Author's Notes:

Since writing Don't Blink, I'm a bit addicted to long, angsty stories; possibly even two-shots. That's my new thing now. I'm better at two-shots because they're more than just one chapter, but not so long like multiple chapter stories that I tend to neglect and feel guilty over…

I hope you dig wangsty two-shots as well, or else you probably shouldn't read this story.

Enjoy.

Monday, November 1

It was a ritual, really. Just something to do to take a load off and forget about the stresses that society pushed onto people. With a hectic life of running from home to work, staying hours upon hours until caffeine wouldn't even cut it anymore, paying bills, grocery shopping, and fitting three to four hours a night (if lucky) to sleep, taking thirty minutes for himself every weekday didn't seem like such a selfish act.

Arthur shut his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck painfully, shoulders slumped forward as he let the cool air dance across his sore muscles. Despite the small layer of snow littering the ground and coating the tops of trees to turn them from broccoli sprouts to cauliflower, Arthur still found this one place in the park to be tranquil.

So much work and no play made Arthur Kirkland an angry, tired, somber, and tired man.

Did he mention he was tired?

For the past week, this had been his spot. This one blue park bench had been his only place to relax before going back to his fast-paced life where many people depended on him without wanting to get to know him. And he loved this spot; came to look forward to his thirty minutes in the park every day. It was his treat for being such a hard working fellow.

Arthur leaned back against the cool plastic and shut his eyes, enjoying the sounds of people walking by, the birds still chirping, and the dull lull of traffic off in the distance. He became immersed and let go, folding his hands across his trench coat and sighing.

He was too involved with his free time that he didn't quite register the crunching of boots on the snow heading steadily closer. He didn't notice until a soft plop touched his ears as the bench jumped momentarily, a body flopped ungracefully onto the other end.

Arthur opened his eyes, looking at the gray sky above before he craned his neck curiously to see a mop of blonde hair sticking out of a ridiculously large coat, one stubborn cowlick standing above all the rest. He blinked, as if this wasn't registering, before the body stretched their legs out, a stiff groan being torn from their throat.

He paused.

Someone was ruining his sanctuary.

Assuming the boy – yes, now that he got a closer look, he could tell that it was a young boy – would vacate the premises in a few minutes, stopping to recollect himself from a "harsh" day of school, Arthur left it alone. But as the minutes gathered to nearly reaching ten, Arthur began to frown to himself.

This kid was eating up time from his thirty minutes. Where did he get the nerve to come and sit on this very park bench and text and blow loud bubbles with his gum and hum. No; Arthur shook his head and straightened up, suit rustling under his coat as he did so. He drew the line at humming.

"Excuse me," Arthur said politely, leaning forward ever so slightly to catch the boy's attention. The blonde merely glanced up at him through his glasses before looking back at his phone.

"Hm?"

Arthur mentally scolded the lad for his poor posture. Were parents really so out of the loop that they couldn't keep their children from slouching?

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound rude, but do you think you could possibly move?" Arthur asked, voice coated with the persuasion he used daily in his office. He felt the corners of his lips twitch, wanting nothing more than to frown when the boy didn't even bother looking up from his cellular device. No manners, huh?

"Oh, sure. No problem," came the cheerful response, making Arthur relax. Good, now he could get back to unwinding. It took a moment, for the boy had to finish up his text message, before the American picked up his backpack and scooted further down the bench, resting at the farthest possible edge away from Arthur.

The Briton hesitated before the realization that his words had been misinterpreted finally clicked in his mind. He spoke up once more, sounding as polite but forceful as possible. "I don't mean to bother you again, but I'm afraid you misunderstood my request. You see, I was asking you to leave." The blonde glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. "As in, not sit here."

The boy stared a long while, his deep blue eyes unnerving Arthur as he waited for a reaction. Just as quickly as the last time, the American focused back on his phone and snorted, squashing any remains of civility in their conversation. "It's a free country, dude."

Arthur slowly let his brow furrow slightly. "Yes, it technically is, but freedom works both ways. You also have the freedom to move and find another bench to sit on."

"Aaaaaand I'm not going to do that."

Well, this child was positively insufferable. "Even though I'm asking such a simple request, you won't do it to be kind?"

