Duty Calls (Case 3)

Arthur stirred, feeling someone touching his cheek. He instinctively flinched from the touch and found himself tumbling off the mattress and onto the ground. Quickly, he sat up and scrambled away, blushing. "I'm sorry," he mumbled hurriedly, embarrassed that he had been caught going against his own request to not sleep together. He had just felt so very alone during the night. 

Without waiting for a response, Arthur gathered up some clothing and fled to the bathroom where he proceeded to go through his morning routine. Once he was clean and dressed, he quietly made his way back up to Alfred's room. He could hear Matthew and their mother speaking on the ground floor, but avoided venturing in alone. 

"I ought to ask your mother if she'd like some help with the garden," Arthur murmured as he put his things away. He was still embarrassed, but as long as they avoided the topic everything would be fine. "It seems rather overgrown in the front. Unless there was something else that you wanted to do today?"

Alfred didn't even get a chance to say anything before Arthur bolted off to the bathroom. He sighed. There was nothing to be sorry for really.. If Arthur wanted to sleep next to him all he had to do was say so. These games of back and forth though were starting to tug at his heartstrings again though. Time..time was what Arthur needed he had to remind himself.

He got up and dressed himself before Arthur returned. "I didn't have any plans yet, no." Alfred replied a faint smile on his face as he ran a brush through his rebellious hair, it was misbehaving more than usual today. "I think she'd like that idea though."

On their way down stairs for the second day of this 'vacation' Alfred catches sight of Matthew's car leaving the driveway through the kitchen window. "He's got to get back to work." His mother explains as she catches him looking. "He was off while visiting you but now that he's home he has to go get back into his routine."

"Where's he working at?" Alfred asks. Matthew never told him about any job.

"Oh just the small grocery store a little ways in town. It's called "Moose Tracks" or something I believe." She replies as she finishes up drying some plates she had been washing. She gestures towards the table. "I made breakfast a while ago but couldn't bring myself to wake you two up. I apologize but I did leave some out for you if your hungry." On there table is a small tray of biscuits and sausage arranged rather neatly.

Alfred picks up a sausage and stuffs it inside of a biscuit eating it like he would a burger.

Arthur carefully took some food and thanked Alfred's mother before nibbling on it halfheartedly. He'd seen the expression on Alfred's face when he'd returned from the bathroom, and he knew that Alfred wasn't happy with him. He knew that he shouldn't have fallen asleep there on the floor mattress, but just having Alfred near had calmed him and eased the strange, consuming loneliness that he had felt during the night. 

He couldn't eat much, instead fretting over what he should do. Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea to come here. Alfred was supposed to be recovering safely at home, but Arthur was just continuing to make him upset. 

Maybe he should just go back to his flat in the city. wouldn't everyone be happier, then?

Arthur quietly cleared away his dishes and washed them. It took him a moment to summon the courage to approach Alfred's mother, but eventually he wandered over to where she was. "Excuse me, ma'am," he said hesitantly, "I was wondering if I might... Have a look at your garden." He proceeded to clumsily explain himself, hoping that she wouldn't be offended. 

Soon enough, he was kneeling down in front of the flower beds in front of the house, carefully plucking weeds from between the flowers. He'd rolled his sleeves up to keep them from getting dirty and had all but forgotten about his self-consciousness as he tenderly cared for the plants. It wasn't as if anyone was around anyway, and to be honest he'd always had a soft spot for gardening. It was too bad that he couldn't afford a house instead of a flat, where he would be able to grow whatever he liked. Then again, having an entire house to himself would be rather lonely. 

Alfred's mother seems surprised at Arthur's offer to tend to her garden. Although it is a eagerly accepted help. "I was actually going to try and mess with it a bit today but it seems you've read my mind..It's just gotten so hard to keep up with it. I'm not as young as I used to be and the garden is one thing that Alfred and Matthew aren't much help with besides digging in the mudd." She gives a shy smile then but shows him where all the garden tools are kept, in a small corner of the shed out back. She watches him at first as if wary of leaving the job to him but after a while she sees that Arthur indeed knows what he's doing and allows herself to wander off.

