Title: "And So The World Conspired Against Us"
Rating: M for language and sexually explicit dialogue.
Author's Notes: I loved the idea of this when I wrote it. Plus, I want to give Alfred's POV a try since I do Arthur's so much. Ya'll can tell me which one you like better. Personally I can't decide. This was written for a friend who wanted me writing about something cheesy but also a little funny. I tried my best…
Also, since America isn't super close to any countries in canon, I just stuck Alfred with the upperclassmen in this like Francis, Antonio, etc. I think he would hang with people like that anyway. And Alfred liking Katyusha.. Well, I also think he would go for the much older, much more experienced, way out of his league busty girls. Most guys would. Lol Very long oneshot.
To say that I didn't expect that dweeb Arthur Kirkland to glare at me when he walked into Biology on Monday would've been a lie. Actually, I would've been offended if he hadn't. So I returned the sentiment and glared back, hunching over my spot at the table in the front of the room, sticking my tongue out at him. He bristled, looking surprised for some reason (come on, he knew that was coming), and flipped me the bird with the ugliest scowl I've ever seen. I pulled my eyelids down and made a face as he walked past me towards his group table stationed in the back.
Arthur growled and muttered something under his breath, trying to ignore (to the best of his abilities) all the eyes on him. Well, I guess the whole room wasn't staring. Half were staring at me, fyi. But I'd figure at least majority of the people being bored and waiting for the teacher glanced up. I, on the other hand, tried not to pay attention, which was pretty hard to do if I was honest. Seriously. I mean, before he walked in the room my face was all warm and I was fidgeting and my palms were leaving sweat marks against the table.
People were staring at me too.
So I knew exactly what Arthur was going through. Except, actually, mine may have been worse. Arthur's kind of friends were the quiet type. Mine were more of the 'make fun of you until you develop a complex or cry yourself to sleep' type.
I was horribly reminded of this when the teacher finally walked in and announced lab partners. Of flippin' course she would pair me and Charlie Brows over there up today of all days. It was worse when my friends nudged me as I stiffened, everybody snickering, making me grit my teeth and become red in the face. Or maybe it just sounded like everyone because even one person laughing at my misfortune was enough to get my blood boiling.
I reluctantly slung my backpack over my shoulder and moved to my new seat at the back and glared at him from the corner of my eyes. He watched as I slumped over with a dejected pout, placing my chin in my palm and bitterly tearing at the instructions left on each table. He must've noticed a few boys twist around in their chairs up front to grin back at us because I practically heard him hiss.
We were branded the two fags seemingly overnight.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I hadn't heard Arthur talking. "Get the microscope slides. Are you deaf of just plain stupid?" he demanded after our teacher walked us through the procedure. Whoops.
"You tell me. You're the expert," I said sarcastically, sitting up to give him a grim but very smug smile.
Arthur's face got even sourer. He looked like Renee Zellweger or something; you know, like he just ate a box of lemons and his face scrunched up all crinkly. Maybe this was where they coined the term 'lemon head'. His blonde hair didn't help at all, but now I was getting off subject.
"Just get them," he snapped, leaning away from me. "You don't need to be a smartass every time someone asks you to do something."
"Oh, so now I'm smart? Make up your mind already, dude. You can't be indecisive forever. Unless you lean both ways or something?" I added as I hopped down from my stool, frowning at him. He took the jab I was insinuating and turned livid, pulling out something from his backpack and chucking it at my head when I was turned. Coward.
"Oww!" I yelped, rubbing furiously at my head when I turned to meet his glare. "What the fuck was that for?"
"You have no right to say that to me. I am as straight as an arrow!" he protested.
I vaguely noticed the table next to us eavesdropping but tried my hardest to push them out of my thoughts. "Yeah, if you bend it in half and make a boomerang…" I muttered. Stupid Arthur and his ridiculously good super hearing. He was in my face a second later with a hushed voice and finger pointed threateningly under my chin.
"You're the one who kissed me," he reminded with a warning, no playfulness behind his eyes whatsoever.
"That was an accident!" I blurted, unable to really be quiet myself. Arthur noticed too and took a step back when I guess he saw another pair of eyes watching quietly. "I thought you were someone else. Plus, I couldn't see a damn thing! You're the one who didn't pull away!"
"I was in shock!" Arthur retorted, eyes wide and looking terrified that we were having this conversation so loud and in public. At school.
