To Serve And Protect. [R18]

Alfred looked a little discontented now. The entire mood of the evening had seemed ruined now and it was all because of his stupid idea to dance and Arthur wouldn't even look at him now.

It didn't take long however for that to change it seemed. when Arthur tipped over to lean on him he looked down at his partner and shook his head but couldn't keep a small smile from forming on his face. "I like this too but..maybe you should hold up on your drinks now." He says looking at the mess Arthur had made. Although he really should too at this point if they both were to make it home in one piece. Alfred had ordered a few more of his own, less strong drinks so he was feeling more able then Arthur but not by much.

Alfred shoots his own look back at the bartender this time. "I was just telling him that." He turns to look at Arthur again. "Right and maybe it's time we go, Artie." He says back. Two could use nicknames, you know.

Alfred goes to stand and is triumphantly happy to find that he can balance rather well. Arthur on the other hand he has a feeling won't be. He keeps a hand on his partners shoulder wondering if he should ask to carry him. He likes carrying people..He liked carrying Arthur. And if allowed to go down that thought path he would inevitably come to the conclusion that he liked Arthur as well. His mind got hung up though along the way. To like Arthur he had to like men. Normally everything would have stopped right there but his befuddled mind was having a hard time finding a problem with that right now.

“Ahaha, ‘Artie’,” Arthur giggled, “no one calls me that anymore. Don’t tell Alfy I like it.” His head lolled against Alfred’s shoulder as he placed his glass down with a solid clunk and reached over to swipe the remainder of his partner’s drink. “Oh, hello. It’s Alfy!” Everything tilted dangerously for a moment as his living support moved, then stabilised as a steadying hand was placed on his shoulder. “Don’t want to go yet,” he whined, “let’s dance. Dance without the floozy draping herself all over you. Don’t you want to dance?”

He blinked up at Alfred with an innocent smile, before gripping the American’s arm and staggering to his feet. “We’re dancing!” Arthur announced, throwing his arms around Alfred’s neck and wiggling. “It’s fun, right? You like it, right?” He reached out one arm to grab his glass and down the last of his drink. “I’m not boring, and angry, and annoying… right?” His smile slowly drooped into an upset pout and he clung to Alfred, still wiggling on the spot. “I can be fun,” he said earnestly, gazing up with shining eyes. “I can be nice. And if you want to, I can do that, too. Anything you like, Alfy! I can do it for you.”

"I really have no idea what your saying now." Alfred says trying to figure out if Arthur was talking to him or the air. He was a bit taken by surprise at the request to dance again. He really shouldn't have thought that he would get out of there so easily. "Arthur..I..I don't know." He manages. Dancing hadn't been a good idea last time he was sure it wouldn't be any better this time.

Alfred wraps arms around Arthur's waist, if nothing more then to hold him upright as he hangs from his neck. "Y'ur drunk." He says slurring his own words a bit. Then Arthur's expression drops though and Alfred immediately feels bad. "No, no your not." He says kindly, pulling to keep Arthur upright in his arms and not have both of them tumbling all over the place.

As his partner continues to babble on though he frowns as well. "What are you talking about Artie..Your plenty of fun without doing..whatever things your talkin' about." He pauses his mind thinking that there is probably a way to turn this situation around but how..oh! "Ya know, I'd like for us to leave. We can dance back in our dorm if you really want." He says thinking if he can get Arthur out of there then he'll probably forget all about it anyways.

Arthur giggled into Alfred’s chest. “We can go if you want,” he said, peering up at his partner’s face, “You don’t have to dance with me if you don’t want to. I know why. I understand.” Arthur let go of Alfred’s neck and staggered backwards, hitting his tailbone against the stool and yelping. He scrabbled on the bench top for his glass and tilted it upside down, trying to get the last drops of alcohol. “Maybe I can have something to drink?” he said, placing it back down with a disappointed look. “I’m thirsty.”

