I meant to have a longer epilogue, but I can't write something that long in the state I'm in. I'm tired of this AU, and I'm sorry for the poor quality. I should know better.
Onto the epilogue. Feel free to ask clarification for questions, because this is the last part and questions will have to run through me.
"I don't think they're going to pick a freshman president. Why not just run for student congress?" Arthur shut his history book and dropped it on the floor beside his bed. "They like the guy they have now, and you're relatively… unknown."
Alfred lay back on Arthur's bed and stared at the ceiling. The walls in Arthur's dorm room were off-white and the heater by the window clattered noisily when it turned on. Alfred kicked it and Arthur spun his chair around.
"Do you really need to do that every time? You're probably making it worse."
"Why can't we hang out in my room?" Alfred kicked the heater again and Arthur hit him in the shoulder. "We don't have that."
"Your room is always filled with a dozen people," Arthur shrugged, "while my roommate never comes back from his girlfriend's. Anyways, back to what we were talking about."
"I was prez in high school, I can be prez here, too." Alfred grabbed one of the pillows and threw it at Arthur.
Arthur grabbed at the pillow quickly when it hit him in the face, and he frowned at Alfred. "No one's looking into your high school records for eligibility issues." He set the pillow down on his lap and tried to think of a way to approach the issue. "It's just that you're new."
"Everyone saw me on the football field. They know me."
"There are over fifty players on the team. You might not stand out as well as you think."
"Like how you stand out in soccer? I saw those girls attack yo-"
Arthur grabbed his pillow and thrust it in Alfred's face before he could continue. Alfred grabbed at Arthur's hands and pulled them apart so he could push the pillow away.
"That was a simple misunderstanding," Arthur said sternly.
"Really? 'Cause they were all swoony-eyed when they found out you had an accent, too."
Arthur pushed the pillow back down and left his chair. He pressed his knee down on the bed to get some leverage, but leaned too far forward. Alfred managed to upend him with a jerk, and they both ended up sprawled over the bedspread with the pillow between them.
"If they were interested in my accent, then Heracles would have a following as well!"
"But no one can understand Heracles' accent."
"Does that matter?"
Alfred shrugged and grabbed the pillow he tossed it off the bed behind him and Arthur sat up. He reached past him to grab the pillow from the floor, but Alfred wrapped his arms around his waist and held him in place.
"Alfred, let go."
"Don't want to."
Alfred tightened his grip and pulled Arthur closer. "Why're you acting so uptight?"
"You brought up the election, why are you avoiding it now?"
"You're distracting me."
"Bullshit." Arthur pushed Alfred away and climbed off the bed. "You're not tricking me into being your campaign manager. You might like the idea of president, but you're not winning against the current guy. You're too new for that."
Alfred grumbled under his breath and aimed another kick at the heater, failing to hit it when Arthur grabbed his leg. "Why're you such a buzzkill?"
"Because you're going to break the heater and I'm going to have to pay for it."
"If you'd roomed with me like I wanted, there wouldn't be a heater to beak."
Arthur crossed his arms. "Incoming freshman stay with freshman. They mix later."
"You have to be my roommate next year." Alfred watched while Arthur bent and snatched up the pillow from the floor. "We can have all kinds of sex and smoke pot and do drugs and all kinds of gay stuff."
Arthur choked. He turned bright red and Alfred grabbed the pillow from him. "Don't you have homework?" Arthur demanded when he sat back down at his desk and turned away from Alfred.
"I can do it later." Alfred grinned. "After the crazy sex and all."
Alfred left shortly after, possibly annoyed that he still kept the title of "virgin." Arthur didn't have any pity for him, as he needed to finish a report and Alfred's repeated taunts of sex and/or snuggles weren't helping.
Alfred's recent fascination with sex was probably understandable. It wasn't a mystery what happened in Alfred's room when Alfred was with Arthur, and his roommate had it to himself (and one of his many hook-ups). It also wasn't a mystery where Arthur's roommate always was. He was new to the college scene, and while high school had been host to many stories of sexual discovery, college was much blunter about it. Men and women bragged about having sex, people had it whenever they had an empty dorm room to themselves, and it was a casual thing for most.
There may have been more pressure to get down and dirty in high school, but the fact that there was little or no pressure in college made it more appealing.
Not that Arthur really cared. There was a time and place for everything, and he wasn't sure he wanted to have sex with Alfred in a place where anyone could walk in on them.
Arthur sighed and laid his arms on his desk. He rested his chin on them and shut his eyes. He idly wondered if Alfred would hate him for refusing, and entertained the idea that it would lead to a break-up and years of awkwardly avoiding each other. Three years before, he probably would have gotten lost in the fantasy and hidden himself away. The current-Arthur, however, could separate the worst case scenario from reality and avoid sinking into the pit.
There were still times that Arthur wasn't able to fully separate himself from the worst cases. It had been hard adapting to the new people in college, trying to make friends with complete strangers and trying to keep the relationships he had almost lost so many times back home. It had felt like juggling two lives, and while Arthur hated to admit that Alfred's admittance to the same college helped, it did. There was less juggling and finally someone that could give him a hand when he needed it.
Alfred understood. Alfred had been there for Arthur's worst, and while Arthur hated to think that he could sink that low again, Alfred was there (when he wasn't taunting Arthur about his supposed fangirls).
Arthur had fears. He feared that he would relapse. He feared that he would sink low enough to need the medication he had left behind years before. He feared that he would be too clingy and smother Alfred by relying on him and using him as a crutch.
They probably weren't normal fears, but they were common. They were fears he could deal with and fight to avoid. They were fears that brought about a little bit of hope.
Arthur was happy. He had hope. He couldn't see his future, but he was sure he had one.
As long as he finished his paper and passed.