I laughed. "Yeheah right. You're just mad because you had to have a straight guy out you."
"I'm not gay! You are," he growled.
By this point I wasn't sure how many people were looking at us. I'm pretty sure if I did I would've shrunken down and quietly did my work. But alas, the universe hated me.
"How can I be gay? I thought you were a girl when I touched you." That sounded so much better in my head. Out in the real world it gave me the Goosebumps.
"And yet you can't tell the difference between a man's face and a woman's," he smirked confidently. I sputtered. What an asshole!
"I… That's not – you don't even know what you're talking… n-not cool, dude!" I argued, face hot. I couldn't say what I wanted to because Katyusha was sitting right fuckin' there. I may have been insensitive at times, but not when I could help it. Especially not to a girl.
So I did the only logical thing I could do and calmly folded my arms, gripping my sweatshirt until my knuckles turned white. I scoffed and looked away. "Even if I did swing that way, I'm sure I could do a lot better than you."
It was only quiet for three seconds before a fist nearly broke my jaw and I was on the floor, some wiry little body on top of me throwing blows. Over the rattling of my teeth and the anger fizzling behind my ears as I threw my own punches back, I could distantly hear some students shriek and the teacher call at us to stop. We were pulled away from each other kicking and fighting the whole way by some other students as our teacher darted forward with a concerned frown.
"Fuck you!" Arthur screamed at me, blood running down his forehead and over his eyebrow. I would've thought that huge thing would've acted like a sponge and soaked it all up, but it didn't. It just let it run into his bruised eye and swelling cheek.
"You would like that, wouldn't you!" I yelled back, gagging on the taste of iron in my mouth. Little butthole practically chipped a tooth. Ah, shit. At that comment he got enough energy to pry himself loose and lunge at me again.
"Boys, stop this immediately! No fighting on school grounds!"
… Hm. Perhaps I should back up a bit. You know, to where this would make sense. I guess it all started back at a party on Saturday. The night my unblemished sexuality was still intact with the public.
"So spin him seven times, oui?" Francis ordered with an amused tint to his voice to Antonio. I didn't care so much this time because I was already blindfolded, his hands on my shoulders.
We were in the middle of a game called 'lucky or unlucky'. It was a simple game where a single person was blindfolded and thrown into the center of a ring of people. After they were spun around they had to wander to someone and plant a kiss on them. Hopefully you didn't nab some cow and get laughed at, but it was always the luck of the draw. Personally, my whole goal for playing this game was to get a chance to suck some face from that goliath Ivan's sister, Katyusha.
I peeked up from under the hem of the blindfold at the bodaciously blessed girl standing off to my right. She looked good even in the dim lighting of Gilbert's overcrowded living room. My fingers twitched at my sides as my heart thudded quicker in my chest. Only one word came to mind as I ran my eyes over her very thoroughly.
Francis's face came too close and blocked my view. He tutted and wagged his finger mischievously at me. "Ah, ah, ah. No peeking, mon ami."
And so I began to spin. The sounds of the rumbling music and the chatter and laughter and vomiting all blurred into one big noise. With my eyes closed I could focus more on the smells of sweat and alcohol and perfume and cologne all mixed into a cocktail of assorted bodies. Gilbert always threw the best, most uninhibited parties around, much to the discontent of his brother. Ludwig always looked about ready to bust a nut whenever Gilbert told people at school of an upcoming party at their place. Poor guy. Oh well, you live, you learn with a bro like Gilbert.
I was released with a push and stumbled, trying not to face plant as people laughed at me. When I caught my balance I looked around (though it didn't really work) and grinned, trying to pinpoint the voices in the giggles of girls around me. Which one sounded the most Russian?
"Who's going to be the lucky lady to get to kiss a stud like myself?" I joked. Good, the more giggles, the easier this would be for me. Plus, I needed any advantage I could. Most people here were already buzzed and it was getting hard to think straight. I stumbled around the circle and made my best guess in the direction where I thought she would be.
It was now or never.
I reached out and tripped over my foot, bumping into a couple of soft things before I grasped a solid pair of shoulders. My fingers flexed and it was soft. Immediately her lips (among other things) popped into my mind's eye and that was all she wrote. My lips were on hers faster than Flash himself could move.
