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3:41 PM, dead of winter, south of town.
The gray skies were cut in slices by the contrails of distant aircrafts, drawing a messy grid that looked like a brutalist painting. The crisp cold wind rattled Arthur's bones as it blew through him, making his green cashmere scarf dance like graceful ribbons at the hand of a skilled dancer. Outside of a café situated next to a bar table way too high up for his reach, he wiped the crumbs of his breakfast pastry into a handkerchief and sneered at his phone screen. The last couple days he spent hooked on the device, waiting for the little dots to turn into words, then paragraphs. As much of a technophobe he was and would have preferred to stick to a landline, the modern world simply wouldn't allow him to get by without a smart device in his pocket. For once he didn't seem to mind, after all he has recently reconnected with this guy he used to tutor back in high school, though that might be a generous statement considering they had a total of two sessions before giving up on sticking to a schedule. They became friends, then penpals when Arthur moved back home, then completely lost contact.
On the other side was the guy. At first glance a charming oaf, at second a plain, regular human fighter who rolled high on his intelligence stat but a nat one critical fail on his wisdom. Nerdy, also kind of a jock, the guy next door type who was probably the protagonist of the grand sitcom we call life. He was fascinated by him, but due to their age gap being too large for comfort, their whole companionship went perfectly platonically.
But now? He's 19. Arthur is 23. Mr. American Dream somehow tracked his socials and started following him, which turned into a message, then many more.
He really grew up, huh? At a blink of an eye it seemed. The wasted years and wasted youth didn't seem to matter because Arthur has started to catch feelings for him, which this time around he let linger. Just to play with the idea, he could book a flight, find some dumb reason he would absolutely need to go back to Wisconsin suddenly and then they could meet. His greens could greet his blues, his bony hand in his, and he could take in what a man he has become.
Dreams and desires plagued him relentlessly wherever he went, because despite how much he was personally against the very concept of emotions, he sure was a hopeless romantic. Casual sex is one thing, it's fun and fills up the dead space between something more serious and more heart breaking. Something about this pursuit felt different though. More noble. Like you simply mustn't tell him this type of feeling was not a once in a lifetime thing.
He snuggled his red nose against his scarf as another breeze passed through. His heart beat rang through his eardrums and his palms began to feel sweaty. He licked his lips and mouthed his name. The faint reminiscences of his pastry were sweet but nothing compared to how sweet the name Alfred felt on his tongue.
He was like a dream, honey blond and sky blue eyed well equipped with his pearly whites, accessorized with his cheek dimples. It seemed as if the curve of his mouth always angled upwards, giving him a permanent smile. Behind the frame of his glasses he looked a lot like the alias to his super hero secret identity, much like the ones he greatly admired. Light sparked in his eyes when he got to talk about them. He got very excited over seemingly the smallest thing and his cowlick popped up like a dog wagging its tail. He was adorable, almost perfect. Almost. There was an awkward space between them, a metaphorical elephant in the room left undressed. Arthur didn't want to bring it up with him because otherwise they were hitting it on pretty sweet. How do you even bring this sort of thing up without making it awkward? Alfred changed and grew a lot since they last talked. In some ways less desirably than others.
For one, he was quite tall, a lot more taller than the sweet little thing he used to be, which Arthur was fully into. His weight was where he coyly tried to tiptoe around the line he so didn't want to draw. It didn't even make sense for them to be together, Arthur was petite and frail, he'd look out of place clinging onto Alfred's arm. He has dated men who were bigger than him, that alone was not a feat unachievable or even challenging by any means, but none were so... heavy? He wasn't sure what words he allowed himself to use in regards to Alfred's body. Of course he wouldn't want to upset him but the walking on eggshells part was on him fully. He felt awkward. He had fallen head over heels for a guy that wasn't even normally his type. Something he wouldn't quite usually go for or be able to find attractive. But here's the thing, as established: Alfred was adorable and perfect in every other way. He was attentive and caring, his main motivation seemed to be lighting up any room he entered. A chronic people pleaser, even if a bit ego centered. He just wanted to be everyone's hero. And to Arthur he was, or he could have been. If only there wasn't this mental block in his mind that made him hesitate.