“No can do,” the bartender said, suddenly appearing to confiscate the glasses. “Water, maybe?”

“No,” Arthur shook his head. “No water. Alfy, I want a drink. Can’t I have a drink?” He let go of the bar and his knees buckled, sending him crashing to the floor. He laughed uproariously as he clung to Alfred’s leg, trying to drag himself back to his feet. “You’re awfully nice,” he said, finally giving up and nuzzling Alfred’s thigh affectionately. “Very nice to me, Alfy. No one’s ever been so nice.” Arthur leaned his cheek against Alfred’s leg and sighed. “I want you to like me, you know,” he said seriously, slurring. “Don’t you like me?”

"Then let's..and no that's not why..Whatever your thinking." Alfred says. It really was hard figuring out what Arthur meant and said when he was drunk he realized. then again even when he wasn't he just didn't say as much, and left Alfred wondering all the time.

"Watch yourself." Alfred says as he tries to keep Arthur from tumbling into the bar. The buzz he had was really getting killed. He wasn't used to having to be the responsible one, or at least outside of real dangerous situations. He takes Arthur's hand in an effort to get him away from the glass. "No, Artie. You shouldn't have anymore. You've told me twice now to make you stop when you've had too much. So that's what I'm doing."

"Arthur!" Alfred says when he sees him fall again but he soon knows that the other is alright by the giggling coming up from the floor. He tries to pull him the rest of the way up but Arthur seems intent on holding onto his leg and it's causing him to lose his own balance some. He feels the heat in his face returning though as the other speaks.

Alfred sighs and relents a bit. "Artie..I would never be mean to you. I mean, I like being nice to everyone but your.."He bites his lip. "Special. So of course I like you." He has a feeling that's not what Arthur means though and there goes his stomach again. He feels like he might be sick though this time.

“But I want another!” Arthur whined, tugging at the leg of Alfred’s trousers. “Can’t I? Only one more, then I won’t ask to dance.” He could feel his partner trying to tug him upright, but tightened his arms around Alfred’s legs stubbornly. It was comfortable down there, even though he was on a hard wooden flood and smelt like alcohol. Alfred’s legs were reassuringly warm and solid, and Arthur leaned against them, seeking comfort.

Arthur listened with interest as Alfred spoke to him. “No, you’re never mean,” Arthur agreed with a nod. “And if I’m special…” Arthur hesitated, lowering his gaze to the floor and loosening his grip. “If you like me, and I’m special, can you do something for me?” He peered up at Alfred’s face and bit his lip. Alfred didn’t look happy. He didn’t look comfortable. But Arthur wanted this, and he wasn’t going to ask for it unless drunk. And Arthur knew that it would be a long time before Alfred would agree to go out drinking with him again.

“Alfred…” He let go of his partner completely and sprawled back on his bottom, looking up pleadingly. “If you like me… If I’m special…” He spread his arms wide open, a pitiful look on his face. “Could you perhaps… just hold me?”

"No, no more." Alfred says and before he can try to pick Arthur up, he losses his balance and stumbles back onto the floor with him. He rubs his rear as it stings a bit from the landing.

He is surprised by Arthur's request though once he tunes back into his partner's mumblings. He wasn't sure how it all added up in the other's head but it didn't seem like a horribly unreasonable request to Alfred. If he could get back up that was.

Once his legs are released he staggers to his feet and takes hold of Arthur's arms. "Alright..but we're going back okay." He says before pulling Arthur into a standing position and scooping him up to where he is carrying him in his arms. He felt heavier then he remembered him being, that or alcohol toke a number on his muscles. He made sure not to drop him though.

He nods to the bartender. "I'll..I'll pay the bill I promise but another time. I need to get him back and well I've got my hands full." He laughs at his own joke.

The bartender nodded. “I’ll let you off this time. But take care of him. He really trusts you, man. Don’t break him.” He took a hold of the leaflets and folded them neatly, tucking them into Arthur’s pocket. “Just in case,” he said, “go on now. Get him home.”