And it was soft. The lips, anyway. Soft and smooth and so much better than I thought they'd be. Well, I guessed they would be plumper since she had very pouty lips, a trait good girls possessed. But they were still very good as I leaned in and dug my fingers into her hair. She stiffened then, and in my alcohol induced stupor I was literally too stupid to realize how much scragglier and shorter the haircut was. But one wasn't really clear in thought while tongue-wrestling the hottest girl in school.
The sudden drop in volume in the nearby vicinity should've also been another clue.
It sounded corny, but it was one of those rare toe-curling feelings where electricity would shoot up the spine and fog the brain.
My cheek rubbed against hers as I pulled back, wincing slightly. "Mmm…" I murmured, licking the lingering taste from the corner of my mouth thoughtfully. "Katyusha, did you forget to shave this morning or something?"
I felt a hand on my shoulder again, Francis's subdued, horror-struck voice reaching my ears as he tried to coax me back. "A-Alfred… Oh ma qualité…"
I wobbled on weak knees for a few seconds before looking over my shoulder to grin at him, pulling up the blindfold to see again. "H-how was that?" I laughed. His eyes were wide and eyebrows knit with concern. Looking back at it now I should've known that he was debating whether or not to let me turn around and see the damage. But at his silence, the circle's silence under the bass of the stereo, and Katyusha standing behind Francis with her hand over her mouth in-between the same girls she'd been between when we started the game, my curiosity peaked.
I slowly turned back around to see the circle broken. It must've happened when I tripped. That would explain bumping into a few soft things and stumbling out.
My own eyes slowly widened as I stared back into the equally horrified face of Arthur Kirkland, the drink in his hand slipping from numb fingers onto the carpet. His mouth hung open like he just couldn't believe what he'd witnessed. Or experienced. Oh, crap.
I took a step back when seeing the back of his hair more tussled than normal, his lips bruised and glistening in the afterglow only a French kiss could make.
I felt myself pale and my heart stopped. No kidding. It literally stopped and I felt like I was going to be sick.
In that simultaneous instant, I ralfed into the potted plant, Arthur finally gaining mobility once more and stuffing a pile of napkins against his tongue. It didn't matter who voiced it because I'm sure we were both thinking it.
"Unacceptable behavior," I mimicked mockingly. "Fighting is prohibited, blah blah blah. Apologize –" I growled and stomped my foot. "He should apologize to me! He ruined my life! Who the hell just stands there and lets a dude kiss him? Huh? Huh?" I demanded as I vented to my neighbor's dog. It just stared with its one good eye before continuing licking its privates.
That sure made me feel a whole lot better.
I scowled and stormed to my house, face feeling swollen and painful and God dangit, I hated Arthur Kirkland!
The universe was a funny thing. No, wait. I used the wrong word. I meant an ass. The universe was an ass bigger than any ass. It belonged on that island in "Pinocchio" with all the donkey-boys, for crying out loud! But nobody could fight the universe. I even knew that was impossible.
Still, it couldn't stop me from trying.
It was playing hard ball, though, and didn't like resisters. The situation with Arthur would've blown over at school eventually. People weren't so callous as to let this continue on. We obviously had no feelings of affection towards each other, so we would only experience playful teasing at our mortification. But that was where the universe came into play again.
And it decided to tell the world that Arthur Kirkland and I were blossoming lovers in a rainbow village.
It had been two weeks after the 'bottle of bleach baptism night' as I deemed it, when the universe decided to torture me again. This time, the stage was the cafeteria.
I had been minding my own business as I chatted with my friends in the lunch line, talking about the basketball game on television last night. I paid for my cinnamon bun and soda with chips and left the line, following after Antonio and Gilbert as they scouted out a table. It was nice that life was going back to normal after I basically mouth raped another guy. I still mentally cringed whenever I saw potted plants.
Gilbert stopped and elbowed me in the side with a cackle. I blinked at him in confusion as he pointed across the room. I looked up and stiffened when seeing Katyusha with her siblings eating in the corner of the cafeteria. Even though she was a senior she still hung out with us juniors.
"There's your girlfriend," he snickered.
I swatted him away. "Get real. That ain't funny." I glared when Antonio laughed and looked away with a whistle. "It ain't!"
"I disagree, squirt," Gilbert taunted, ruffling my hair to get my boxers in bunch. It worked. "I still wish I could've seen it. You probably pissed yourself!" he laughed.