Love is not a rational thing. It doesn't follow rules. It's not something Arthur fully understood or even experienced to its full extent like it was happening to him right now. He has never felt like this before, no one has made him this happy and he didn't want to pass up on him for a minor cosmetic detail that could be easily fixed with a healthy diet and good exercise. He could maybe change him for the better like he had changed him, how he has melted his ice cold heart.
As they got more into the groove of daily texts, more phone buzzing and daydreams and awful jokes and flirting and flushed cheeks later Arthur was confident enough to drop hints he wished Alfred took better care of his body. Not too on the nose, just a teensy bit of concern for his well being Alfred immediately brushed off, saying he already did all those things, went to the gym three times a week, ate a balanced diet with a little cheating here and there. He simply couldn't punish himself by giving up his favorite foods forever. Arthur wished he could. He really wished Alfred would choose him over hamburgers but that might have been a bold and unfair ask. Like if Alfred told him he couldn't drink tea anymore, or a more accurate comparison, smoke, or get drunk like he did every now and then. That wasn't really good for his health either but Arthur justified it by thinking he was fit enough. He was naturally small and petite, really skinny without even trying to be, so he never really did. Probably ate much worse than Alfred. Probably couldn't run a mile like Alfred could. But that all doesn't matter because at least he's slim, right?
Arthur was still fighting windmills trying to get Alfred to lose weight, he hasn't given up on that but after repeated failure he really had to consider the possibility he might never be his ideal image. The two of them together. Would his arms even reach around Alfred's waist? How would their dynamic work out in bed? He wouldn't even be able to borrow his jacket because it would just be way too big on him. It was so ridiculous it pissed him off.
He started giving short answers in text, sounding uninterested during calls to see if Alfred would pick up on it, which, being optimistically oblivious, he didn't. He was mad at him for being so uncooperative, for refusing his help and having a justification for everything he criticized. Didn't he want to become better? More like his heroes? The cruelty of that thought made Arthur bite his tongue. No, he can't say that. Alfred was his hero, the one that spun his life around and opened up the world to him. Being so harsh about it was seriously not gentleman-like.
Okay fine, he didn't need to become a swimsuit model but could he at least get a little skinnier? Maybe if he could eat a little less? The boy had a huge appetite, that he knew. He posted a lot of pictures of heart attack inducing greasy foods on Instagram, like he had the health insurance to eat such things. Just looking at the pictures gave Arthur a heartburn and he started to get nauseous. How could he eat like that and not see a problem with it? He had his daily superfood smoothie every morning and then proceeded to eat junk for the rest of the day, or so Arthur thought. Maybe he could teach him how to cook so he wouldn't have to eat out as much? What is he thinking, Arthur slapped himself mentally for he was the worst cook he and his friends knew and he would have caused a fire just by boiling water. In reality, unlike him, Alfred was an okay cook, mostly specializing in hearty homemade dinners and grilled meats. Much beyond the capabilities of Arthur. He didn't just eat fast food either, most of the time he made a point of having at least one veggie or fruit in his meals and no, french fries didn't count. He knew what his body needed to keep up with his exercise routine and high energy, it was more so that he loved to treat himself to a little cheat meal or two, and admittedly he did go overboard, you could see so much in his waistband but at least he washed all that down with a diet coke so it was healthy, he justified.
As the two grew closer Alfred felt comfortable enough to confide in Arthur about his secrets. Like, for whatever reason, only god knows, he thought it was a well kept secret that he loved to cheat on his diet so much. The instagram pictures were one thing, they didn't pop up on a daily basis but Alfred let Arthur in on a secret, that he was allowing himself to get a little indulgent treat every day to keep him motivated. He even sent some pictures: milkshakes, donuts, breakfast pastries, some snacking on chips here, some sugary drinks there. Arthur was horrified and he hated to admit, a little grossed out. All that definitely wouldn't have agreed with his stomach, he was wondering how Alfred could go on without the acid not burning a hole through his torso. It was a hopeless pursuit, Alfred was too far gone. He didn't see a problem with his diet or his weight because he thought he could take care of himself just fine. It made Arthur exhale out his soul through his mouth because he thought very much not so. He can't change him.