"Nope," the blonde responded, popping the 'p.' Arthur curled his fingers into his numb palms.

"What is your name?" he asked with a strained voice. The boy looked up at him curiously through the fur of his brown jacket clinging to his rosy cheeks and red nose.

"Alfred," he responded cautiously. "Why?"

"No reason. I just wanted to put a name to the overall grime that is the impolite youth of America."

Alfred sat up at that, the light of his cell screen no longer reflecting off of his glasses. "Hey, you can't label me like that."

"I believe I just did. Children today apparently have no manners. I'm surprised you could even talk without having that contraption glued to your hand communicate for you," Arthur griped. He was angry once again. This was his bench; his. And by God, if this little brat wasn't going to move, then he would damn well throw a hissy fit. Thirty minutes wasn't a lot of time. Did this little monster have to be so inconsiderate that he couldn't let him have thirty fucking minutes a day to himself?

He would surely go mad.

Alfred gawked indignantly before pouting, his voice louder in retaliation. "I have the right to sit where I want. Just because you are so old that you don't even know how to use a cell phone doesn't mean that you can insult me. It's just a bench. Why don't you go find another one?"

Arthur sputtered. "I was here first!"

"I don't see your name on it!"

"You're being ridiculous. Does that spot mean so much to you that you can't leave for ten bloody minutes?" Arthur growled, his high blood pressure nearly hitting the roof. He felt himself becoming defensive as Alfred stuck his nose up haughtily in the air.

"Yes. As a matter of fact, it does! I love this bench. I'm going to get married here and conceive my children here and sit here every day until I die!"

Arthur glared. "You're insane and absolutely crude."

"Thank you!" Alfred countered mockingly. Arthur didn't think it was possible to hate someone so quickly, but Alfred seemed to be breaking the record. His patience was at an all time low. He hadn't had lunch and hadn't slept the night before, too busy working on a project that was eating up all of his time, and now his alone time was shattered because of some stupid American boy with the bluest eyes he'd ever seen.

"You're a right riot, you know that? I can't even comprehend how your parents even decided to keep you," Arthur exclaimed, wagging his finger in Alfred's face. Alfred all but head-butted the Briton as he leaned in, sticking his finger accusingly into Arthur's face as the older male had done.

"Get your finger out of my face."

"You get your finger out of mine." Arthur smacked his hand away. Alfred retaliated by smacking Arthur's away. Arthur stood up with a scowl, causing Alfred to stand up as well, not wanting to seem small against this very intimidating man with green eyes flashing dangerously at him. They stood there with sneers on their faces for a long while before Arthur felt a growl low in his chest, spinning on his heels and marching away.

He didn't even spare another look back to see Alfred's reaction as he pulled up his sleeve and looked at his watch, seething.

That damn child ate up the rest of his relaxing time. Now he was tenser than ever.

Tuesday, November 2

Arthur rubbed his hands together and blew a waft of warm air over his skin as he inhaled the cool outside air. After a particularly early and particularly grueling meeting earlier that particular morning, Arthur was thankful to leave after his lunch and resume his spot on his park bench.

He felt like the weight on his shoulders was getting heavier with each passing month; more work and less free time. He couldn't even fathom his daily routine anymore without this bench.

With a grateful sigh, Arthur leaned back and watched as two women walked passed him in long coats to keep the November chill at bay.

It was times like these that made him want to burn his therapist's card that he kept in his top desk drawer. Who needed to talk out all of their problems and negative feelings when he felt just as good sitting alone without feeling pressured to think or even move?

He hunkered his face into his coat and wiggled his toes in his dress shoes. This was as good as it got…

Until he heard a voice that was like nails on a chalkboard. Upon hearing said voice, every hair on Arthur's body stood on end as he looked up and down the pathway with dread. No. Couldn't be.

His throat closed in on itself when he saw the familiar face of Alfred, too busy kicking at a twig in the snow with a vacant look in his eyes, face buried in his scarf that rested just below his chin.

"Oh, for the love of God and all His apostles," Arthur muttered under his breath and cursed. He stiffened instantly when his eyes locked with two innocent blue eyes before Alfred stopped, body in front of the bench. Arthur stilled and waited, hoping that Alfred would just continue walking by. He wasn't callous enough to sit down for spite, was he?