Arthur wriggled around a bit until he felt comfortable in Alfred’s arms. Closing his eyes, he placed his ear against Alfred’s chest and listened to the sound of his heartbeat. “I’m not selfish, right?” he mumbled. He could hear the noise gradually fading away, and knew that Alfred was slowly but surely making his way back towards their dormitory. “If I want to be held, to be hugged… That’s okay, isn’t it?”

He sighed heavily and let himself go completely limp. “It’s all right though, if you don’t want to. You don’t have to dance with me or hold me close. It doesn’t matter. If I were you, I probably wouldn’t either.” He fell silent until they reached the dormitory room. As soon as they made it inside, he struggled to be put down and when he felt his feet touch the floor, he let himself crumple to the ground. Arthur wrapped his arms around himself and wondered if he’d had enough alcohol to warrant simply bursting into tears for no real reason, because he sure as hell felt like he was going to.

Alfred smiles at the bartender to let him know his appreciation and nods before heading out of the bar.

As he walks back to their dorm he holds onto Arthur as best he can. He spares a glance down at him every now and then and it is striking at how ordinary this almost feels. Those words that he hears though are even more shocking, it doesn't sound like Arthur at all. He shifts him a bit in his hands to where he can try to comfort the poor guy by circling fingers over his back. "No, It's fine..It's normal. People always like those things. Your not selfish at all." All this somber talk had brought him back to reality pretty hard at this point.

Alfred just bites his lip and listens until he kicks open their dorm door and wobbles inside. He aims to put Arthur down on his bed but Arthur seems to have different plans and wiggles until Alfred has to put him down. As gently as possible he tries even though his partner seems to refuse to stand and just lays there in the floor by the bed.

Alfred takes a long sigh and kneels down beside him there. "Ya know I really don't mind right?" He says in relation to what Arthur had said earlier. "It had been my idea to dance with you in the first place. I wouldn't have done that if I didn't want to." He tugs a pillow down from his bed and sets it beside Arthur, it he was going to be on the floor he might as well get comfortable. "Besides, I like those things too, sometimes. I like being held and...sappy stuff. I like a lot of things." He says getting less eloquent as he goes along.

Arthur cuddled the pillow to his chest, pretending that it was a warm, living being. He stayed curled up on the ground next to his bed. "But do you like me," he insisted, stubbornly forgetting what Alfred had said earlier. He wanted to hear those words again. "Do you want to be my friend? I don't have any, you know. Even the faeries left me years ago. I'm awful." He purposefully knocked his head against the floor a few times in self-punishment. "Awful," he repeated quietly to himself. 

He surfaced from his depression momentarily and spotted Alfred kneeling next to him. With a shy, hopeful smile, Arthur crawled onto his partner's lap, still holding the pillow tightly to his chest. "You said we could dance," he reminded the American. "We're back now so we can dance. But I don't think I can stand up anymore." He threw his arms around Alfred's neck and wriggled in his lap, giggling drunkenly. But it only lasted a moment before Arthur's whole body tilted dangerously to the side and his arms loosened. "I'm tired," he muttered. Arthur spread out his arms again, looking like a pitiful child. "Alfy," he said, stretching his arms out as far as they could go, "hug?"

"I told you I do." Alfred repeats before chuckling just a bit. "I already thought we were friends." He says moving to keep Arthur from injuring himself further. "and your far from awful.." Your just a bad drunk, he wants to finish but he knows that will only encourage Arthur's current sadness.

When he crawl into his lap Alfred holds onto him. One hand wrapped around his back the other coming up to brush at the back of his hair. He found he liked having his hands on Arthur and if he had been sober then Arthur likely would have pushed him away he thinks. So there is a little good thing to come of this he guesses. "I did say we could, do you want me to pick you up again?...or a hug works too." He says when Arthur tilts in his grasp and Alfred pulls him to his chest. " Just please don't get sick on me." He pleaded.

