Same Job, Different Time and Place [R-18] - Part 2

Arthur just nodded. “Well, that’s good, I suppose.”

He raised an eyebrow at the aloe and looked sceptically back at Alfred for a few moments. He couldn’t ever imagine Alfred getting sunburnt, not with such pretty, tanned skin. And how the devil was he going to but that on? He might have been flexible for his age but he wasn’t a contortionist. He cringed at the thought.

“Right… thank you,” he said, quietly as he reached out to take the bottle from him. He’d have to figure out how to do it. He was pretty sure that he’d be able to manage it, somehow.

Alfred laughed a bit as he kept the bottle away from Arthur, shaking his head at the other's attempt. "No, no. I'll put it on you. Don't worry though, I'll be gentle about it." He assured with a smile. When he was younger, he would get sunburnt a lot more often but that was also because he always refused to put sunblock on. Now he had easily learnt his lesson and never really went out without anything that had an SPF number on it unless it was just a normal day at work.

He soon opened the bottle, pouring some of the green gel in his hand before rubbing it between his hands to warm it up slightly. With that, he reached for Arthur's back so he could rub the gel over the areas with a sunburn. He hummed to himself.

"Did you know that aloe vera can help treat scars?" He said casually, always interested in anything that dealt with the sciences or medicine.

Though Arthur wanted to protest, the hands on his back felt nice. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the silky baritone of his boyfriend’s voice rather than the small jolts of pain shooting through his back. He sucked in a breath and then sighed again.

“No, I didn’t.” What was he insinuating? Arthur knew that Alfred was interested in science (he was a clever man, after all) but he was incredibly self-conscious of the marks and freckles all over his body. He had a light dusting of freckles on his shoulders from his trip and moles littered across his body; he had a few scars from his careless youth and his father’s punishments. He didn’t really want Alfred to notice those things about him. He would much rather keep him at a distance when it came to personal things like his scars.

“How do you know that?” he tried to keep his voice light.

Alfred just hummed to himself, thinking about it. If he ever did notice the scars on Arthur's back, then he never brought it up in an conversation nor even insinuated that he knew of their existence. After all, most of their sex was in the dark and so it might have been a bit hard for him to see. Either way, it didn't seem like Alfred knew about it or if not that, then that he just didn't want to touch on it due to being sensitive about Arthur.

"Oh, I learnt it from a few books I read in high school was all." He said with a smile. "I used to read a lot of these kinds of thing, especially when I was younger. I kind of find it fascinating that just a simple plant can have so many benefits, you know? Helps with your digestive system, acne, weight, burns like this, anti-inflammatory, healthy skin...you know...just so much! It's because of all the nutrients it holds like vitamin B12, manganese, calcium and amino acids and the like!" He said before he paused a bit and gave a softer, more nervous laugh as he downcast his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm probably boring you with this conversation. I know it's not everyone's cup of tea or something." He kept on rubbing the man's back.

Arthur smiled crookedly. Although it didn’t necessarily interest him, it was good to see that Alfred was still passionate about it despite not actually working in the field that he wanted to. Arthur closed his eyes, rolling his shoulders a little as he tried not to be so stiff beneath Alfred’s hands, lest he noticed.

“No, no. It’s interesting. Nature is absolutely fascinating.” Arthur looked back over his shoulder at Alfred with a small smile. “You shouldn’t feel like you can’t talk about things you’re interested in, Alfred. I’m always going to listen to you, even if you talk for hours on end… I’ll listen,” he flushed a little and looked away. “It’s good that you like different things to me. It’s healthy.”

Arthur was good at maths, admittedly and science had interested him as a child but now, he was more of a fan of literature. He had head hundreds of books in his lifetime. He loved to read. He’d have to start borrowing books from the library so that he had something new to read every week.

Alfred really wished that he could work in the sciences. He would give about anything to get the job that he wanted but he knew that life just wasn't always that fair. At least it was fair enough to give him Arthur and for that, he was happy enough. He flushed a bit at that as well but he smiled a bit.