Alfred watches the two concerned himself but for different reasons. He's almost jealous of the flowers and how content Arthur seems with them instead of spending time with him. His mother sees this and takes him by the arm and leads him back inside the house. "Don't worry dearie. Let him have his alone time." She says ushering him to sit across from her as he takes a seat by the window, just to keep an eye on the boy outside. "So tell me again Alfred, how did you two meet? Through work?"

Alfred tells her the story, or at least most of it, leaving out some of the more vulgar details of the case they had been on at the time. She asked him other things, like how they started going out and if they had any particularly memorable dates. Alfred is more than happy to answer and she can tell by the way Alfred talks about him that he really does love and admire Arthur. Finally when she seems satisfied she tells Alfred to go outside and feed the dogs.

Alfred goes, carrying a two large bags of dog food into the back yard. The pack of animals nearly swarm him when they see that their dinner has arrived. They jump and lick and generally knock Alfred around, rivaling him in weight. Alfred empties both the bags filling the several bowls left around the yard and when he's done he makes sure to give each dog some individual love and attention, scratching them behind the ears and even rolling on the ground with them at some point.

Arthur's back and shoulders were aching from hunching over flowerbeds for several hours, but it was a good kind of ache. Though he was nowhere near finished, the garden was already beginning to look quite a lot neater. He could probably finish it all by the time he had to leave.  He finally stood and wiped at his forehead, leaving streaks of dirt across his flushed skin.  

Arthur quietly cleaned up and returned the tools to the shed. On the way back, he could hear some kind of commotion, with lots of barking and panting. He curiously followed the noise until he caught sight of Alfred on the ground with a pack of dogs surrounding him. Arthur's heart suddenly leapt as he thought that perhaps Alfred was hurt. But then the American was sitting up and rubbing at a dog's belly vigorously, and Arthur couldn't help  but lean against the fence and give a tiny, genuine smile at the endearing sight. 

How could a grown man be so adorable? Arthur gazed at his boyfriend fondly, his smile slowly growing wider as the American continued to lavish attention upon the dogs. It seemed that Alfred hadn't noticed him yet, but that was no big deal. Arthur was content to just watch. 

Alfred is lost in his own little world for a moment. It's almost as if he never left his home and it's any other day just him playing with the dogs and making noises at the chickens running around. He's silly and carefree.

Then his eyes land on Arthur and it's as if that spell is broken but he's still smiling. No he has left home and now he's just visiting but he wouldn't change that for the world either. He waves at Arthur and gestures for him to come on over.

Noticing the attention has been taken from them the dogs look up as well a few going over to sniff at Arthur curiously, nudging his hands looking for treats deciding that he's acceptable.

"Don't you look a little dirty?" Alfred mentions seeing the dirt streaks across Arthur's face from gardening. "I didn't know you liked playing in the mud that much?" He laughs but it isn't insulting in any way. After all he's almost sitting in the dirt and it's probably on a good deal of his clothes as well.

"What? Am I?" Arthur quickly rubbed at his face, but it didn't end up helping much. He had been so absorbed in his gardening that he'd forgotten all about looking neat and presentable. As he lowered his arm, he caught sight of his rolled-up sleeves and quickly rolled them back down, suddenly feeling self-conscious once again. "I don't," he replied, "but you must admit your mother's garden has a certain kind of... Charm to it. I couldn't resist."

He knelt down and hesitantly stroked the head of the nearest dog to avoid looking at Alfred. The dog's fur was smooth and silky beneath his hand and he couldn't help but smile as the dog butted his palm with a wet nose. "Aren't you a handsome fellow?" he cooed quietly, seemingly engrossed in the task of petting the dog. "You... are a fellow, aren't you?"

Not wanting to actually check the gender of the dog, Arthur looked up shyly at Alfred and continued stroking the dog's fur. "What's his name?" he asked, seemingly awed by the number of dogs in the yard. "How do you remember them all?" He gave a slightly sad smile and looked down at the dog again. "I was never allowed a pet, as a child," he confessed. "I'm rather jealous of you."

He was jealous of more than just the fact that Alfred had pets, however, though he would never voice his thoughts out loud. 

Alfred watches Arthur wipe at the dirt amused and leans back resting his palms on the ground. "I think she's glad for the help on the garden."