Alfred watched Arthur blandly, seeming to secretly enjoy the distress fogging over the back of his eyes before he unceremoniously plopped himself onto the same corner he had the previous day. Arthur mentally shrieked, pulling out all of his hair and stomping his feet. On the outside, however, he simply fumed.

"Howdy," Alfred greeted nonchalantly, though his voice didn't seem chipper. It sounded as though it was just a mechanical response that he followed daily. "Didn't expect to see you here again."

"Nor I you," Arthur grudgingly admitted.

Alfred stretched his legs out like a cat as he had the other day before stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. "Nice day, huh? Great day to sit on a bench in the park."

"Quite." Arthur let out an edgy breath through his nostrils before rubbing his temples soothingly. "This particular bench?"

"Oh, it's the best. For some reason, it's never too cold or too warm here. It's like the sun hits it just right to make everything balanced and… What's the word I'm looking for?"

Arthur begrudgingly shook his head. This was absurd. Two days in a row he had to endure such a presence? Some greater power was surely testing him for this. Ignoring the fact that the sun wasn't out and hadn't been for many a week now, Arthur answered. "Serene?" he offered, making Alfred shake his head.

"No, not serene. More like… calm."

"That means the same thing," Arthur informed, feeling a headache already forming. Alfred smiled a lopsided smile at him.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes."

"Well, shit. I've been using that word completely different," he laughed, acting as though the realization was the funniest thing in the world. Arthur merely cringed at the melodious pitch of the boy's chortles and shied away, bottom nearly falling over the edge of the bench. This wasn't fair.

It was silent a few minutes before Alfred decided to ruin it by speaking once more. Arthur wanted to reach over and slap the blonde, but decided against it in case he could be charged with child abuse. "So, like, what? Are you a chimney sweep or something?" Alfred asked genuinely, making Arthur gape at him.

"I beg your pardon?"

Alfred grinned and gestured to Arthur's attire. "Well, you're all neat and primpy, plus you've got that whole 'step in time' accent going on. You're Scottish, right?"

"I most certainly am not. And aside from your crude allegations, not even taking into account that they were British in Mary Poppins, I don't see why I would have to disclose my occupation."

"Ooh. So secretive. Are you a secret agent?" Alfred joked, pulling at the strings from his jacket.

"Yes. You may identify me as 007," Arthur replied, rolling his eyes cynically. This boy was a simpleton. A simpleton who wouldn't for the life of himself shut up.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Bond," Alfred grinned, cheeks pushing up into his eyes that were littered with mirth. Arthur smiled dryly.

"Charming," he drawled, reaching into his coat and fisting around for something. He found it quickly and pulled out his wallet, Alfred watching curiously as Arthur began to remove a few bills from its contents. "Not that I don't enjoy talking to intelligent people such as yourself with no built in filter for your mouth, I am willing to offer you fifty American dollars if you shut your howling screamer." Alfred's eyes widened in awe at the money waved in front of his face. "Indefinitely."

Alfred looked up at the seriousness radiating off of the Briton's face before he smiled. "You serious?"

"As a heart attack."

Alfred popped a large bubble before sucking his gum back into his mouth, showing off his sparkly whites. "Those are pretty serious. Sure, I'm in." He stuck his hand out and waited as Arthur placed the bills into the other's hand. He pulled back quickly before Alfred could grab the money, Alfred giving him an odd look at the action.

"I'm serious. This is buying your silence. Not a chuckle or hum or very obvious observation that you find ludicrously clever."

Alfred nodded. "I got it. Icksne on the alkingte." Alfred made a motion as if zipping his lips and throwing away the key. Arthur narrowed his eyes but reluctantly lowered the money into Alfred's hand, pulling his arm back quickly before any skin on skin contact could be administered.

Alfred held up the money and beamed, looking at them front to back. "Woah, it's legit. You weren't fooling me."

"Ah-ah-ah," Arthur tsked. "Absolute silence."