Arthur has spent a good portion of day not replying to Alfred's eager texts in case they would have pissed him off even more. Right now, he wanted nothing to do with Alfred's wacky shenanigans and bubbly personality. Rainclouds were hanging over his head as he sulked and grieved the Alfred that never was. The full potential he would never reach, that he could if he put his mind to it. He was smoking in his hotel room, burning little holes in the cheap blankets with the stray wisps of ash from his cigarette. He wasn't usually like that but he felt like he could go through the whole pack right now, thinking about how unhealthy Alfred's lifestyle choices were and how he has failed him because he didn't succeed in talking his ear off about it. It's no use. He just wouldn't listen to reason. Over the years with all the insults thrown at him he has developed a thick skin about it. He wasn't gonna budge.
Arthur stared at the plane tickets on the three legged hotel nightstand. He was going to fly in early tomorrow and have him in his arms as the sun started to set in the afternoon. Maybe he should cancel… He didn't feel like anything, he was as empty as his box of cigarettes, yet filled with regrets.
His boyfriend. His dear beloved boyfriend expected to see him tomorrow and he couldn't disappoint him further.
After a bad sleep tossing and turning, haunted by the low quality voice call hearing Alfred's voice excitedly gushing over him and laying out all the adventures he had planned for the two, terrorized by visions of Alfred's breakfast and torn apart by his own desperation, he had an even less enjoyable plane ride to Milwaukee stuck between a screaming child kicking the back of his seat and some asshole with their shoes off, listening to his alien conspiracy podcast on full volume in front of him. He was drained and woozy when he arrived. Looking around the terminal with a dizzy head, seeing a blurry outline of an overly excited American rush towards him.
Alfred pecked him on the cheek and grabbed him, spinning him around the air as he pulled him in for a tight hug.
“Oh, babe I'm so happy to see you again! You're soooo much smaller than I expected you to be, haha! Though you were small on my phone screen, so not THAT small but- You know what I mean, right?” he babbled, eyes shining bright.
“Uhuh.” Arthur muttered, still fighting the jetlag. He wasn't quite sure if he was still alive at this moment or that he died and fell into his death on the plane. Nothing felt real. Alfred eagerly dragged him along yapping all the way it took them to get to his car.
He pulled the seat back, got in, then readjusted it for safety and comfort. He was quite a big guy with a small car.
“Great.” Arthur thought as he sourly slumped down on the passenger seat.
Alfred didn't seem to mind his low energy levels, he more than made up both sides of the conversation by how much he was running his mouth. Excited rambling about movies and tasty treats and all the romantic couple-y stuff the two could finally do together. Arthur sat there, either staring out of his head, his eyes going in and out of focus or entirely fixated on Alfred and his seat belt extender.
They had finally arrived at his place after some traffic and a necessary stop at a drive through. Arthur didn't feel any more lively but the sun kept burning his eyes so he at least concluded that would mean he's still alive.
Alfred, being a chivalrous hero, opened the door for him then held his hand leading him to the front door. He was still beaming, stealing glances of Arthur to see if he got any less out of it.
The tiny British man sat down on Alfred's spacious sofa and breathed in a lung full of his air freshener. It smelled like cotton candy. Alfred arrived in a second, balancing a black tea, some milk and sugar and some sweet treats in his grasp. He set them down in front of Arthur.
“I know you don't like coffee but we NEED to get some caffeine into your system somehow. I appreciate that you are tired, but you can sleep when you are dead, isn't that right?” he laughed.
His cheery voice filled the room but it didn't help sweetening Arthur's mood one bit. Speaking of sweetening Alfred was shoving heaping spoonfuls of some bogus zero sugar, zero calorie sweetener into his coffee. He stirred the cup then sat down next to the lifeless body of his boyfriend, scooting up to him.
Arthur gave very short answers, he didn't even have it in him to scoff and huff like he usually tended to do. They watched some action movie Alfred had seen a thousand times and thus talked all the way through. Then they found themselves in bed, together, getting ready to sleep. Just a second ago Alfred was talking through his toothbrush and a mouthful of foam, asking Arthur if he brought his - he had forgotten.
Now he was snuggling up in his stupid star spangled blanket saying his goodnights and sleep wells to Arthur.
Arthur turned away from him and it didn't take long for him to fall asleep.
He sat up with his heart racing, the curtains were drawn in, warm light filtering into the room, as Arthur tried to collect himself from the nightmare he just had. But it was real and called “yesterday”, the display on Alfred's digital clock read 2PM. Did he really sleep that long?