"Thanks, Arthur...I really appreciate that." He murmured, thankful. He gave a small laugh as he finally pulled his hands away, finished rubbing the aloe over the other's back. "No one ever really gives me the chance after all. They all think it's really boring or something so they're never willing to listen to me. They always want to talk about other things though I guess that's alright." He smiled a bit and he soon shifted around a bit so he could finally face Arthur.

He really couldn't help but admire his features, even if he was still a bit sunburnt. In fact, he found it rather endearing though he knew that he still had to be careful about touching those sunburns. No fun at all.

“That’s because they’re morons, lad,” Arthur chuckled softly. As far as he was concerned, Alfred always had something interesting to say (even if his input wasn’t always the most intelligent). “I’m always going to be here for you to talk to,” he promised, almost wishing that he hadn’t.

He stiffened as Alfred started to move, until he realised that it was just because he was moving to sit in front of him. He still felt vaguely uncomfortable about being watched so closely but he realised that he must do the same thing to Alfred. He pursed his lips, looking right back at Alfred.

The American always looked lovely to him. Always, always, always. Even when he first woke up in the morning and tasted of bad breath, vision fuzzy and the like. Arthur gazed at his eyes, glasses not where they were usually perched on the bridge of his nose. He had such pretty eyes. So blue and innocent.

Arthur shifted forwards and took Alfred’s face in his hands, unable to help himself as he kissed him again.

Alfred just laughed a bit, a small smile on his lips as he nodded in agreement. Well, he certainly couldn't argue against that logic, especially since he knew that it was pretty much true. His friends were never really that interested in what he had to say unless it was Kiku, who also seemed to secretly share a few of the same passions as himself. As well as their love for gaming.

"I'll always be here to talk to you also." He returned back, still smiling.

Yet he was also happy that Arthur was still different from him but always willing to put up with him either way. It definitely showed something for their relationship at the very least. That they didn't have to be interested in the same things to have this kind of relationship. It really was nice…

The American couldn't help but think just how lovely the man looked, even if he was still tired and maybe his hair a bit too messy and eyebrows sometimes a bit too large. Though he really didn't care because this was Arthur, his lover, and he would always love how he looked at any time of the day. Even if he was absolutely hammered and stumbling around.

Feeling Arthur's hands on his face, he couldn't help but smile as he was kissed again and he was more than happy to kiss him back.

Arthur just prolonged the kiss for as long as he could before he had to pull away for air. He pressed his forehead to Alfred’s for a few moments, sighing softly. His head was starting to hurt more now. With one last quick kiss to Alfred’s lips, he moved and started to get out of bed, shivering at the chill of the morning air against his bare chest.

“Would you like some breakfast?” he asked with a yawn as he left the bedroom. He certainly did. He then heard his phone starting to ring. Arthur frowned but went to search for it nonetheless. Who on earth was calling him at this time? He left the kitchen to search through his coat pockets until he found his phone.

“Arthur Kirkland speaking,” he answered, formally. What he hadn’t been expecting to hear was his uncle, and then his mother – it was clearly a pocket call. Since when had his uncle arrived in New York? They seemed to be doing the usual – what Arthur had caught them doing as a teenager. It still made him feel sick. He hung up and stared at his phone for a few long moments, expression crumbling. He soon recomposed himself, and headed back to the kitchen, putting the phone down on the countertop.

“Alfred, we need to buy some more eggs,” he told him, trying to take his mind off of it. “There’s enough for you here, though,” he mumbled, going to grab a frying pan.

Alfred grinned a bit at the prospect of food and he soon nodded, sadly pulling away from the kiss. He definitely wanted to keep it going but as his stomach rumbled, he knew that he couldn't prolong eating much longer. He yawned softly, stretching out a bit as he climbed off the bed as well.

"Yeah, breakfast sounds amazing." He said with a small grin before he stood up as well, following him out so he could sit on the couch. He raised an eyebrow though when he heard the phone ring and he just gazed over at his boyfriend curiously,somewhat listening in on what Arthur had to say. He didn't know who Arthur was talking to but he was certainly curious about it.