"That's Pudge. He's a big softy." Alfred says gesturing to the dog sitting on front of Arthur. "and she's Fudge." He adds nodding to the one that has settled down near Arthur feet close by. "They're mates, probably the oldest two animals we have." He glances around the yard trying to count the dogs, sun glinting off his glasses as he names off several others. "I don't know really. They've just been around for forever, ever since Dad once had a small heard of goats and wanted a dog to heard them around. Well, mom found a litter of pups and she couldn't pick just one so we brought them all home. Kinda silly huh?"

Alfred moved to get up off the ground brushing the dirt off his clothes as best he can but he almost resembles someone who has been through a dust storm. He walks over to lean against the fence next to Arthur patting the dogs on the head as he goes. "Jealous? Really? Why couldn't you have a pet?" He asks looking rather surprised at the fact.

Arthur scratched the dog behind the ears and was quiet for a moment. "I told you that I have several brothers," he murmured finally. "Boys are expensive to raise, especially in such numbers and back... in England." Though sometimes he couldn't help but miss England, he could no longer think of it as home. No, home was in his little flat that Alfred had slowly but surely invaded until it was no longer white, dreary or lonely.

That didn't mean that he was't jealous of Alfred for having a home to return to, though, or for having family that understood him and loved him no matter what. Once again, a feeling welled up inside of him that told him he didn't belong here. He shouldn't have barged into Alfred's family home. He didn't belong.

"We should go clean up," he said rather abruptly, gently pushing the dog away from himself and standing. Arthur brushed off his clothing and started back towards the house without looking at Alfred.

Alfred nods slowly as if he understands at least some what Arthur is saying. He can't imagine what it must have been like growing up over the ocean although he'd like to think Arthur had a nice childhood like he did, even if it wasn't the easiest all the time for either of them.

"Ah, right. We should." Alfred agrees as he moves to walk beside Arthur, casually slipping his hands inside of Arthur's as they go. He leads Arthur to the big bathroom on the second floor and leans into the shower to turn the water on, slipping as he does so and falling rather unceremoniously into the path of the water. He flails about for a few moments before he bursts out laughing, leaning his head back against the tile wall and giving up at trying to stands for the moment. His clothes are quickly soaked and he really doesn't seem to care either way. "Oh man, I must look like a total loser huh?" but he's smiling. Being able to laugh at himself was usually a good trait in the American after all.

He quietens down after a moment and eyes Arthur suddenly, almost as if an idea if growing in his head. He moves than to stand and detaches the hand held shower nozzle careful not to fall once more. "Care to join me Artie?" He asks and even if it is a question he is holding the nozzle dangerously close to being turned on Arthur now.

Arthur didn't pull away from Alfred's warm, slightly sweaty hand as they made their way back into the house. Alfred wanted him here, he told himself weakly. For now, Alfred wanted him to be here, and the least Arthur could do was accommodate the man a little bit. He squeezed back lightly and followed his boyfriend up into the second storey bathroom.

It was only after Alfred had shut the door and was in the process of turning the shower on that Arthur realised what the implications of a closed bathroom door would be when both of them were inside. What would Alfred's mother think? How very inappropriate! But then Alfred was falling and wet and Arthur's mouth went dry at the sight of the sodden shirt sticking to Alfred's muscular form. He looked... Arthur blushed heavily as he tried to process his thoughts but all he could really register was how absolutely breathtaking Alfred looked.

Arthur didn't snap out of his daze until he was hit by a sudden jet of water. He gave a soft, surprised sound and jerked back, but it was too late. His shirt, too, was completely sodden and clung to his thin body tightly. "Alfred!" he tried to reprimand the other man, but it came out sounding more like an indignant squeak. "Alfred, don't--!"

It seems it was too late Alfred was already spraying Arthur with the nozzle and laughing at just how soaked the two of them were getting, his own hair matted down from water now. He was smiling when he lowered the nozzle and caught a proper sight of Arthur now just as wet as he was. His cheeks flushes a bit but he tried not to stare too openly but he couldn't help the fact that he really thought Arthur was just...very very attractive.

"Aw, don't be a spoil sport." Alfred speaks up when he hears Arthur's little protests. He leans over and pulls his shoes and socks off throwing them towards the door so he can get a better grip with his bare feet on the wet tiled floor. "This way we can get our clothes washed at the same time." He laughs once more filing a small plastic bucket in the shower up with water and pouring it over himself. He shivers slightly. "Ah it's too cold!" He says playing with the knobs on the shower again until the water is not too cold or too hot. He fills the bucket again and gives Arthur a sly look. Oh yes, he's going to be after him next with it.

