Yeah, so, this plot bunny showed up and totally started tearing up my sheets and refused to leave until I typed up this story. Gotta watch out for those dastardly creatures. Just one thing, the section with all italics is a flashback. Other than that, enjoy!
Summary: Alfred is in love with Matthew. Matthew is oblivious. After one drunken night, Alfred regrets his loss of control and hopes Matthew will never find out. Too bad Matthew actually wants to find the person he slept with.
Parings: Eventual Alfred/Matthew, others TBA
Warnings: AU (yes), language, slash, OOCness
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership.
"And I saddle up my horse. And I ride into the city. I make a lot of noise."
The cell phone, that was once sitting quietly and innocently on the nightstand, began to flash and vibrate, the incessant song shrilling from its tiny speaker. The sole occupant on the bed groaned and burrowed deeper into his cocoon of blankets, held tight to the last vestiges of sleep and tried to ignore whoever was calling.
"Save a horse, ride a cowboy!!!"
Muffled curses rose from the lump on the bed before the young man dug out of his covers and grabbed the phone. With golden curls sticking out in all directions (one particularly rebellious one hung between his eyes) and bleary violet eyes, the man flipped open the phone and snarled, "I hate you."
"Well, good morning to you too!" Came the chipper response. "Like the new ringtone? I wanted to make sure you knew who it was without even looking at the screen. So do you like it? Huh, do you?"
"Alfred. It's," The blond squinted at his digital clock, " barely eight o'clock. You shouldn't even be up."
"Matt. Dude. I was up all night preparing."
With a sigh, Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose. He could tell Alfred was riding a caffeine high. Who knew how much coffee the other had consumed during the night? "Preparing for what?"
"The Zombie Apocalypse." It was said with such seriousness that Matthew could hear the capitalized words. The blond fell back on the bed with a soft grunt. It was too early for Alfred's insanity. Unfortunately, the other kept babbling on. "—So the underground bunker is stocked with enough supplies for at least six months. And bullets too. We need those, but we have to be careful. We have to kill the zombies with a single shot to the head. And then shoot them again. Double-tap. Can't be too careful, dude."
"Alfred. Try to get some sleep."
"But Matt! This is important! We need a plan for when the zombies invade! I mean, we can't just stay in the bunker all the time."
"Yeah, of course! Me (the hero) and you (my sidekick)! What? Did you think I'd leave my best friend and sidekick to have his brain eaten by zombies? No way! I'll save you before that happens!"
Matthew grinned softly. Alfred, despite being loud and annoying and generally obnoxious and an asshole at times, was well intentioned and fairly sweet.
"Oh and I'm in your kitchen. And you're out of chips." Matthew's smile tightened and he felt his eye twitch. "I got hungry. So, when're you gonna get out here and make me some pancakes?"
Never mind what he said. Alfred was an asshole.
Alfred watched Matthew standing at the stove, dressed in only a pair of crimson boxers, silently flipping pancakes. The other man had run out of his bedroom and began to scold him, saying call me beforehand, don't just sneak in, don't call before ten and don't mess with my phone, and how did you even get in because Gilbert ate the spare while drunk.
Alfred contritely listened and decided not to tell Matthew that he made spare copies of his apartment key months ago.
Luckily, the rant had lasted less than fifteen minutes and Alfred was thankful because Matthew could go on for hours (his current record was at three hours).
But now, after brushing his teeth, Matthew was refusing to speak to him for some reason. Instead, the other man concentrated on his task and ignored the other.
So Alfred was left to watch Matthew since nothing would be on TV.
Not that watching Matthew was so bad.
Sky blue eyes narrowed slightly behind glasses as they trailed over pale skin and a lithe body. Matthew was fairly tall but very slender, and didn't have the same muscle tone as his self but it never stopped the violet-eyed blond from playing (and completely dominating) at hockey. Light blond hair ended just below his ears and hung in waves around his face and clung to his neck while he cooked. Alfred's gaze began to drift lower, gliding over minutely shifting muscles covered by soft-looking skin and down to, quite possibly, the most amazing ass Alfred had ever seen on anyone. When he finally would kiss Matt, he would totally reach down and—
Alfred swallowed roughly and averted his gaze, feeling a hot blush rise against his face.
He totally had the hots for his best friend.
Not that this surprised him. He had been harboring a crush on the other since their school days. Even though he hadn't realized it at first (though some of their other friends had…), he always knew he had a bond with Matthew that he had never had with anyone else and doubted that he would. He had just known that the other boy was special and important to him and that he wanted to keep Matthew in his life as long as he could. Even at their first meeting, Alfred just knew.
Alfred whistled cheerfully, the frigid temperature not dimming his cheer in the least. It was the last day before winter break and tomorrow he'd be able to wake up after one and spend the entire day in his boxers, watching cartoons and eating hamburgers.