"Who was that?" He asked, glancing into the kitchen before he hummed to himself. "Yeah, I'll buy some later. Anything else we need to buy?" He called out, soon grabbing the clicker so he could flip the television on and surf through the channels.

Now what was there to watch? Alfred really didn't know that there was something possibly troubling Arthur.

“No one,” Arthur answered, much too quickly. He cleared his throat. “It was an automated message, is all. Bloody phone companies…”

He began to heat up the frying pan and then added the remaining two eggs, of which he would give to Alfred. He went to the fridge, grabbing some bacon (which he still thought was more like plastic than the proper bacon he had back home).

“Oh, you mean that you actually have plans to get up today?” he teased. “We need some more milk, bread and I think we’re low on loo roll, too. I’ll make a list.” Arthur continued to flit about the kitchen, trying to suppress memories that tried to wiggle their way back into his mind. He sighed softly, shakily.

“We need more orange juice, too. You get through it like a athlete on speed,” he rolled his eyes but poured Alfred a glass of what was left before bringing it out to him. He placed it on the coffee table in front of him and then frowned at the television.

“It’s not the superbowl again or something, is it?”

Alfred raised his eyebrow a bit at that though he decided not to say anything about it. If it really was an automated message, then there wouldn't be anything to talk about and if Arthur was hiding something...then he was certain that he wouldn't appreciate him trying to press on the topic. Either way, he decided to leave it alone for right now.

Fuck...that food smelled amazing.

The assistant laughed at the teasing, rolling his eyes a bit. "Hey. I'm not that lazy. I go out shopping all the time!" He proclaimed with a firm nod. He chuckled a bit though at the mention of the orange juice. "Alright, I'll make sure to grab everything by today so we have something to eat for tomorrow." He said, trying to remember everything that Arthur told him. Ahhh, he'll remember it later.

Alfred finally stopped on the sports channel though he frowned a bit when he heard Arthur talk about the superbowl. "Of course it's the superbowl! Football is awesome! There's nothing else on TV anyways!" He said, keeping the channel as he watched the men on the screen tackle each other down with maybe a bit more fascination than he should of had.

Arthur raised an eyebrow sceptically, folding his arms across his chest. He frowned at the television screen, watching the sport in silence for about a minute.

“They’re complete pansies. Try playing Rugby. That’s a man’s sport.” Admittedly, Arthur had never been considered fit enough to play it, but he enjoyed the sport nevertheless. “Or real Football – not this poncey bollocks.” He rolled his eyes but ran his fingers smoothly back through Alfred’s hair.

“There’s a drink for you on the table, poppet. Don’t forget about it.”

He swiftly returned to the kitchen to keep an eye on the food. It wasn’t burning yet, so he was doing well. He glanced at his phone once.

“I’ll have to show you a real sport at some point.”

Alfred just rolled his eyes. "Of course it isn't. And may I mention that this is real football? Right here? A true man's sport!" He proclaimed, pointing at the screen. "I used to be in the football team actually and may I mention that I broke quite a few bones because of it?" He huffed, cheeks somewhat puffing childishly.

"Come on. I don't even think you can play rugby well, nonetheless football. And soccer is boring." He grinned at Arthur though he really wasn't teasing all that much. He was pretty truthful about what he said...and it seemed yet again that they were at opposite opinions on something. He laughed a bit as he watched Arthur return back to the kitchen.

"I was actually the quarterback in the team. It was pretty kickass actually." Alfred soon looked over at the drink on the table before he grabbed it and gratefully sipped it.

It was actually rather good...Arthur was getting better at this.

Arthur just ignored him. He was pretty sure that he was right and Alfred was wrong, end of conversation.

“I can imagine. Although I’m surprised you broke any bones with all of that padding on,” he snickered. “I wasn’t ever on any sports teams. It isn’t my forte.” He poked at the eggs in the pan before starting to search for some plates. “Somehow, I can see you being the quarterback. That’s the one all the girls fancy, isn’t it?”