Alfred nodded and sank back against the bench comfortably, silently snickering to himself. Easiest fifty bucks he'd ever made! Arthur, on the other hand, couldn't agree more. Best fifty dollars he had ever spent. He checked his watch to see fifteen minutes to spare.

With a contented breath, the Briton relaxed and lolled his head back, hands stuffed warmly into his pockets. Finally; sweet silence.

He could get used to this. Alfred wasn't such an annoying little berk if he just shut his fat gob. With time, the tenseness from life in general started to fade away, Arthur slipping into his own little world of peace and serenity as the seconds added up. The soothing faces of unicorns and fairies made him smile and unwind, the smell of cinnamon and peppermint permeable in his mind's eye.

He was in heaven.

… Until a crinkling sound shook his inner world like an earthquake, tearing it apart at the seams.

Arthur furrowed his brow until the noise went away. He brushed it off and began to sink back into his happy spot when the same horrid noise disturbed his vision like a rock thrown into tepid water. Arthur crinkled his nose as more shuffling reached his ears, forcing him to open his eyes and glance quickly over at Alfred, who was staring out at a couple of toddlers trying to feed the pigeons with their mom, munching noisily on a candy bar.

Arthur had to rub his eyes to believe what he was seeing. The boy devoured the chocolate treat in a matter of seconds! Alfred fished out another from his backpack and tore it open harshly, the wrinkling of the plastic hurting Arthur's eardrums.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked.

Alfred blinked and turned his curious vision to the Briton eyeing him heatedly. He continued to chew his candy until Arthur huffed, waving him off. "You can answer me."

At this, recognition crossed Alfred's face and he swallowed, licking at the corner of his lips. Arthur wanted to kick himself for how endearing such a simple action could be. He blamed it on his stress. "Eating."

"You're making noise."

Alfred shrugged. "Sorry?"

Arthur frowned and tapped his foot restlessly on the cement path. "You're not allowed to make any noise. Give me back my money if you're going to go against our deal."

Alfred swallowed another bite and shook his head. "Hey, no can do, man. You just said I couldn't talk."

"But you're being equally loud right now!" Arthur declared, exasperated.

"Sorry, pal. The deal was that I couldn't talk, not that I couldn't eat. The verdict stands," Alfred hummed, turning his attention back to the toddlers stumbling over themselves to get away from the unpredictable New York birds. Arthur felt like ripping out his hair.

Bollocks to him.

With a huff, Arthur sharply turned away, shutting his eyes harshly and intending to still find some way to relax and enjoy the rest of his time. Sadly, he winced and grimaced at every crinkle, every smack, and every loud gulp that Alfred produced. It was like some horrible episode of the Twilight Zone with a world void of peace and quiet.

Before Arthur knew it, his watch timer went off, prying his eyes open and revealing him to a horrible reality with a virus named Alfred. He stiffly pulled up his sleeve and turned it off, sitting up slowly and glaring across the way. The people walking in his line of vision scurried away at the intensity behind his gaze.

Arthur got to his feet and straightened his collar out, slowly starting to meander back to his office. Alfred looked up from all his chewing and waved, calling out with a mouth full of food. "Have a nice day, and thanks for the cash!"

Arthur cringed.

Dear Lord, what had just happened?

Wednesday, November 3

"No."

"What?"

Arthur just shook his head and held out his hands, as if the action alone would keep the American making his way towards the bench stop. Arthur stared stubbornly at Alfred, who stood in front of him with a curious and slightly amused look in his eyes. "No, you're not sitting here again. Not today," Arthur explained, this time sitting in the exact center of the bench. He didn't want to make the same mistake he'd done the past two days and leave space for another body to sit comfortably.

"It's a–" Alfred started until Arthur cut him off.

"Yes, a free country. I know, I know. But you're just going to have to find another place to sit today. You're not sitting here."

"Says who?" Alfred asked and craned his neck, not looking particularly upset over this situation. He looked actually like he was a little entertained, which just made Arthur's blood boil all the more. This wasn't funny! "I have just as much a right to sit here as you do. Even more so since I was actually born here, actually. You were born in France or something."

Arthur grit his teeth at being lumped together with the French. Not an insult could be worse. "I have citizenship here. But that's beside the point; you cannot sit here today."