"Alfred Jones, don't you dare...!" Arthur gave a muffled shriek as he was suddenly doused in water. He stood quietly for a moment, pushing his wet fringe out of his eyes and adjusting his sodden shirt. His entire aura was intimidating and deadly. Then he struck. 

"You utter berk!" he shouted, blindly launching himself forwards. "Do you even realise how much of a mess you're making? You're such a bloody--" Arthur gave a startled gasp as he slipped on the wet tiles and collided solidly with Alfred's chest. The impact sent them both sprawling onto the shower floor and he cursed loudly as as his elbow smacked painfully against the tiles. His arm ached as he wiggled his fingers, but it seemed that a bruise would be the extent of the damage. 

It seemed that he'd managed to land on top of Alfred though, and Arthur blushed as he realised just how compromising their position would be if Alfred's mother happened to walk through the door. Then again, Alfred's mother had suggested that they share a bed... But that wasn't the problem. The problem was that Arthur was currently straddling Alfred's lap, his legs splayed open awkwardly as the water continued to beat down on them.

Alfred just continued to laugh knowing that Arthur may be mad with him but his tone wasn't Arthur's real angry tone. "Of course I know but it's just water." He reasons right before he is tackled and finds himself falling backwards.

His back hits the tile floor hard and for a moment it's painful but it fades into a dull throb quickly before disappearing. He'll probably have a bruise or two as well but nothing major. Arthur looks like h'es been hurt too though as he's holding his elbow and wincing. Alfred carefully grabs that elbow and plants a kiss on it in apology.

It isn't until then that he realizes the situation fully. He had only been thinking of the fun and the laughter and the teasing but now with Arthur suddenly on top of him and both of them drenched does it hit him that this could go a while other direction. A very sexy direction if the thoughts his mind was throwing him had anything to say about it. He shakes his head to try and clear them though. This is what got him in trouble last time right?

He couldn't help himself though, he gazes up at Arthur an expression somewhere between amused and embarrassed with flushed cheeks thrown in the mix. He wraps one arm around Arthur's waist, the other wiping water form his eyes, glasses having been thrown to the floor at this point. Still Arthur is all that has his attention.

"Did I ever tell you how beautiful you look when your all soaked?" He asks teasing just a bit but it's clear that he's being honest. It's a true statement in his mind. Arthur looks attractive on any given day but here, soaked yet still hiding in his clothes, his hair matted down and drops of water dripping down his cheeks, Arthur is probably the most gorgeous thing Alfred's ever seen.

Arthur tried to slide backwards off Alfred's lap but found himself trapped by the arm around his waist. He folded his arms across his chest defensively instead and looked away. "Don't be preposterous," he said, beginning to feel uncomfortable. Even though Alfred didn't seem to realise it, his hand seemed to be positioned dangerously low on Arthur's hip, almost on his arse. "I'm not... You don't even have your glasses on, you daft sod."

The American's touches sent jolts of heat through Arthur and he subtly tried to shift away from the hand. He wanted Alfred, but at the same time he didn't want to engage in any such behaviour, even with his boyfriend. The constant inner conflict was tiring, but Arthur didn't know what to think. It was obvious from the look on Alfred's face that he was frustrated, and didn't want to wait. What was also obvious was the utter love in his eyes. It was so intense that Arthur felt a lump in his throat and had to blink rapidly for a moment in an attempt to curb any wayward emotions. 

If he had to be honest... Alfred was looking utterly delicious and Arthur wanted nothing more than to jump him right then and there. But if he couldn't even control himself, then what good was he? If he tried to start anything, or even just went along with it all, wouldn't it prove to Alfred that he wasn't good for anything else?

"Alfred," he breathed quietly, wanting to both flee from and kiss the man in front of him at the same time. His indecisiveness and vulnerability was obvious in both his tone and facial expression and he tensed, becoming guarded. 

"I don't need my glasses I just know." Alfred countered with a knowing smile.