He began to dish up the (slightly crispy) bacon and eggs. He grabbed the last of the bread and put it on to their plates and then searched for the tomato ketchup for Alfred, because for some insane reason the boy liked it. He came back to Alfred pretty quickly, deciding that for today, they could just not sit at the table so that Alfred could enjoy the game and Arthur could bitch about it.

He put Alfred’s plate in his lap, knife and fork clinking together as he did so and then sat beside him.

“I bet that you were really popular, weren’t you?” Arthur smiled a little. “The bloody golden boy of your year group. The one that all the boys envied.” Or wanked over – which would more likely have been Arthur than anyone else. “I’m not sure if I should feel smug that I have you or not.”

Alfred laughed a bit at that before he shrugged. "Well, I guess so. Though being quarterback is a tough job! It's never any fun having about five sweaty men bigger than yourself jump on you when you're running, you know?" He said with a smile. Despite that, he really did have fun playing American football. It was definitely one of his loves along with baseball and basketball. He was a man who loved all types of sports, except of ones like rugby because those were for girls.

He hummed a bit, glancing down at the plate before beginning to eat hungrily. Fuck he was really hungry.

The bacon was slightly crispy, the way he liked it and he was happy that he could put some ketchup on his eggs. The other was starting to know him maybe a bit too well.

"Eh, you think so?" He asked with an amused smile. "I guess I was but I don't think you should feel smug. After all, I'm just your assistant rather than the 'popular' quarterback in the end."

Arthur smirked, “Oh, I disagree. I can see a few advantages,” he laughed darkly down at his bacon. “I wouldn’t mind having five big men jump me.” He was joking, of course. The slight glimmer in his eyes was the only thing indicating that he was, however.

He also began to eat his food, pretty hungry himself. His portion was much smaller than Alfred’s. He put the bacon in the slice of bread he’d given himself before chowing down on that.

Arthur made a small sound of mirth at Alfred’s comment, his mouth full of food. He swallowed thickly and then reached up to Alfred, kissing him quickly on the cheek.

“Yes, I suppose so. It is awfully like some teenage film though, isn’t it? The quarterback falls for the nerd.” He shook his head slowly, “You couldn’t even bloody make it up.” Alfred was more popular than Arthur ever had or ever would be. He wasn’t envious, though. Rather, he was just happy that Alfred had chosen to be with him instead of someone else (who was probably more deserving than Arthur was).

“I still don’t think this is Football,” he raised his eyebrow, staring at the screen. “He looks like Frankenstein’s monster with those great shoulder pads. That or some eighties’ bird.”

Alfred couldn't help but raise his eyebrows at the dark laugh that came from his boyfriend. Sometimes he couldn't help but think that he should be rather concerned for the man. He scoffed and rolled his eyes, knowing that the other was joking but he decided to play along with it. Instead he smirked slightly, leaning just a bit closer. "Well, I hope you don't mind having only one big man jump on you." He teased with a small laugh.

Sometimes he worried about Arthur's portions, always worrying about whether he got enough food or the like but the other man always seemed to be able to stand up. As long as he was well, then he was fine with his eating habits.

The American smiled slightly as his cheek was kissed and he soon glanced back at the television. "Well, possibly in high school but we're adults now Arthur. It sounds like more of those movies with the boss and secretary falling in love in some forbidden relationship or the like." He said with a smile as he leant close to the other man.

"And come on. This is football and nothing else! I think he looks fine." He rolled his eyes.

“I think I can cope with that,” Arthur wiggled his eyebrows, although he wasn’t looking at his lover so it wasn’t obvious. “And I suppose you’re right.” But he would much rather be the teenager than some stodgy, perverted old man preying upon his young and attractive assistant. Although, unfortunately, it sounded pretty close to the truth.

“That’s clearly because you haven’t ever seen a real sport, poppet.” He noticed how Alfred had gotten a little closer and smiled to himself. He had to at least finish eating his breakfast before contemplating doing something to close the little space between them.

“At least tell me that you watch Cricket?”