Alfred let his gaze linger on Arthur's face for a long while, making the Briton feel a bit nervous, his stomach squirming uncomfortably before Alfred shrugged. "There's no room, huh?"

"None," Arthur clarified obstinately.

"It would just be really awkward if I decided to sit down, then, huh?" Alfred said, rocking back on his heels.

"Very."

With an understanding bob of the head, Alfred shifted his body as if he were going to leave. Arthur relaxed a little at that, sitting up not so defensively. In the blink of an eye, Alfred sat himself down on his usual corner, body pressed up next to Arthur, heat radiating off of him in waves. Arthur blinked, slowly taking this information in as he stared wide-eyed like a deer caught in the headlights when Alfred turned to look at him.

He could feel Alfred's breath as he spoke, their faces close enough that Arthur could see things more clearly than he had been able to before, like the dimple on Alfred's left cheek when he smiled, or the little freckles on his nose. "I'm sure I can fit."

Arthur scurried away, face aflame in shock as he clung to his side of the bench, watching as Alfred straightened himself out from Arthur's quick movement to get away, the blonde nearly toppling over now that Arthur's body wasn't there to hold him up.

He laughed in amusement and pointed at Arthur, who was looking at the younger male as if he'd just sprouted a second head. "You should see your face."

With jerky movements, his joints feeling like they were covered with cement, Arthur leveled himself out and tried to regain his composure. All right, he never actually thought Alfred would try to practically sit in his lap. He underestimated what the boy would go through to keep this spot. He really wanted this bench, didn't he?

"Why won't you go away?" Arthur bemoaned silently and placed his face into his hands in frustration.

Alfred snuggled back into his jacket and slumped down lazily on the bench. "Ah, don't be like that. Sharing isn't so bad. Didn't your kindergarten teacher ever teach you to share?"

"I skipped kindergarten," Arthur grit out, casting eyes as sharp as knives in Alfred's direction. The dimwitted boy didn't even flinch. He was acting like Arthur's disdain was just a game.

"Well, aren't you the smart one. I can see you missed out on the people skills as well. You missed a big portion of how to function in everyday life, pal," Alfred explained, clicking his tongue against his teeth.

Arthur wanted to bash his head against a tree. This was insufferable. It had taken him so much time just scouting out an appropriate place close enough for walking distance from his work and quiet enough for him to collect his thoughts. There was no way he was going to give up his bench just because of one loudmouthed dozy American.

"Aw, now don't look at me like that. You're going to make me feel like I'm not wanted or something," Alfred teased when seeing the pure abhorrence behind Arthur's leveled stare. "Here, look, if it'll make you feel better, I won't try and chat with you at all. I'm just here to chill for a little bit, that's all. I'll do my own thing, you do yours. Sound cool?"

Arthur didn't bother saying anything before shifting away and hunkering down with a frown. That sounded too good to be true.

Not wanting to test the waters, Arthur took Alfred up on his offer, hoping to anyone watching that he would be left alone.

As time went on, Arthur began to feel the lactic acid in his shoulders start to loosen. Not a peep was made out of the blonde beside him. Arthur was going to glance over in suspicion to see what was going on but decided against it. He didn't want to chance startling Alfred into thinking that he wanted to communicate.

So instead, Arthur watched the people passing by in silence, enjoying the quiet for the first time in many needed days.

And then Alfred had to ruin in by turning on his IPod.

Arthur wrinkled his nose in disdain, knowing it was too good to be true. The terrible music flooded into his ears with the grace of an asymmetrical ballerina as Arthur slowly looked over at Alfred, who was sitting quietly with one headphone in as he tapped his foot with the melody.

He probably didn't even know his volume was too loud.

"Your parents should beat you," Arthur grumbled, his migraine coming back.

Alfred glanced over at him and paused, pushing an unsteady smile on his face at Arthur's statement. Arthur simply scowled, getting up and walking away.

There was no point in sitting there any longer. The rest of his thirty minutes would surely be tainted by whatever garbage that was pouring out of Alfred's music device.

Damn America and their portable everything.

Monday, November 8

"I can't believe you still come here," Alfred laughed when sitting down on the oh-so-familiar blue bench. He brushed some snow off of the side and placed his backpack down.