It takes a moment but Alfred soon becomes aware of the growing uncomfortable poster Arthur has. His smile dims down as he examined what of Arthur's face he can see in definition. His arm around Arthur's waist loosens and he moves to sit up more. Arthur is still in his lap but he's holding him much more carefully now as well as their faces being closer so he can talk to him over the roar of the water.

"Arthur, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. If your...uncomfortable I understand." He brushes a mop of wet hair out of his face and eyes. Alfred's own body seems to have tensed up at Arthur's uneasiness with him. He didn't like it at all, no he hated that he couldn't even give his boyfriend a kiss without feeling guilty that the man didn't want it.

With a sigh he reached out a hand, releasing Arthur, to turn the water off.

It was obvious that he'd managed to upset Alfred once again. Arthur scurried backwards away from the other man, blinking rapidly as he looked away, ashamed. He couldn't do anything right. Maybe it would be better to simply accept that. What was he even doing here? He didn't belong here. 

Maybe it would be better for him to simply leave. 

"I-- sorry--" Arthur could barely force the apology out before he turned and fled. It wasn't in his nature to run from difficult situations, but this time it was completely different. It was all his fault, and staying there longer would have only made things worse. He snatched a towel and quickly towelled himself off as he made his way back up to Alfred's bedroom. Once there, he stripped himself of his sodden clothing and hurriedly redressed before retracing his steps and wiping up any spilled water as quickly as he could to avoid bumping into Alfred again. 

He took the towel and wet clothes down to the laundry and was intercepted by Alfred's mother on the way out. Arthur couldn't bear to look at her and instead hung his head ashamedly. "I'm sorry, ma'am," he mumbled. "I'm afraid I'm not hungry. Please, go ahead and have your dinner." 

The back porch seemed like a quiet enough place to go and Arthur slipped outside when no one was looking. It was cold and he found himself shivering, but it was much preferred to being inside and facing Alfred. Even though the American was trying so hard, they were still falling apart and it was all Arthur's fault. He wondered if it would be better to go back to his flat and let Alfred recover here in peace. But then Matthew would be angry, and perhaps their mother would be, too, and they would pale in comparison to Alfred's anger and disappointment. 

Arthur stomach was churning and he began to feel slightly nauseous with stress. He wanted Alfred to prove to him that he wasn't just wanted for sex, but... Was that unnecessarily punishing the American? If anything, Arthur was the one who deserved to be deprived of something. Would it be better to give up what was left of his pride and simply give himself to Alfred once again? At least then, Alfred wouldn't be so upset. 

All Alfred could do was watch dumbstruck as Arthur was running from him again. Did he do something wrong? He told Arthur they didn't have to do anything and it was true. All Alfred really wanted was just maybe a kiss or even just to be able to hold Arthur close. He thrived off physical contact but honestly sex wasn't necessary. Plus he wanted Arthur to know that he was there for him. He hadn't intended for them to fall on top of each other all soaked but hey, it kind of figured it to be a happy accident. Obviously Arthur thought otherwise though and it frustrated Alfred. Even if he knew it wasn't true it made him feel well, rather unattractive.

He gathered himself up and cleaned up the bathroom mess he had made before going to his room as well and changing. Arthur wasn't there. HE slipped on some new clothes, pajamas really and headed down to the laundry room with a towel draped over his head to hide his face.

"Alfred?" His mother speaks up lifting the towel when she sees him. "Arthur just ran through here too. He seemed upset. Is everything alright dearie?"

"'s fine mom." Alfred mumbles in return dumping the wet clothes and towels into the laundry basket. He idly spots Arthur's clothes in the basket as well. "We just." He sighs not knowing a way to finish that sentence that sounded right. "I don't know." He adds quietly. His mother takes his shoulders and makes him look at her. She examines him for a moment concerned. "Do you want me to try and help Alfred?" She asks seriously. Alfred shakes his head. "No. Thing'll be fine really." He bites his lip.

His mother nods his head and lets go. "Alright but if you change your mind you know I'll be right here." He hugs in quickly before turning to go back to the kitchen.

