“All right. I’m a hero, I can take it,” Alfred declared. “Bring it on!”
“Bugger off, tosser,” Arthur said, but Alfred ate whatever Arthur cooked even if he complained his way through meals. Arthur brought out the stew and pie he’d made. “I’m not bringing it to you. Come to the dining table and eat like a civilized person,” he told Alfred who let out an exaggerated sigh but got up obediently.
Arthur could handle most food by now but he was supposed to be careful so he only had the stew and picked out the meat to give to Alfred.
“Isn’t this burnt?” Alfred asked as he ate.
Arthur flushed. “Only a little. It—it gives it more flavoring, stupid,” he snapped.
Alfred laughed. “Whatever you say,” he said. “Are you sure you’re allowed to eat burnt things?”
“It’s fine!” Arthur said.
But then Alfred would reach across the small square dining table for Arthur’s hand and squeeze his fingers so Arthur knew that Alfred was joking, and they would do the dishes together even though Alfred would complain about having to scrub all the burnt parts out of Arthur’s pots.
“So which movie do you want to see?” Alfred asked, holding out the movies for Arthur to see and he laughed when Arthur did end up choosing the romance movie, which was more drama than romance anyway.
“It’s historical, git, now shut up,” Arthur snapped when Alfred laughed at him.
“You can be such a girl sometimes,” Alfred said when he popped the DVD in the player and sat down next to Arthur, manhandling him until Arthur was half in Alfred’s lap.
“It’s called being educated, Neanderthal,” Arthur answered, too conscious of how close Alfred was, and trying to pretend he wasn’t noticing. “Just because I don’t appreciate all the toilet humor and violence you do.”
Alfred hummed and Arthur could feel it all down his side, and smell the detergent of clean laundry and the shampoo Alfred used.
The movie played and Arthur only half paid attention to it – too aware of how close Alfred was and how warm he was and how happy Arthur was even if he was unsure about this all and there were still the police investigations to think of and how he was going to pick up his life again and what might happen a week, a month, a year from now because Alfred had left him once before already and if they did do this, what if… He didn’t realize that Alfred was staring at him too until Alfred touched his cheek.
Arthur’s eyes flew up to meet Alfred’s beautiful blues and like this, so close Arthur could feel Alfred breathing, somehow none of those other things seemed important.
“Can I kiss you?” Alfred whispered, a little hoarse.
“Yes,” Arthur said.
He could see Alfred’s face getting closer, his eyes beginning to slide shut, and Arthur’s heart was beating so fast he was sure Alfred could hear the rush of blood in his ears. Arthur was so stiff and nervous and he could feel the warm breath against his lips, and it was really going to happen—
And then the phone rang.
Arthur turned bright red and scrambled off of Alfred to grab his cell phone. “Hello?” he said after he composed himself enough to answer.
“Mr. Kirkland, are you all right?” It was Ludwig.
“Who is it?” Alfred demanded, looking flushed and a little embarrassed and a little annoyed.
Police, Arthur mouthed back at Alfred. “Yes, I’m fine,” he answered Ludwig. “Why? What happened?”
From the other end of the phone came a pause. “We’ve found another body.”
Forever Mine 3e/?
“Bugger off, tosser,” Arthur said, but Alfred ate whatever Arthur cooked even if he complained his way through meals. Arthur brought out the stew and pie he’d made. “I’m not bringing it to you. Come to the dining table and eat like a civilized person,” he told Alfred who let out an exaggerated sigh but got up obediently.
Arthur could handle most food by now but he was supposed to be careful so he only had the stew and picked out the meat to give to Alfred.
“Isn’t this burnt?” Alfred asked as he ate.
Arthur flushed. “Only a little. It—it gives it more flavoring, stupid,” he snapped.
Alfred laughed. “Whatever you say,” he said. “Are you sure you’re allowed to eat burnt things?”
“It’s fine!” Arthur said.
But then Alfred would reach across the small square dining table for Arthur’s hand and squeeze his fingers so Arthur knew that Alfred was joking, and they would do the dishes together even though Alfred would complain about having to scrub all the burnt parts out of Arthur’s pots.
“So which movie do you want to see?” Alfred asked, holding out the movies for Arthur to see and he laughed when Arthur did end up choosing the romance movie, which was more drama than romance anyway.
“It’s historical, git, now shut up,” Arthur snapped when Alfred laughed at him.
“You can be such a girl sometimes,” Alfred said when he popped the DVD in the player and sat down next to Arthur, manhandling him until Arthur was half in Alfred’s lap.
“It’s called being educated, Neanderthal,” Arthur answered, too conscious of how close Alfred was, and trying to pretend he wasn’t noticing. “Just because I don’t appreciate all the toilet humor and violence you do.”
Alfred hummed and Arthur could feel it all down his side, and smell the detergent of clean laundry and the shampoo Alfred used.
The movie played and Arthur only half paid attention to it – too aware of how close Alfred was and how warm he was and how happy Arthur was even if he was unsure about this all and there were still the police investigations to think of and how he was going to pick up his life again and what might happen a week, a month, a year from now because Alfred had left him once before already and if they did do this, what if… He didn’t realize that Alfred was staring at him too until Alfred touched his cheek.
Arthur’s eyes flew up to meet Alfred’s beautiful blues and like this, so close Arthur could feel Alfred breathing, somehow none of those other things seemed important.
“Can I kiss you?” Alfred whispered, a little hoarse.
“Yes,” Arthur said.
He could see Alfred’s face getting closer, his eyes beginning to slide shut, and Arthur’s heart was beating so fast he was sure Alfred could hear the rush of blood in his ears. Arthur was so stiff and nervous and he could feel the warm breath against his lips, and it was really going to happen—
And then the phone rang.
Arthur turned bright red and scrambled off of Alfred to grab his cell phone. “Hello?” he said after he composed himself enough to answer.
“Mr. Kirkland, are you all right?” It was Ludwig.
“Who is it?” Alfred demanded, looking flushed and a little embarrassed and a little annoyed.
Police, Arthur mouthed back at Alfred. “Yes, I’m fine,” he answered Ludwig. “Why? What happened?”
From the other end of the phone came a pause. “We’ve found another body.”