Arthur didn't even acknowledge his presence, merely staring out into the pathway where pedestrians walked like normal. "It's my spot."

He thought after the weekend that Alfred wouldn't show up anymore. Sure, he had every weekday last week, but perhaps this week would've been different. He was dead wrong.

"Your name's not on it."

Arthur didn't look up, simply hoisted his thumb up to knock against the back of the bench. Alfred looked over curiously, his eyes widening slightly upon seeing a small black strip against the plastic, the name Arthur Kirkland typed out in precise font.

Alfred whistled. "Woah. Did you bring a label maker here or something?"

Arthur didn't say anything.

Alfred leaned forward, raising his eyebrows slightly at the flinch in Arthur's shoulders at the closer proximity before eyeing the font. "Your name's Arthur?"

No response.

Alfred leaned back and mulled that over, burying his chin into his scarf. "That's… an old man name," he finally admitted. He got a reaction that time.

Arthur sat up, looking absolutely appalled. "Excuse me?"

"What? My great, great grandpa's name is Arthur. You're like super old or something to have a name like that." Alfred paused. "Or maybe Europe's just behind on the common day names now. Did you guys experience the 80s yet?"

Arthur counted back to ten in his head. "I'll have you know that I'm not a day over thirty-five."

Alfred feigned surprise and waved his hands. "Wow, thirty-five? It's like you just graduated high school." Alfred grinned when Arthur's face flushed in embarrassment.

"At least I'm not still wearing diapers like you," Arthur countered, not caring if he sounded immature.

"Debatable," Alfred yawned into his hand. "But I don't wear diapers."

"Debatable," Arthur regurgitated Alfred's own words back at him.

"I don't. And I'm not going to set myself up so you can check."

Arthur didn't think it was possible to feel his skin crawl simultaneously when he felt like someone stuck his head in an oven. He sputtered, gawking in a totally unprofessional manner before looking away. There was always some way that this boy could get under his skin.

Sodding moron.

"You look a lot worse today. Bad weekend?" Alfred asked after a moment. He dug the front of his shoe into a pile of snow, trying to get the grass showing beneath it. Arthur kept his gaze away from his unwanted companion and flexed his fingers in his pockets.

"Lots of work to be done," Arthur stated simply.

"Don't I know the feeling," Alfred muttered with another yawn. Arthur wanted to scowl at that.

"I'm sure you do," he murmured under his breath sarcastically, low enough so Alfred wouldn't hear.

"What do you do anyway? You look like you make a lot of money," Alfred asked curiously, sitting up to watch Arthur. Arthur felt something inside him flutter nervously at being watched under such an earnest gaze.

"None of your concern."

Alfred hummed and sat back, gazing over the tree-line in the park to see the tops of very large and tall buildings. "I bet you work in a place like that; some big corporate building with high standards and long hours. You just seem like a 'grit your teeth and get it done' kinda guy."

Arthur snorted.

"I could never do that."

No, you couldn't, Arthur thought, agitated. There was no amount of work ethic in the world that could make him believe that Alfred could buckle down and get work done. He seemed like a slacker. Alfred fiddled with a button on his jacket before continuing.

"Too much work would get lonely," he said quietly, almost just to himself. Arthur stilled, not quite expecting the blonde to say that. "You gotta hate it. How could you like it? No time to yourself or for anyone else. I think that's pretty damn selfish, don't you think? People who work like a dog day in and day out don't think about people that could want to spend time with them for more than ten seconds. Kinda makes me sick."

Arthur ran his tongue over his teeth, frowning. He didn't even have to look up at Alfred to know the boy was staring far off into the distance as if he had personally experienced something similar. Being so blatantly pinned down, Alfred's repulsion with the whole corporate world out in the open, Arthur felt slightly self-conscious. Something in his stomach squirmed uncomfortably and he tensed.

"Who cares what someone like you thinks? In the great scheme of things, at least those people matter. People like you hold little value in the world. If you disappeared tomorrow, hardly anyone would even notice," Arthur bit out bitterly, not much liking Alfred insulting him or his lifestyle.

