, though Arthur desperately tried to replicate, he never found. The secret to the aroma never discovered. Yet he knew of the sharp contrast it had with his father's breath, reeking of alcohol, and hot on his face as he was pushed against the wall, yelled at, degraded, beaten. The taste of blood when his nose had been broken would never leave his memory. It was worse though, when the harsh scent of booze wasn't present, but his father would hurt him as if there was nothing missing. He wasn't sure what had pained him more, the bruises and breaks, or the fact that his father hated him so passionately and authentically that he would beat him when completely sober.

Shaking his head quickly, Arthur snapped himself out of his thoughts, returning to the papers in front of him and jotting down a set of words the teacher had written on the whiteboard. That's what schoolwork served as, a distraction. A way to escape their pasts, avoid their present lives, and pretend that they had brilliant plans for their futures. There was always something to do, something to focus on, read, write, learn about, that they usually didn't have time to daydream and get stuck in an area of their minds they would rather not travel to. But, with every tick of the obnoxiously loud clock, they were both reminded of the upcoming weekend.

Looking back at Alfred, Arthur realized the boy's glance was still on the clock, his eyes glazed over, as if he weren't really there. His hand rocketed into the air. "Mr. Stevens, I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, but I believe that Alfred and I were supposed to go talk with Mr. Bonnefoy."

Their teacher turned around, a bored expression on his face. "Okay Kirkland, you can both turn in your notes next class." Arthur nodded to him, beginning to put his stuff away in a hurried, but organized manner. Standing and shrugging his backpack on, he tapped Alfred's shoulder, watching as he blinked and looked up. No words were exchanged as Arthur gave him a knowing look, sharing an odd half-smile as Alfred stood, grabbing his things and letting Arthur lead him out of the classroom. Alfred usually copied Arthur's notes anyways, there was no purpose in setting materials out in front of him. The teacher knew about their little ruse, and honestly, didn't care enough to try and stop them.

When they were both out in the halls, Arthur took Alfred's hand, leading him down an empty stairwell. Though the current block was Francis's planning period, that's not where they were heading, and when Alfred realized where Arthur was bringing him, he laughed. "I thought the field was blocked off when they opened the gymnasium last year."

"Exactly." Arthur responded, giving Alfred a mischievous smile before opening the door, carefully stepping outside and looking in both directions before continuing towards a grassy field. The field was encased by a blockade of rusty bleachers, spaced a few feet apart from each other and leaving obvious gaps. Really, if the school didn't want students to sneak through, they could at least put up a fence, or do something to seem like they were trying.

Arthur gently released Alfred's hand before plopping on the ground, laying on his back and spreading his arms across the grass. Not too soon after, Alfred joined him, and much to Arthur's surprise (and enjoyment, not that he would mention, even if you asked very nicely), reached out to hold his hand again.

All and all, it was a nice day outside. The grass was dewy and the ground was moist, but the sun was shining and radiating a pleasant warmth, still being blocked by enough clouds remaining from the morning's storms that it wasn't blindingly bright. There was a light breeze that rustled Arthur's shaggy hair, moving his bangs down to tickle his nose, like a fairy, or mythical creature of sorts, was stopping to say hello, or asking to play.

"Hey, Arthur?" Once mentioned, he turned his head to glance at Alfred. "You look really nice out here. Well, I mean, you always look really nice. Did you ever notice that your eyes match the grass? You probably didn't, because you would have to use your eyes to see it, and that wouldn't really make much sense- mmf!" Alfred made a startled noise as Arthur rolled over on top of him, ending his rambling by bringing his lips down to meet Alfred's in a soft kiss.

After what seemed like a long time, yet also not long enough, Arthur broke away, taking a deep breath and smiling at Alfred. "I always thought your eyes were nice as well. They're blue, it matches the sky quite nicely." Alfred, feeling his face redden, couldn't help but smile, before taking his hand back and putting it in Arthur's hair, pulling the other back down on top of him.