Alfred slumps against the laundry room wall. What was he supposed to do? Something that much he knew and it needed to be done sooner rather than later. He searched the whole house for Arthur but came up empty than went out the back door. There he was on the back porch but Alfred hesitated. What if Arthur really wanted to be left alone. He hovered by the door for a long moment before he sat down in the chair beside him, not looking at him or saying anything. Hair sticking up in odd angles as it wasn't completely dry yet and in his pajamas. It was rather chilly but he was going to sit here until Arthur wanted to talk.

Arthur had steadily been talking himself into a state of complete anxiety and having Alfred come out and not say anything for once only made it worse. He knew that the best thing he could possibly do was go back home and stop intruding here. But he also knew that going home now would spell the definite end of their relationship. His throat closed up and he found that he couldn't speak, even though he didn't know what to say anyway. 

His hands were shaking from more than just the cold now, and not for the first time he felt terribly cornered. There wasn't any way for him to leave short of stealing someone's car or hitch-hiking. Alfred's mother was kind enough but he couldn't seem to find any space for himself here. There wasn't even a spare room he could stay in. He kept feeling like a total intruder and it was making him far too stressed. 

"I think I should go to bed now," Arthur said shakily, rising to his feet unsteadily. Maybe he was going to have a breakdown or something. It certainly felt like it, with the way that his head was beginning to spin and his stomach continued to churn. He glanced at Alfred and immediately looked away. "I'm sorry." He was sorry for so many things that he couldn't even adequately express himself. He really did ruin everything. Arthur didn't want to hurt Alfred anymore, but everything he did seemed to upset the other man. He couldn't do anything right.  "You should dry your hair properly before you catch a cold," he whispered after a moment, unable to suppress his instinct to keep Alfred safe and healthy. 

Alfred opened his mouth several times trying to find the right words to say and most of those times he ended up just closing it again. What was there to say? What could be say. He had no idea what was running through Arthur's head or why he was acting like this and it just confused the poor boy to no end. He had tried everything and it only seemed to make it worse.

"ARTHUR!" He finally shouted covering his mouth quickly with a hand as he seems to have not meant for this to be said out loud but there it was, out in the open now. He couldn't take it back. He scrambled for words to add, something anything and he found himself standing.

"Arthur I...just please. Tell me what you want me to do!" The words are coming out now and won't stop. "I've tried to give you space and I've tried to keep my hands to myself and what happened in the bathroom. You know I wouldn't make a move on your unless you wanted me to right! I haven't so much as barely kissed you since the last case and I'm trying my best. I brought you here and it's been great so far. I'm having a good time and your having a good time right? So why do you keep running away from me? Am I not..good enough?" He subconsciously wraps his arms around his torso. "I don't know what more to do. I just want you by my side, happy with me. You don't seem happy at all though. Arthur please.. what can I do to make you happy. That's all I want."

Alfred is practically gasping for breath by the time he's done. He sighs having let out a lot of his energy saying all that. He gives Arthur a desperate, pleading look. "What can I do?" He repeats calmer now.

Arthur stopped to listen and could only feel worse after hearing Alfred's words. He knew that Alfred was right. The American had made so many allowances for him, and had done so much. He was upset and hurting and for some reason, was blaming himself. Arthur couldn't allow that. "You are good enough," he said quietly, hunching his shoulders defensively as he turned to look at the other man. "You've always been good enough. I'm just always upsetting you and I know that I'm hurting you but I don't know what to do. I don't belong here, Alfred. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't want to hurt you any more."

He blinked rapidly as he folded his arms across his chest. He was being more honest and open than he had been in a while, and it was quite scary. "You want to make me happy... but I want to make you happy, and obviously I'm making you utterly miserable." Arthur took a deep breath and stepped closer to his boyfriend. "I didn't leave the bathroom because I didn't want you. I left because... I wanted you too much. If I'd stayed, I'd've... well, at any rate, you're definitely not the problem."

How could he explain his feelings properly? Arthur slowly reached up and threaded his fingers through Alfred's hair. Gently, he leaned up and pressed his lips against Alfred's. The kiss wasn't at all long or deep, but the resulting surge that shot through his body was telling enough. "I do love you," he whispered, staring down at the ground. "But... I don't know what I need. I don't know what you can do. Just please... be patient with me, Alfred."

Alfred looked pained at Arthur's words. Arthur wasn't hurting him, no. It was just the emotional distance that he felt growing between them that unsettled him so. He just wanted to be close to Arthur that was all. If Arthur was happy then Alfred would be happy. That's all he needed.