It would be awesome.
The sound of yelling tugged the blond out of his musing and he turned to see a group of students skating swiftly on the large campus pond. Apparently, it had completely frozen over and the group had taken advantage of that fact and started up a game of hockey.
Alfred paused and stood still to watch the game briefly. The players all seemed to be members of the hockey team because he could see Matthias and that creepy Communist guy out there. But suddenly a flash of gold caught his eye and he saw a single player dart out, puck in possession, and, in one sharp movement, swiftly scored. A round of cheers broke out along with a few grumbled curses as the player fist pumped.
The game seemed to slow after that and no fights seemed to be on the verge of breaking out, so Alfred felt himself becoming bored. Turning with a crunch on the fresh snow, he began to head back to the dorm.
However, luck wasn't on his side.
"Watch out!" Someone cried out.
Alfred looked over his shoulder, wondering who was yelling at who, when he caught sight of a black disk heading his way—
And then everything went dark.
"We should take him to the infirmary." A soft voice, tinted with worry, said.
"There is no need, Matvey. This one has a hard head."
"He's not responding Ivan!"
"Nah, he's waking up. Can you hear us, Jones?" That sounded like Matthias.
Alfred groaned and his eyes fluttered open.
"Are you okay?"
The face of whomever leaning over him slowly came into focus. The person, whose face was colored with concern, looked remarkably like him.
"Are you my long-lost twin?" He whispered, awe-struck.
His 'twin' looked confused for a moment and then said, hesitantly, "Maybe we should take him to the infirmary now. I think he has head trauma."
"No, he is just an idiot."
Alfred was too busy staring at his near doppelganger to respond to Ivan. Though there were some similarities, the differences were too many to ignore. The other boy's hair was a pale shade of gold and framed his face with messy waves whereas Alfred's hair was a darker shade and shorter. His eyes were a swirling mix of violet and shades of blue. The other's face was softer, lacking the sharp angles Alfred had. The other boy looked smaller too and had a quiet shyness about him. And he was kind of pretty…
"I'm Alfred." Said blond announced, holding out his hand to the blond. "Alfred Jones."
The blond looked surprised but then smiled warmly, grasping his hand. "Matthew Williams. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
The silence was starting to grate on Alfred. He was starting to think Matthew was angry with him.
"Matt." No answer. "Mattie." Alfred tried again in a wheedling tone. The only response he got was the sound of a pancake being moved to a plate. "Are you mad?"
"No." Matthew said, sighing. Pouring some batter into the pan, he grabbed the plate of pancakes and left the stove. Coming to a stop in front of the table, he set them down in front of Alfred. He then moved back to the stove to make sure the pancake didn't burn.
"Yes, you are." Alfred sulked, reaching for the bottle of maple syrup that always stood on Matthew's kitchen table. "I can tell you know."
Matthew refrained from reminding Alfred that he still thought 'reading the atmosphere' was the title of a perpetually sold out book.
"Is this about the chips?"
"No, Al, this is not about the chips. This isn't about anything. I'm not angry." Was the flat response Matthew gave.
"You are too angry!" Alfred argued. "I'm sorry for whatever I did. Just don't be mad at me." He added in a softer voice, "I don't want you to be mad at me."
Matthew's shoulders slumped and he exhaled softly. "Al, I'm not mad. I promise."
"So we're not fighting right? And you're definitely not mad."
Matthew turned the oven off and brought a fresh plate for himself to the table. He smiled gently at Alfred and said, "No, we're not fighting. And I am definitely not mad."
Alfred felt his heart flutter at the warm smile directed at him and, without Matthew asking, he passed the syrup.
The smile he got for that was more beautiful that sunrises and sunsets and free french-fries combined. He felt his breath catch in his throat.
The slightly domestic scene continued in companionable silence for a few minutes before Alfred spoke up again. "Oh, and by the way, this is your favorite syrup right?"
Matthew, poised to eat another mouthful of pancake, nodded.
Alfred grinned. "Awesome! Because I have at least a year's supply stocked in the bunker."
Violet eyes widened and shimmered with happiness. Matthew felt his heart swell with joy and, laughingly, he told Alfred, "And Arthur thinks you can't plan ahead. You're the best, Al."
Alfred watched as Matthew finished off his breakfast with a cheerful grin and the darker haired blond wanted nothing more than to pull the other close and kiss him and never let him go.
Oh sweet apple pie and Reagan, he was definitely in love.
I am not giving Alfred a specific political orientation. I just think of Stephen Colbert and that dad from American Dad when I think of Alfred. -shot- But yes, that was that. I did have fun writing this. And so I hope people enjoyed this. Let me know how you all feel!