"Hey..Artie." He says quietly after a moment. "I'll tell you something.. since you probably won't remember it in the morning anyways."

Arthur giggled as he felt the comforting warmth of Alfred surround him. "Sick?" he mumbled into Alfred's shirt. "'M not sick. Sick in the head maybe. Ehehehe..." He nuzzled Alfred's chest and inhaled deeply, smiling blissfully. This was just as warm and safe and nice as he'd imagined. Alfred was warm and safe and nice. Arthur tightened his arms around Alfred's neck and played absently with the fine hairs at the base of the American's skull. "Per'aps we can dance tomorrow," he suggested happily, pressing his nose into the slight indent between Alfred's collarbones. "Mmmhmm. Tomorrow we can dance. Right now I want to cuddle. You'll cuddle with me, won't you? You said you like me. You said you're my friend. I like this. You're warm."

He fell silent when Alfred began to speak, the vibrations rumbling deep in his chest. Arthur pressed his cheek over Alfred's sternum and giggled. "You can tell me anything," he said. "Anything at all. It'll be a secret! I won't even tell me that I know. But!" He pulled back the slightest bit to stare up at Alfred. "You should tell me again in the morning. I like to know about you, Alfy. If I don't remember then I don't know, ehehehe. You can tell me now. I won't tell!"

Arthur's movements and motions were making Alfred flush again. He wonders if he really should push him away. It is warm and a bit too much so. Arthur seems to happy that he can't bring himself to let go though. "Tomorrow it is then. If your still feeling like it that is." Alfred is almost excited to see what happens in the morning. Most likely he thinks he'll get kicked for something but it might be amusing as well. "I am.. err.. cuddling you. I won't let go until you tell me too." He says resting his chin on top of Arthur's head. He was going to deal with a cranky Arthur either way and he might as well put it off until later. For now, this was kind of nice he'll admit to himself.

Alfred ignores his partners interest in knowing about him as he is trying to work up the nerve to continue speaking. Even if Arthur probably remember, saying it aloud is admitting it to himself. It is a big step for him. "Arthur, I think...I think I like men." He says voice weak.

"Mmm," he mumbled, surrounded on all sides by his partner.  He could feel Alfred's chin pressing down gently on the top of his head and smiled against Alfred's shirt. "This is nice. No one likes to cuddle with me. Don't ever let go, Alfy. I don't think I could bear it." He rested his head against Alfred's shoulder then, tilting his face upwards to listen to Alfred's big secret. 

"You like men?" he repeated, feeling giddy. Or maybe that was just another effect of the alcohol. "So? You can like men or women or even both. As long as you love someone I don't think it matters what they are." He smiled shyly. "I like men too. Well, I can sleep with anyone but right now I like men." He giggled. "I don't like sleeping with women. I don't like to be on top. You'd be on top though. You don't look like a bottom."

He buried his nose beneath Alfred's chin and sighed contentedly. "Tired," he muttered. "Don't let go, 'kay? Don't let go of me."

"It's just new to me." Alfred whispers. It occurs to him that the room is very quiet sans for the two of them and their voices. "I'm not used to this feeling when I look at.." You " Other guys." Alfred pauses as he listens to Arthur talk. Oh god he hadn't even thought about that. Top or bottom, it all seemed to complicated.

All he knew was that he liked having Arthur this close. "You can sleep here if you want." Alfred says, pulling a hand away just long enough to reach for another pillow to put behind his back as he leaned back against the side of the bed. "Just promise not to punch me when you wake up and freak out." He is tired too he finds, leaning his head down on top of Arthur's. They both smell like alcohol and probably need a shower but it seems neither of them are going to move until the next day. "Goodnigh' Arthur.."

Arthur reached up briefly to clumsily pat Alfred's cheek comfortingly. "You'll work it out," he said, snuggling into Alfred's warmth. He was asleep within moments, unconsciously clinging to his partner. 