He wasn't convinced that he wasn't the problem but he didn't say otherwise.

At Arthur's touch he seemed to relax further, melting against those fingers. "I'll wait as long as you need me to." Alfred promises lightly kissing Arthur back before he lets out a slow breath. "And you know..if there's anything I can do ever. Just tell me." He gives a hopeful expression, a flash of a smile with teeth. "Until then, enjoy your time here with me, please. I really want to share this with you. Tomorrow we'll do something extra special if your up for it."

Arthur hesitated, but quietly slipped his hand into Alfred's. "You don't have to hold back to such an extent," he said softly. "I didn't... I'll tell you if it's too much." He knew how physically affectionate Alfred was; surely Arthur could make an effort to allow a little bit more. He was confused and upset with himself but still he craved Alfred's touch. It made him feel less lonely. 

"Thank you for... Sharing this with me," he continued. "I'm very grateful. Honestly, I am." He just didn't belong here. If he loosened up his conditions a bit, would that change things? Surely it was obvious to Matthew and their mother that he wasn't making Alfred happy enough. Their mother was kind and welcoming, but Arthur still felt awkward and alienated in this place. "And... I would be glad to accompany you to wherever it is, tomorrow."

They made their way back inside, hands still loosely linked, only to be met with the sight of Matthew and their mother waiting patiently at the dinner table, which was laden with food. At their pointed looks, Arthur ducked his head and slunk to his designated seat guiltily. He couldn't inconvenience these people any more for the duration of his stay. They were already doing so much for him. 

Alfred nodded slowly, squeezes Arthur's hand light in his. "As long as you promise to tell me if I step over the line." He replies a serious but almost dazed expression on his face. He seems rather happy now. Just hearing Arthur say those things makes him feel so much better. "Alright, tomorrow it is then." He says before they go back inside.

Alfred just gives a sheepish look to his mother and brother as they enter the room. He had forgotten that it was about dinner time. Matthew seems mildly annoyed but it's probably because he's hungry and Alfred's mom wouldn't start without everyone there, to which she gives the two walking in a critical eye but more than understands which is why she hadn't called for them to come quite yet, giving them a few moments to sort out whatever had been going on.

Alfred takes his seat and after they say Grace everyone finally digs in. It's quiet for a long moment but finally Alfred's mother speaks up. "Matthew, how was work today?" They chat for a few moments leaving Alfred and Arthur to eat in silence. It isn't until everyone is almost done that Mrs. Jones looks at the two. "Did you get enough to eat?....Is everything alright?" Alfred knows from experience that is a loaded question. Not only is she asking about the food but about them as well.

"Everything's great mom." Alfred replies and seeing as how he is still fingering at Arthur's hand under the table, reluctant to let it go fully. He feels it's a good answer. He feels like everything will be alright definitely.

Arthur allowed the other man to continue holding his hand throughout dinner as he picked at his food. After they finished eating Arthur quietly offered to do the dishes and slipped into the kitchen. There was a lot he needed to think about, and first and foremost was sleeping arrangements. He didn't want to force Alfred to sleep on the floor any longer, but he knew just how stubborn the American could be. It would definitely be less lonely to share a bed, but could he really go against his own boundaries so soon? 

He got his answer as soon as he emerged from the kitchen only to find Alfred waiting for him. The other man looked as if he needed something to cheer him up, and as his boyfriend it was Arthur's duty to do the cheering up, wasn't it? He quietly slipped his hand into Alfred's once more and followed him up to the bedroom where they began preparing for bed. 

Once he had brushed his teeth and was in his pyjamas, Arthur deliberately pushed the floor mattress back under the bed. "You shan't be sleeping on the floor tonight," he announced, sounding a lot more confident than he actually felt. "I... Wouldn't really mind if we... Shared." 

Here, he felt so far away from everything that had happened. Though he still felt awkward and lonely in this house, there was also a sense of peace--when he wasn't almost making himself sick with anxiety, that is. He wouldn't react badly to Alfred's innocent touches, he told himself. He was more centred now, instead of feeling so off-kilter. 

Besides, he hated to admit it even to himself, but he was beginning to miss the little ways that Alfred would physically showed his affection.