He chanced a peek through the fringe of his bangs when it was quiet too long to see Alfred smiling at him with a vacant smile, something lingering at the back of his eyes that made Arthur almost wish he hadn't said anything. It looked as though that wasn't the first time Alfred had heard similar words. And what was worse, he looked like he knew that to be true as well.

Feeling the slight bite of guilt against his innards, Arthur shifted uncomfortably. "Why don't you disappear right now, hm? Go on. Go play with your friends or build legos or something," he said, shooing Alfred away in a weak attempt to dislodge the somber mood that suddenly snuck up upon them.

Alfred rubbed under his nose and smiled, brushing a hand through his hair. "Legos? How young do you think I am?" he attempted to laugh, streams of white clouds flying from his lips at the cold climate.

"Young enough to make me feel like your babysitter. Now won't you be a good lad and give me some peace and quiet?" Arthur asked, not really expecting a serious response. He'd asked dozens of times and Alfred had yet to comply with his requests to leave. Boy, did he need to relax; he'd been double as stressed since Alfred had invaded his quiet spot.

"Why don't you just go to sleep?" Alfred asked, biting at the edge of his nail and raising an eyebrow at Arthur curiously. "I can tell that you want to. You look like a raccoon with those bags under your eyes."

"It's not that simple. It would be foolish to fall asleep defenseless in the park. I look like I make a lot of money, remember?" Arthur smiled smugly and gestured to his expensive suit. Alfred bobbed his head in agreement before continuing chewing on his nail.

"You could sleep at work or something if you don't have enough time to go home."

"When you're as old as I am, you'll understand that you can't do anything but work where you work. That is just how the human mind is wired," Arthur sighed, wishing for nothing more than to be able to sleep against his desk every day. Then he wouldn't have to deal with such shenanigans as fighting over a random park bench.

Alfred shut his eyes and snuggled back against the bench in thought. He wasn't so sure. He had school work but still managed to sleep every day in class. Sure, senior year was not a busy year, but that didn't mean that he didn't have any work to do.

"What if I said I'd watch over you?"

Arthur didn't let the words register in his mind, the words clogging against the gears in his head. "What?"

Alfred looked away, fidgeting a little. "You know, watch you so no one tries to mug you and stuff."

Arthur stared at him a long while, making Alfred dart his eyes away every now and then. Arthur sighed and looked away finally. "Preposterous."

"Why is that preposterous?" Alfred asked with a frown.

"You'd probably just rob me yourself. Heaven knows you need the money. Just look at your clothes."

Alfred held his arms out and looked down at his jacket and blue jeans. "What's wrong with my clothes?"

"They're tacky."

"No they aren't. Everyone at school wears clothes like this."

"Precisely," Arthur let out an exasperated breath and held his fingers to his forehand. "You're one of the many poor to middle class citizens who can't afford to pass up an opportunity to get some money in this economy."

Alfred scowled at that, pursing his lips angrily. "At least I don't act so high and mighty when someone is offering to do something nice for me. Forget I said anything." As if greatly offended, Alfred picked up his backpack and stormed off.

Arthur watched the boy's back as he stumbled away down the path and out of sight, mixing in with the many other people who walked through the park daily. He silently wondered if he had said too much but ended up resting the nape of his neck against the cool back of the bench.

Finally, some silence.

Friday, November 12

Arthur was surprised when he didn't see that familiar cheerful face that usually greeted him with some inane story. Up until then, for the past nine days Alfred had infected his peace like the plague. But to the Briton's surprise, that one Friday, November twelfth, Alfred did not show up.

No horrible music.

No candy crunching.

No humming or singing.

No laughter.

No bright rosy cheeks and goofy grins.

No Alfred.

Arthur didn't know what to think of it. He simply shut his eyes and breathed.

Perhaps his life and basic routine would fade back to normal.

Tuesday, November 16

Arthur literally felt his jaw drop when he saw Alfred sit himself down and turn his face away, almost in mortification.

Yes, there had been two days which Arthur had been able to consecutively enjoy the loneliness that he had come to enjoy and look forward to. But he had to force himself to sit up when seeing Alfred shyly make his way towards that blue bench and stare.

"What the blooming hell happened to your face?" Arthur blurted, momentarily stunned too much to keep his exclamation solely in his mind.