I felt my face heating up as I hunkered into my shoulders, fingers gripping tightly onto my lunch tray. He didn't need to know he was a little right about that part. "Well wouldn't you if you kissed… if you…" I felt queasy again.
Antonio twirled around and started walking backwards while still talking. "It wasn't so bad. You just threw up and moaned a little."
"Gnnnhh…" I grit my teeth and groaned in annoyance, temperature in the room spiking. "I didn't moan."
"You weren't even there, Gilbert!" I snapped and turned on him with a frown. "Besides, it's not like I enjoyed it. I brushed my tongue with steel wool right afterwards. And I'm never coming to your parties again!"
Gilbert got a weird look on his face before wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "Aw, don't be that way. Just because you made some closet queer cream his pants doesn't mean–"
"He's not – I mean, he didn't cream his–" I started before, for some reason, my footing slipped. I didn't notice the puddle of juice on the floor until the last minute when my spine curved, body trying to gain equilibrium again. I cursed and fell forward, knocking my forehead against the side of a table and falling face first into something soft.
I distantly felt the knees of my jeans getting wet as I crouched on the ground, my head pounding. Fuck, that hurt. Antonio grabbed my arm and tried to help me up, but there was something different about the way he and Gilbert were silent. I winced and tried to sit up, wiping at something on my cheek when my lunch tray fell to the floor, empty.
I was greeted with black fabric at point blank range. It was warm and solid and very firm under my hands. I glanced down and saw my hands on, what I could tell now were thighs; thighs of the one person I wished would go on London Bridge when it was falling down, falling down, falling down.
It was a terrible feeling when looking up rigidly, and very reluctantly, at Arthur who was watching me with large eyes as I was hunched over his lap, the glaze from my cinnamon bun smeared against my face and the material of his pants in his crotchage area. The cafeteria grew from a roar to a whisper at the second implicative situation of me with Arthur Kirkland. His lips parted in something, perhaps to say something down to my equally petrified face, but they just hung there like that. I really hoped this image wasn't going to burn into my eyes.
And then Gilbert laughed, breaking the thread of silence.
My head darted up and I saw people start talking again, continuously glancing at us while I was still on the ground hunched in-between a pair of legs with sugar and glaze and cream on my face. No…
No! Not again! Not with him again! I only had enough time to look back at Arthur, whose face pallor was painted in the most vibrant shade of red, before he glared daggers at me.
His shoe embedded into my ribcage and I fell into a coughing fit.
"Get away from me!"
"You owe me my teenage-hood back! Give it back!"
"I don't even know what you're talking about! Stay away!"
"I hate you!"
"I hate you, too!"
I glared in a huffing, puffing fit behind the school bleachers. PE had started twenty minutes ago and they were ordered to run around the track for warm ups. That's when I saw Arthur mixed in with the bunch as I ditched my math class. I think it was just because of the cafeteria incident that had spiraled out of control a few days ago that I suddenly got the urge to yell at him. So I had stormed over to the bleachers and latched onto him with all my strength. Arthur barely had a chance to respond when he was pulled with me under the bleachers in his black exercise shorts and gray shirt.
The pitter-patter of sneakers against the track could be heard behind him, but he didn't move. He just stayed there glaring at me like I was doing to him. He folded his arms arrogantly and snorted.
"You're the one who started this whole mess–"
"Yes," he all but yelled. "First you unjustly snog me, then you stage that… that embarrassing event in the cafeteria!"
"Into my groin?"
I felt my hands clench at my sides when warmth slithered up my neck. He was acting just like everyone else. I didn't need to prove anything to him. I was straight, damnit!
"It was just an unfortunate coincidence, is all," I grumbled, trying to keep from attracting attention. That was the last thing I needed.
He scoffed and I snarled.
"Do you want me to pound you?"
Arthur raised his eyebrows suggestively, clearly not able to mask the surprise still evident. I slapped my hand to my face and felt like my stomach was a punching bag to a mob of butterflies.
"That's obviously not what I meant. If anything, that's the opposite of what I want to do to you."
"Then what do you want to do to me?" Arthur asked, something murky behind his skeptical eyes. I glanced briefly at him, trying to get what was going on in that pumpkin sized head of his. "Because apparently all you've done is assault me in every meaning of the word."
At the mention of it I peered at the faded scrape hidden beneath the hem of his scraggly hairline. Right… I kicked his ass that one day and got us both detention.
"You started that fight, not me."
"But you started that whole scene at the party and in front of our schoolmates. That is much worse."