Arthur woke to a horrendous pounding in his head. His pillow was moving-- actually, his whole bed was moving. He cracked open an eye and immediately shut it again, wincing at the light. "Fuck," he groaned, finding that his neck was sore from sleeping in a strange position. Slowly, he eased his eyes open and found himself staring at Alfred's sleeping face. "Oh bloody fuck," he moaned then. The pain in his head intensified and his stomach churned horribly. He tried to wriggle from Alfred's arms -- he'd worry about why they had cuddled and slept together later, when he wasn't about to heave up his guts all over his sleeping partner -- but couldn't loosen Alfred's grip. 

"Alfred!" he shouted then, giving Alfred a shove. The movement made his stomach twist and he clapped a hand over his mouth. "I'm going to be sick," he groaned desperately, eyes screwed shut, "let go, you dolt!"

Alfred woke up to noise and a weight on top of him. At first he freaked out and tries to get out from under whatever it was. Then he realized it was Arthur and most of his memories from last night kick back in like a swift kick to the gut. This had been close enough to what he had predicted would happen.

He releases his grip as Arthur looks dangerously to being sick. He suppresses a slight snicker as he stumbles to his own feet. "I told you, you would get sick." He says sitting down on the edge of his bed. He feels a significant lack of warmth though suddenly. His hands feel empty and his humor is gone just like that. He wondered how much Arthur remembered from last night.

Arthur shivered as Alfred moved away from him, suddenly feeling cold. But that was the least of his concerns right now. He painstakingly climbed to his feet and staggered unsteadily towards the bathroom, one hand over his mouth and the other trailing against the wall in an effort to keep his balance. 

As soon as he made it inside he collapsed to his knees in front of the toilet and began heaving. The acid burned against the back of his throat and he coughed, wheezing as he tried to take in air at the same time. He gripped the seat with white-knuckled hands as he retched again and again. Finally, he pulled back slightly and rested his forehead on one of his arms. 

"Bloody... Jones! I thought I told you to stop me from drinking!" He shouted, his voice muffled by his arm. His stomach was still churning so he knelt as still as possible, and he winced at the loudness of his own voice. "You bloody tosser!" he continued a bit more quietly, "if I could hit you now you'd be out for a month!" 

Alfred waited a moment for the noise to subside in the bathroom before he got up and walked in to make sure that Arthur was at least alright and hadn't dunked his face into the toilet or anything out of misery.

He crouches down beside Arthur and pats his back lightly. "You alright there? Looks like you had a rough wake up call." Alfred's own stomach was feeling a bit upset but he wasn't anywhere near blowing chunks and being sick.

"Hey, I did. You were really kind of insistent though. If I had left you to yourself you'd probably be getting a liver transplant right about now." Alfred says with a very very gentle back on the back. "Hey, I said no hitting! Remember!" He adds although there is no scorn in his voice.

"Belt up!" he hissed, rubbing at his chest in an effort to get rid of the burning sensation. "Just stop talking before I kill you. You never said anything about not hitting. I'll hit you as much as I bloody please!" He clambered to his feet again and staggered to the sink, where he quickly rinsed his mouth and brushed his teeth. "This is why I wasn't going to drink," he groaned, massaging his temples with one hand. "You shouldn't have let me, you certainly would be able to restrain me so don't give me that utter bullocks about me being 'insistent'!"

As soon as he was done he was back in the bedroom, clambering into his bed. He put the pillow over his face and growled. "Pull the curtains, turn off all the lights and make. No. Noise. Or I swear I will end you." He considered his upset stomach and added, "and find me a bucket of sorts. And painkillers. Now."

Alfred still found the situation rather amusing but kept that to himself. He noticed that so far even with the threats Arthur had made no move to hit him. He toke that as a good sign.