Alfred just laughed at that, rolling his eyes. Of course Arthur wouldn't mind that, especially if he was the man who jumped on him. "Be careful. You don't know how literally I will take that." He said with a small grin as he finally finished his food, placing the empty plate on the table for the moment. Honestly, he really didn't care about their age difference. The only thing that he was ever worried about was Arthur feeling that Alfred was a bit too young for his tastes.

Though other than that, he really didn't care about it. It wasn't as if they were that many years apart and in fact, it really was hardly even recognisable. Though of course Arthur looked a bit older than himself but he really didn't mind.

Alfred smiled as well. "Hey, everything I see is a real sport!" He couldn't help but furrow his eyebrows at the mention of Cricket. "...Who watches Cricket?"

“Who says that I wouldn’t like for you to take it literally?” Arthur challenged before thinking better of it. He noticed how Alfred kept just rolling his eyes and so he rolled his in response.

Arthur didn’t feel too much older than Alfred most of the time – bar a few of his grouchy moments – but it was definitely something that lurked in his mind. Alfred had a lot of growing up still to do and Arthur was approaching middle-age. God, it got closer and closer everyday. He didn’t want to be thirty. At least he had three years to go but it was still irritatingly close. Far too close and far too real.

“Of course,” he replied dryly and placed his now-empty plate atop of Alfred’s. He tapped the back of Alfred’s head in what would have been a ‘clout ‘round the ear’ had there been more force behind it (Arthur instead had merely patted him). “I bloody do!”

Alfred smirked at the very thought of it. "Mm, darling. I don't think you want me to take that literally." He chuckled. "If we were in school, I would much prefer to keep you intact so we could have fun in the locker rooms." He teased.

He really did hope that the other didn't think of him any less just because he was younger. He honestly didn't. He knew that Arthur definitely acted older than himself but in a way, he really needed it. He needed that contrast in his life and Arthur provided that contrast. He hardly saw him as much older than himself also. Certainly Alfred was definitely much more active than the other man but that didn't mean that he necessarily thought of him as old.

Alfred just laughed at that. "Girly." He joked, not all that serious. After all, he really didn't know too much about Cricket. It never particularly interested him.

“Mmm,” the Brit smirked. “I think that might have liked that. Much nicer sounding than what really happened in the lockers at my school.” He gave Alfred’s knee a gentle squeeze and settled himself against him. “Everyone used to avoid me.” He paused, “Kids are stupid. Anyway, yes. I think I would have liked to have fun in the locker rooms with you, too, darling. I’d come and visit you after a match.”

Arthur exhaled softly, getting himself comfortable because he knew that unless he distracted Alfred, he was going to have to endure a match of American Football – which was beginning to seem extremely likely.

“Berk. That’s something else I shall have to educate you in. Although, half the fun is thrashing the Aussies.” Despite the fact that the ‘Aussies’ usually thrashed the English. But, Arthur being Arthur refused to believe that at all.

Alfred finally settled himself back against Arthur as he hummed softly to himself. "In the lockers?" He asked, soon leaning forward to kiss the top of his head. "They are. Pretty shallow also, huh." He mused as he kept Arthur close to himself. "I definitely wouldn't have minded some fun in the locker room though." He couldn't help but feel a bit warm just thinking about it.

He really wanted to watch the game that was on though admittedly, he could get rather easily distracted as long as Arthur was giving him attention.

"Oh come on. I have to teach you about football instead. So much better and a lot more hands on if I must say!"

Arthur hummed in agreement.

“You need not say. I can see. I do have eyes you know,” he chided. “Anyway, Cricket isn’t about throwing your weight about. It requires genuine skill. You wouldn’t understand that, of course,” he was joking but it wasn’t quite as nice as before. Arthur seemed to realise that he was dampening the mood and quickly collected their plates to take into the kitchen.

“I’ll let you watch this,” he mumbled as he left the room. He knew that he was probably just a little shaken up from the phone call from his uncle. He really hadn’t wanted to be reminded of all of that when he was recovering from a heavy night out. “What did you do with Gilbert, by the way? Did you just leave him there?” He had no idea of whether Alfred stayed out later than Arthur had stayed at the bar.

“Oh, and where’s your car? You didn’t drive it, did you?”