"Hey, be thankful that I didn't vomit from kissing someone like you!" I retorted, relishing the look of displeasure on Arthur's face.
"You did hurl!"
"Then…" I tried to think of a super witty comeback. I looked around and noticed that the other students were done with their laps and now started the kickball game. I snapped my fingers and pointed dramatically in an accusing manner at him. "Then why do you sound offended? Huh? A straight person would be offended if the person who played tonsil hockey with them didn't throw up!"
"Coming from the letch who tried to give me a blowjob in front of the entire school!" Arthur practically shrieked. I was hoping his face was red because of anger. Wait… He did have sharp nails. Maybe I didn't want him to be red from anger. I still remembered back to when he beat the shit out of me in Biology. B-but not because anything else!
"A likely story!"
My fingers fisted in his shirt and pulled him to eyelevel in split second, breath short and irritated as it streamed out my nostrils and onto his face. Arthur tensed for a moment before remaining placid, sharp green eyes meeting my frustrated gaze head-on. He really was tiny when I finally noticed. Everything about him was tinier than me. But he still retained that masculine aura. I felt myself sneer. That didn't comfort me one bit. I released him with a growl and tossed him away. He stumbled but caught himself, dusting off his shirt like I had germs or something.
"Why did you have to be standing there?" I mumbled, feeling trapped. If only I could've just kissed Katyusha, the human utter, and ended happily ever after. Instead I kissed the ugly toad and didn't get a happy ending at all. I just got called a homo and could mark kissing a dude off my bucket list (not that it was there to begin with).
"In the circleee…" I bemoaned. Arthur blinked in curiosity for a second before rubbing at the back of his neck, looking ashamed.
"I wanted to see what was going on," he admitted lamely.
Ha. Jerk. I knew it was his fault.
I swallowed the heavy ball in the back of my throat before running my eyes over Arthur. He tensed somewhat and started to fidget, looking guarded. "I don't like boys that way."
"… Neither do I," he admitted after a long moment.
I sighed and ran my hands painfully through my hair. With another huff, I cracked my neck and frowned at him. "Can we make a deal to stay away from each other until graduation?" Arthur seemed to think about this for a moment before relaxing. He stuck his hand out.
I narrowed my eyes nervously at the extended appendage, wanting to avoid any other instance of contact between the two of us. He blinked before looking away quickly and pulling it back. Right. Without another glance I turned and stuffed my hands into my pockets, intending on leaving back to sit behind the science building.
Arthur followed after me, probably intent on going back to his PE class. He glanced down and noticed that my shirt was rumpled and a little dirty on the bottom from when I was sitting on the ground. Stupid kid had to be an idiot and politely tried to remove the leaf stuck there.
"Ah- Alfred, you have something on your–"
"Huh?" I asked, not really wanting to talk to him anymore, when I stopped. Arthur bumped into me and that's when I felt it as he reached to brush the leaf off. I hated guys who were too gentlemanly to leave a situation alone. Especially when the universe was making fun of him.
The full-on palm cupping my ass-cheek thing sent a violent shiver down my spine. I literally felt his fingers curl into a firm cupping that was so unnecessary for brushing off dirt. I looked down at him like something laid eggs on his face. Arthur gasped, scuttling away and holding out his hand, as if he didn't know what to do with it.
"That was… It was an accident. I was trying to – it wasn't on purpose you know… It's–" Arthur stopped, pausing and glancing down at his hand. He then proceeded to look at me with a thoughtful expression before admitting, "Your glutes are surprisingly solid. Do you work o-"
I guess karma had it coming to him when that kickball slammed into the back of his head.
Thank God he didn't finish that disturbingly unsettling sentence because I honestly didn't know how I would've reacted to something like that.
"So you don't like it in the behind?"
"No," I sighed dejectedly.
"No back door open policy?"
"Dora's not allowed to explore?"
"You're not 'anal' retentive?" A snicker.
"No tossing salad at the–"
"I said shut up!" I swung my backpack at Francis, missing by a hair as the older boy easily dodged. I knew he was just joking with me, but that still didn't make me feel any better. Not when Arthur's face popped into my mind at any gay connotation mentioned since that night at Gilbert's party. It was like the word 'gay' was associated with Arthur in my brain. Which unfortunately was accompanied by myself at any implication, no matter how false.