Minutes passed and their embrace become more heated, Alfred biting at Arthur's lip, delighting in the quiet groan that it brought. Arthur began to kiss along Alfred's jaw line and down to his neck. Occasional nips lead to subdued moans, and a harsh bite in a sensitive spot made Alfred buck his hips. "Arthur, we…" Alfred paused to catch his breath. "We can't do this right here! I mean, we're still at school!" Arthur looked up, meeting Alfred's gaze, focusing in on his eyes. They were glazed over, not with confusion or disorient, but with raging hormones and not-so-clean thoughts and desire and Arthur was just happy to see the change.

"Nobody comes out to this field anyways, besides." Arthur reached between them, rubbing his palm over Alfred's pants shamelessly. "You seem to be enjoying this." Alfred gasped, his hips bucking again into Arthur's hand, and his face darkened to an even deeper shade of red.

"I-I'm not saying that I don't enjoy this." Alfred swallowed, trying (and failing) to hold back the sounds that Arthur was provoking with those delicate movements of his hand that felt fucking amazing and he really didn't want to stop but knew that they should. "Just that this isn't the best time, or place."

Arthur nodded, and he stilled. He remained silent for a few, drawn-out seconds, before asking so innocently, so non-chalantly. "Want me to give you a blowjob under the bleachers?"

Alfred's eyes widened as he blurted out, "Fuck yes."


Leaning against a support beam, Alfred sighed. He had zipped his pants back up, rustled his hair, and generally tried to look presentable enough for people to not automatically assume he had been getting it on in the janitor's closet. Arthur rested his head on Alfred's lap, and Alfred watched him curiously.

"Hey Artie, I have a question."

Arthur, looking vaguely annoyed by the nickname, but willing to bypass the frustration at the moment, shrugged. "Yeah?"

Biting on his lip, Alfred muttered. "Whenever we do anything like… well, like that, you don't let me do anything to you. I mean, I've seen you shirtless before, but you've never taken off your boxers, or your pants even." Alfred paused when he felt Arthur tense up. "I feel like it's something we should talk about."

"Well it isn't." Arthur sniffed, looking away.

Groaning, Alfred rolled his eyes. "Seriously? You constantly spew shit about having a well-built emotional relationship, embracing your flaws, not hiding things from each other, but when it applies to you you're just going to brush it off like it's nothing?"

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows and gave Alfred an angered look. "Yeah, I am, and now I'm going to ask you to kindly fuck off when you don't know what you're talking about."

Alfred scoffed. "Oh, of course. You're allowed to invade my privacy, bug me about what I eat, how much sleep I get, and how much I work out. Even when I'm doing okay, you're allowed to worry about me. But I show the smallest amount of concern about an ongoing issue and you act like I just fucking nuked you."

"Why do you need to know? I suppose this entire time you've just wanted to get into my pants? That's bloody fantastic, thank you for telling me now, instead of waiting until we've been in a serious, long-term relationship to let me know! It's greatly appreciated!" Arthur stood, turning away from Alfred and walking to the gap between the bleachers.

Stuttering, Alfred stood, watching Arthur walk away. "You know that's not what I said, and it's definitely not what I meant." When Arthur was bending down to get out of the bleachers, Alfred raced towards him. "I just want to make you happy, okay? I want to show you the same love that you show me."

Arthur paused. "Fuck off, Jones. I never asked for it."


Being the child of a teacher at your school gives you unspoken privileges, and having two parents (or in this case, parental guardians) as teachers makes them the ultimate power couple. Most teachers don't give a shit about them skipping out on class, but the ones that regularly would just let it slide, because Matthew and Francis are both petty and will mess with you, your family, and your family's cow if you mess with Alfred or Arthur.

In those regards I can imagine them missing a lot of class, because of mental/physical health and a ton of shenanigans. This does include skipping class. I like to imagine that the two used to skip classes they didn't like so they could make out under the bleachers. Is that just me?

Also, that ending with Arthur! All will be explained in the next chapter. If you have any idea of what it could be that got his panties in a twist, either leave it in a review or PM it to me, because I love hearing from you cabbage path kids.

Ta-ta!