"I'm sorry." Alfred says simply as he picks up the pillows off the floor from the night before. He also picks up the blanket from his bed and drapes it over Arthur as he goes. There are many things he could think to say but none that not might already add insult in injury in this case so he saves it for later.

Alfred disappears into the bathroom for a few minutes and retrieves the trashcan and a damp rag setting them beside Arthur's bed along with a bottle of painkillers on the sidetable.

"Hey Artie..I'm going to hop in the shower..will you be alright for awhile?" Alfred asks leaning down and keeping his voice as low as possible so as not to disturb the wrath of the hungover brit.

"Fucking hell," he groaned, glaring at Alfred. Arthur scrabbled for the bottle of painkillers and popped it open. He briefly glanced at the table, gave Alfred a reproachful look for the lack of water, and dry swallowed two pills. "Yes, yes, what are you, my keeper? Go wash yourself, and don't forget behind the ears!" With that, he shoved the pillow back over his face and closed his eyes, riding out the rhythmic pounding in his skull. 

The shower sounded far too loud this morning, and Arthur contemplated wagging his classes. It was a Friday, so most people would have been wagging anyway. But no, that was against his study ethics, even though he wasn't actually a student here. He'd just have a lie-in, and struggle to his classes later. 

As he lay there, Arthur tried to sort out his memories from last night. He remembered the bar, and a bit of not-quite-drunken dancing, and bloody fucking hell he'd kissed Alfred again and he'd liked it. After that they'd gone back tothe bar but his memories dissolved there. There were vague flashes of being carried back to the room, and cuddling a pillow, and Alfred had said something that was important but he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was.  

With a frustrated sigh, he pulled the blanket up over his face and pillow,  intending to doze until Alfred emerged. 

Alfred knew he had forgotten something and made an apologetic look at the lack of water. He wonders if he should say anything else in reply and holds up his hand as he is going to but stops.

He turns around and goes back to the bathroom, stepping into his shower thankful for the hot water. He cleans off any remnants of the night before and hopes that when he is done that he will be ready for any classes that he has. He wonders if Arthur will be able to make it to his classes since he seems to be more out of sorts then anyways.

Once he was out he was in a more chipper mood, the soap made everything smell nice and he was clean. He got dressed and stepped out with his usual towel on his head. He glanced over to check on Arthur as he walked over to his bed and sat down, fiddling with pulling some socks on. He really wanted to talk to him, ask him if he was okay..How much did he remember..did he want Alfred to stay in and take care of him today? No, of course not. Arthur would never ask for that, not sober at least he reasoned.

Arthur stirred as he heard footsteps coming into the bedroom. Warily, he peeked out from under the blanket and relaxed when he saw that it was only Alfred. The pounding in his head had abated somewhat by then so he sat up slowly, rubbing at his eyes.  "If you get me some water, I'll consider not permanently injuring you," he stated, voice hoarse. Oh, how he wanted to strangle the happy American right then. It wasn't fair-- Arthur had such a low tolerance for alcohol despite drinking plenty o it, and was always hit with a monstrous hangover regardless of how much he actually drank. 

His trousers stank of alcohol so he wiggled out of them and wandered over to his bags in a long-sleeved shirt and boxers.  "What time is it?" he asked. "Are we running late yet?" Maybe he could just follow Alfred around to his classes. It wasn't like he was needed in his classes. And he'd rather not nap in class while alone.  

Alfred seems happy when Arthur sits up and nods at the request. "I still say that I told you no hitting this morning." He jokes lightly as he goes back to the sink and gets a cup of water for Arthur. He delivers it to Arthur hands, making sure that he doesn't drop it.

Alfred tried not to look as his partner wobbles around in his boxers and opts for finding the clock instead. "Um..It's a little late for our first classes but the others we could still get to." He casts a concerned looked Arthur's way finally. "Are you sure your up for it though, I mean..you did just get sick in the toilet." He says hesitantly, not wanting to poke any nerves on his already disgruntled partner.