"Please, Alfred, lower your voice. We are in public," he smiled coyly at me and I bit the inside of my cheek. Right. Screaming in a mall would probably attract a lot of attention with the echoing and stuff. I zipped my lips and sat back in my seat, wiggling around to get comfortable.
"I am just teasing you, mon ami."
I groaned weakly in retaliation, mind distracted and somewhere else entirely. Francis noticed this and stirred his straw in his Orange Julius before taking a thoughtful sip.
"Cat got your tongue?"
Sometimes I wondered how Francis could put up with people like me. It was more like he was babysitting, really. Then again, he did like to bother people like Arthur, too. Something jolted inside my chest at Arthur's name becoming apparently tattooed on my brain and I buried my face in my arms against the table.
Francis continued to drink in silence. After a long hush, he asked," Have you become constipated recently, by chance?"
"What?" Even though it was muffled, the confusion was still clear.
"You have been walking around with a stony expression on for weeks. It's très surprenant."
"I'm not constipated."
I didn't say anything because I truthfully didn't know. It was sexually related… right? I didn't know. It had something to do with Arthur and every horrible encounter we had since that party months ago. We tripped a lot around each other (like something was doing it on purpose) and ended up in compromising situations, hands and mouths where they probably shouldn't have been. I knew more contours of that Brit's body than I ever wanted to in my whole life. Words slipping up were also rampant between the two of us as well, things easily misconstrued to people who believed we were gay. I was nervous since that number was growing every day.
But it was okay. Because…
… Because I was straight? No. Because I was straight…?
Fuck that question mark!
"Hm… It is the boy blessed with ample eyebrows, no?"
I finally looked up at my friend who was regarding me with an annoying twinkle behind his eyes. How did he know that? Oh. Duh. It was really obvious, huh? Especially because Arthur and I now flew into a panic anytime we saw each other, keeping as much distance as possible.
This was getting hard to ignore.
"I will take that as a yes."
"I don't do boys," I protested. Francis chuckled at me.
"I never said that you did."
"It's smeared on your face, perv."
"It is? I'm sorry." He reached over and dabbed at his face with a napkin. "Better?"
I hunkered in the safety of my arms once more as Francis went back to drinking. He watched the different girls across the food court, and I'm pretty sure I even caught him checking out a guy or two, before he decided to address my depressing situation. "Do you like bo-"
"What about Arthur?"
My head shot up. "I just said that I didn't."
Francis wagged his finger at me. "I asked if you liked Arthur, not if you liked boys."
"… That's the same thing. Arthur is a boy."
Francis hummed into his cup and leaned back in his chair. "A distinction without a difference, mon ami." He didn't give me time to express my confusion before continuing on. "Being male or female is an adjective; a characteristic to describe a human being. That is not what they solely are. You do not like boys as a whole. But what about just Arthur?"
I had no idea what he was talking about as he smirked at me and flipped his hair. He needed a haircut; hippy. I grumbled and stubbornly placed my hand in my palm. "I don't like Arthur."
Francis raised an eyebrow as he finished off his drink. He placed it down and leaned close to my face, enough to make my nose crinkle up and skin feel all itchy. It made me feel queasy for a bad reason. He placed his hand on my head and ignored my glare, slowly glancing up over me at something. He smiled pleasantly.
My knees clanged into the bottom of the table as I shot up in my chair, twisting around with a nervous heartbeat pounding beneath my skin. I looked around behind me but didn't catch hide nor hair of Arthur. When I turned back around and glared at Francis, he only smiled. "He's not here," I argued.
"And yet look at your reaction."
I cautiously looked down at myself, twitchy and warm, my sweaty hands leaving prints on the table before fading like a ghost. Francis chuckled with mirth in his eyes. "You didn't even so much as bat an eyelash when I was close to you, yet you are this way at merely the mention of another's name."
Why did the world seem suddenly smaller? A fretful feeling harbored and burrowed down into me as my head spun with this horrible awakening.
"A distinction without a difference."
I stood outside of Arthur's door and gave three hardy knocks. I felt like shit and probably looked like it, too. Francis's words rung in my head all weekend like a mantra and I couldn't get them out. I wasn't gay…
But then Arthur would pop up, and I'd remember that look on his face while I was between his legs in the cafeteria. I shivered. Well, maybe it wasn't written in stone… No! I shook my head stubbornly. I was straight. I liked chicks. Boobs. Vaginas. Long flowing hair–
That solid grasp of a wide hand against my ass under the privacy of the bleachers. Another tremble rocked my body and weakened my knees.
