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“Alright, I’ll bite... What are you doing back there?”
“Go away, Jones!”
“Sheesh!! Touchy! Maybe you’d be a little less angry if you weren’t pressed up against an actual dumpster? You know, just as a general suggestion! Why are you even back there, anyhow?!”
Arthur scowled, eyes glaring daggers straight through the American’s clearly stupid, empty little head. “I’m searching for buried treasure. What does it look like I’m doing?”
“I mean, it looks like you’re pressed up against this smelly old thing for no reason, to me...”
“Oh for the love of—! Of course there’s a reason! No one in their right mind would be up against this thing for fun!”
“Care to enlighten me then, oh wise one?”
Arthur groaned, but conceded. He opened his jacket just wide enough to reveal a long piece of stretch of paper briefly, before tucking it safely back in place against his chest and closing the jacket again. “I have to turn in an art project today, and of bloody course it just had to be due on the day a torrential downpour decided to start out of nowhere...”
“Ohhhhhhh...”
“Precisely.”
“Can’t you just...” Alfred gestured about his person, patting here and there on his chest as though trying to illustrate a point. “I don’t know, tuck and run and hope for the best?”
“It would still get wet. This jacket isn’t waterproof.”
“Okay, so? Still better to get it turned in than to not turn in anything at all! A little bit of rain isn’t going to damage it that badly!”
Arthur straightened, staring at Alfred vacantly and desperately all at once. His green eyes seemed to somehow darken, as though illustrating all hope was truly lost. “It’s a watercolor.”
“Oh. Ohhhhh... Well, shit.” Alfred hissed through his teeth, sounding genuinely sympathetic.
“Aptly put.” Arthur sighed, wincing as the rain began to come down even harder.
Just great.
“I have to admit, though, I’m kind of surprised.” Arthur raised a brow, confused, and Alfred couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the expression. “It just seems so very unlike Mr. Student Body President—” Alfred uttered the title in a lighthearted but funny tone and Arthur felt his eye twitch, completely unamused. “—to not plan for something like this to happen. You’re usually so prepared!”
“Well, pardon me!” The blond huffed. The humidity from the rain was further disheveling his hair and, combined with his anger and irritation, quite comically making him appear the very picture of an incredibly disgruntled, waterlogged cat. Alfred had to fight very hard to stifle a laugh at the accidental mental comparison. “I’ll have you know that I was quite prepared this morning!”
“Really?” Alfred arched a brow, clearly unconvinced, and just barely managed to contain his laughter as he continued to be subject to the Brit’s grumpy ire.
“Yes, really!” Arthur hissed as he held up a very sad, inverted umbrella for the American to see.
This time, Alfred couldn’t restrain his laughter and chortled uncontrollably. “Dude!! Oh my god! I think you pissed something off, bad!!” He ignored the other teen’s indignant protests, swiping at the tears that collected in his eyes as he struggled to contain himself. “I mean— Just— Like what honest-to-god horrible luck!”
“SHUT UP!”
“Alright, well, I guess that settles it, then.” Alfred declared resolutely, cutting off his own laughter to compose himself immediately.
Arthur felt a cold wave of dread wash over him. He stared blankly at the boy before him, the tone he’d spoken in making him almost afraid to ask. “Settles what. What are we settling.” He said it in the least question-esque manner possible, half-hoping and half-praying that the teen would suddenly decide to just leave him to his misery and move ahead as quickly as possible.
“You’re clearly having a really bad start to your day, and your luck is nonexistent this morning, so—!” Arthur felt what little hope he had of having his situation turnabout flee from the vicinity. If he were a lesser man, he might have cried. “—I’ll just have to be the hero, and save your day!”
“Oh, god. Please don’t.” Arthur uttered dryly, his expression pained. “I swear, Jones, I am not in the mood for whatever—” Before Arthur could properly process what was happening, he had a gaudy, over-the-top Avengers umbrella thrust into his arms. He sputtered. “What—”
“You can thank me later, my good man!” Alfred beamed. “You just consider that a down payment on a future I-O-U!”
“Oh, no, I won’t!” Arthur protested, attempting to thrust the umbrella back into the American’s hands. He knew all too well that Alfred’s assistance always came with a price. For all his hero complex, the teen had gained quite a reputation for that across the campus. “You take this back right now!”
“Sorry, can’t hear you! The rain is just so loud!” Alfred laughed as he stepped away, into the rain, and began gathering his bomber jacket up over his head to create a makeshift rain shield.
“I MEAN IT, JONES! Get back here!!”
“Yeesh!! You know, you’re being pretty rude to me considering that I’m the one saving your project grade right now, dude!”
“I am not about to have you holding this over my head later! Take this back right now!!”
“Aww, come on! You’re being a bit dramatic now, aren’t ya?”
“Dramatic about not knowing what mysterious, nonsensically bizarre favor is going to get called in later? No!! I’m being quite reasonable, actually!”
“Oh, is that what’s bothering you?” Alfred’s eyes lit up in realization, looking almost relieved and confusing Arthur further. “I already know the exact favor I’m calling in, so I can tell you now if you want! That sound good? Informed consent and all that? You can weigh the pros and cons yourself and if, after, you’re really still opposed, then I’ll get out of your hair no questions asked.”
Arthur felt his brows raise, surprised. Alfred seemed more... Serious, somehow. More... Genuine, than usual.
How utterly bizarre.
He paused, contemplating the offer a moment, before sighing as he realized he really did not have anything to lose by hearing him out at the very least. “Alright... What’s the favor?”
To his astonishment, Alfred’s cheeks lit up with the faintest pink glow, expression becoming almost shy. Sky blue eyes met bright green as the teen grinned up at him, the action somehow sheepish and contradictorily confident all at once.
“Let me take you out to dinner this weekend.”
“Let you...” Now, it was Arthur’s turn to flush. He felt the blood rising to his face and ears immediately as the implications hit him. “Oh.”
“I promise it won’t be at a McDonald’s, for what it’s worth!” Alfred tittered, becoming more and more animated with each passing second as he blathered on. “It doesn’t have to be dinner if you don’t want it to be, actually! We could go to a movie or go rollerskating or do something else instead!”
“So...” Arthur swallowed, mouth suddenly and ironically very dry despite the dampness surrounding them. “A date, then...?”
“Whoa-oh, Arthur! Wow! I thought you’d never ask!”
Arthur sputtered and turned bright red, caught off guard. “I—!! You—!”
“So!” Alfred continued, unbothered, cutting off the teen’s potential protests. A bright, self-satisfied grin on his face told Arthur he clearly knew that he had already won. “Should I pick you up at eight on Friday, then?”
Arthur contemplated telling him no. He really did. But...
He shifted the umbrella in his hands to adjust it, holding it up properly above his head before turning to meet Alfred’s now very expectant gaze. His eyes softened as he registered a hint of nervousness fluttering about in the teen’s eyes. It was so unlike him, and yet, somehow, so very endearing.
“Very well... I accept.” And he couldn’t help the smile that fought its way onto his face as the American beamed up at him, eyes bright and newly flushed face grinning wide at him, his relief and excitement clear for any and all to see. “It’s a date.”