Like clockwork, Alfred opened the bedroom door and rushed in to sit at the foot of the bed, kicking his feet.
“Good morning, sleepyhead! Are you feeling any better today? Is this the regular grouchy or extra grouchy?” he inquired.
Arthur, well rested, didn't have any excuses anymore. He looked around the room that Alfred did his best tidying up in. Comics and collectibles all over the shelves, a bean bag chair and a Star Wars Lego set on his desk, half assembled. It's like a child was living there. It was a stark contrast with the huge man sitting at the foot of his bed, tall and wide, even more so than Arthur had expected.
“Did… did you gain weight?” it slipped out Arthur's mouth.
“Geez, that's harsh first thing in the morning. I'm guessing extra grouchy, it is.” he shook his head.
“N-no I'm fine. Good morning, love.” Arthur did his best impression of a person that was indeed, fine.
They have spent another day together. It was obvious Alfred was excited, he was all over him and trying to get his spirits to stick a bit onto him too. Arthur did his best to enjoy the activities, but he really couldn't keep up with Alfred's energy. They went hiking and Arthur spent the whole thing wheezing, out of breath and covered in sweat while Alfred hopped around the terrain with a skip in his step. It was one of Alfred's favorite activities and favorite spots, so as they sat on top of the hill on the lone bench he naturally tried to lean in for a kiss, wrapping his arms around him which Arthur protested saying he was all wet and sticky.
Alfred had packed them lunches, so although it was getting late, they had an impromptu picnic looking at the sunset. Arthur looked at his lover as the golden rays reflected in his glasses, the wind blowing into his blond hair. Alfred laid his head into Arthur's lap and giggled. He looked really cute, that he had to admit. Maybe cute enough to make him forget about his aching back.
Next thing you know, they were getting ready for bed. Arthur finally had the chance to take a shower and wash himself of the grime and sweat he had accumulated. He wondered why Alfred didn't even break a sweat. He guessed he had walked the trail many times before. Was he wrong about him? When Alfred told him he was quite the gym rat he straight up thought he was exaggerating. He didn’t look the part, or at least what Arthur would assume an avid gym goer would look like. He hasn’t set foot in one before, god forbid, so he was none the wiser.
He rinsed his hair then wrapped himself in a towel borrowed from Alfred. It was huge compared to him, it took a few rounds to get over his tiny frame. He smelled his detergent on the fabric. Like cotton and vanilla, just the way Alfred's clothes smelled. He thought about the American's attempts to get close to him during the day, whenever he tried to give him a proper hug, Arthur had pushed him back. He was being a dick, wasn't he? Alfred seemed to handle himself just fine, so why was there still the mental block in his mind? Suddenly everything he thought was true about human bodies flew through the window. Everything he knew about attraction too, because in his heart he was still really attracted to him. No, that couldn’t be. The two of them together… That was still too ridiculous to fully comprehend.
Later, they laid next to each other in bed, staring at the fluorescent stars Alfred had stuck on the ceiling. Arthur felt something in his stomach, this sinking feeling that fluttered all around him. He was getting butterflies.
He couldn't contain himself any longer.
He turned to Alfred, grabbed his head and kissed him slowly, honestly. Alfred returned the gesture and inched closer to him. His skin felt warm, soft to his touch, the tan silken sheet stretched over the arches of his stomach rolls. His skin, sweet and peachy keen, so plush and squishable. For a second he caught himself feeling sinful, ashamed of how the sudden craving for Alfred has overtaken his mind like some sort of guilty pleasure. Like he's some sort of pervert for taking it in with all of his senses. Suave, sexually well experienced Arthur felt like a dumb teen again all of a sudden. Clumsy and awkward, unsure what to do, how to touch, how to love.
As he hovered over Alfred's increasingly reddening skin he was struck in the heart by an arrow of love he didn't think even existed. How Arthur loved him and that made him the most beautiful person in the world. All this time he was grieving some idealized image of him that couldn’t possibly exist in the current timeline, and he failed to consider that maybe he didn’t need to change for him to be lovable. The only thing that really needed to change was Arthur’s mentality. It felt so nice to finally be free of his judgement and internalized shame, to be able to enjoy his company for who he was, the way that he was. For once, he was thankful to receive more of a good thing - he thought, wrapping his arms around him, even if they wouldn’t reach all the around.