Fuck… Okay, so maybe I wasn't gay and wasn't straight. I could've been somewhere in-between, right? That gray area. I sniffed and felt like crying. I didn't want to be in the gray area. Was this what all those homo kids felt on the television when they found out they were gay – I meant gray! Gray area, gray area.
I heard the door unlock and quickly braced myself, gripping the paper in my hands tighter. This was now or never. I would find out right now if I was a solid color, gray, or a rainbow child. My heart thundered in my temples as I waited impatiently with pursed lips for that door to open sesame.
Hurry up. I wanted to get this over with... Aha!
Arthur's face came into view as he pushed the door open. He blinked a couple of times, obviously surprised at seeing me here. We weren't friends. We didn't talk. And other than the recent events of accidental groping and word molestations, we never affiliated with each other. He glanced away, frowning somewhat, as he tried to keep from going into another panic fit that we were used to now. I could tell he was using a lot of willpower to stand put.
"How do you know where I li- umphh!"
I didn't care what he was saying and just went for it. If I got caught up in a conversation I wouldn't be able to have the balls to do this anyway. So I just planted a big, fat wet one on him. I felt the muscles in his arms go rigid with surprise under the harsh grip of my fingers as our lips pressed together.
I breathed hard through my nose and pushed past the wall of nerves and fear and repulsion dwelling inside of me, long enough to get a thorough taste of Arthur's mouth. And he made a quelled noise in the back of his throat; a noise that gave me a heavy feeling in my pants.
I had my answer.
I pushed him away, not caring that his head made a clunk against his doorframe when he watched me in shock. I rubbed at my mouth, face warm and feeling dizzy. I panted into my jacket sleeve when Arthur managed to straighten himself, finally managing to look somewhat angry.
"What the bloody hell was that for?"
I could only groan into my hands and hate that all the color was drained from my world. "I'm gray."
"You're what?" Arthur demanded, prodding at my chest when I refused to answer. My eyes zipped down to him with a scowl and I shoved the paper in my hands at his chest. He stumbled but caught it and looked down curiously at a number sloppily scrawled on it. "What is this?"
"You made me gray, Kirkland. Don't think you can get away with it and not take responsibility. That's my number. Fucking call it tomorrow or I'll beat your ass!" Arthur stared at me blankly before his ears turned red. I rolled my eyes and sputtered. "Not like that, you idiot! I said I'm gray, no full blown rainbow!"
"Shut up. I'll see you in school tomorrow," I grumbled, turning on my feet and storming down his porch. I could feel Arthur's confused gaze on my back but pressed on. It wasn't until I was around the corner when I let out the heavy breath I was holding. Well, that was killer. I ran my hand through my hair and mentally swore off Gilbert's parties altogether from now on. I didn't need to find out anything else about myself right now. At least, not until college.
I stopped when I felt a buzzing in my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. It was from a number I didn't recognize, but I couldn't help but snort humorously when seeing it.
That was completely anti-climactic. Are you gay or just plain stupid?
I sighed with a heavy smile and shook my head, looking up at the sky. I wondered that recently myself. But, being the good-natured boy that I was, I smirked and typed in my response, throwing caution to the wind and strolled down the street with my hands in my pockets and a whistle on my lips.
You would know. You're the expert.
Charlie Brows: Obvious reference to Charlie Brown, created by Charles M. Schulz.
Renee Zellweger: Sorry if you guys like her! Lol She's not a bad actress, but her and Taylor Swift have the most lemon-faced faces I've seen in my life. When I eat sour things I start to look like that too. Makes me wonder if they ate too many sour things when they were little and their faces just froze like that…
Flash: Justice League!
Hairy Russian women: Again, if you like Hetalia, you're going to see some stereotyping. And considering that my own country is seen like a gluttonous retard, I do not regret throwing this out there, though I don't believe it to be true (Mila Kunis confuses me). Alfred reminds me of coming from somewhere of the NY or Cali regions of the States and I am from one of those regions where this stereotype is rampant. Russian women have a bad rap for being manly or ugly or an unfortunate combination of both, thus, Alfred made the hairy face comment.
Pinocchio: There is an island in the Disney movie "Pinocchio" where all the boys turn into donkeys, which are also known as asses. Play on words?