Alfred bit at his lip and pulled at his fingers in his lap before hesitantly taking a peek at the gawking Briton. Even in the dull light of the clouded sky, the snow now piling up in dreary mounds as winter approached, Arthur could clearly see the bruise along Alfred's jaw line. He almost – almost – reached out to take the boy's chin in his hands to get a better look, but caught himself at the last minute. He didn't have the right to do that.

"What do you mean?" Alfred tried to play innocent.

Arthur began to rein back control over himself as he blinked away the surprise and examined the bruise intently from afar. "Who hit you?" Arthur asked seriously. Alfred flinched at that before looking confused.

"What makes you think someone hit me?"

Arthur frowned. "Unless you're severely hemophilic, I don't think you would bruise that easily. Someone hit you."

Alfred laughed, sounding honestly surprised at Arthur's reaction. He didn't really know why, though. Even though Arthur was practically a stranger, he was still an adult. And any responsible adult (such as Arthur) would show interest in such an ugly mark marring his face.

"I just got in a little fight at school. Nothing big. You know, just typical teenage hijinks," Alfred said, brushing off the stony gaze he was receiving.

Arthur felt his frown grow longer. He somehow doubted that. Alfred seemed like he was trying to protect someone, the idea making the Englishman want to scoff. Who could be worth protecting that would hit a child? Well, Alfred technically wasn't a child, but he was still in high school, and that had to count for something.

"What about you? What happened to your face?" Alfred asked quickly, trying to stop Arthur from further questioning him as his mouth opened. Arthur stopped, huffing to himself as he ran a hand through his hair, already aware of what Alfred was referring to.

"I believe I already explained that I work long hours," Arthur mumbled. For the past day or so, he'd been walking around with dark circles under his eyes. Another weekend with overtime and an all-nighter could do that to you.

"Dude, you should take some time off or something. At least to sleep. You do sleep, don't you?" Alfred asked inquisitively, leaning close to get a better look at Arthur's eyes. They were actually kind of mesmerizing. He hadn't seen a bright shade of green like that on anyone before.

Arthur sucked in his breath through his teeth but didn't move away. He found his hands gripping the edges of the bench in as he watched Alfred's shockingly blue eyes look at him. He glanced towards Alfred's jaw, wincing at how ugly the purple mark looked up close. He felt like it hurt and it hadn't even happened to him.

"Of course I do. Probably not all day like you, but I sleep when I can," Arthur explained, gulping and ducking his head minutely. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had someone actually paying attention to his face this close.

"I'm serious. You're going to wander into traffic or something if you don't sleep more," Alfred said, sounding somewhat concerned, much to Arthur's chagrin. He didn't want someone like Alfred feeling concerned over him. He made him sick with all of his corporate selfishness, remember?

"I'm fine," Arthur protested, leaning back nervously when seeing a few curious glances shoot their way at how close they were.

Alfred blinked oddly at Arthur's reaction before leaning away slightly to give him some room. "Your ugly eye bags beg to differ," he stated bluntly.

"I'm not the only one who needs to fix his priorities," countered Arthur, tapping Alfred's bruise suddenly. Alfred yelped and placed his hand to his cheek.

"I told you, I just fell!"

Arthur didn't look convinced. "You said you got into a fight at school." Alfred's eyes widened somewhat before he looked away, pursing his lips and appearing noncommittal to the conversation.

"Th-that's right. I fell when I was in that fight."

Arthur scoffed. "Please. Your face is hideous."

"Well, so is yours," defended Alfred. Both males frowned at each other for a long while before Alfred slumped and relaxed, running a hand through his hair and looking away. "Never mind. Who cares. We're both ugly, we can agree on that."

"I don't think you're ugly–" Arthur started but stopped himself, clamping a hand over his mouth when Alfred looked at him, stunned. Arthur quickly recovered. "Yes, yes. We're both repulsive. What were you saying?"

Alfred sat back and looked unconfident again. "Oh. Um…Well, I was going to ask you something…"

"What is it?" Arthur asked indifferently, sitting up and brushing off some snow that had started to fall. He suppressed a shiver and blew warm air into his hands. Perhaps he would have to start dressing even warmer to come out here.

When Alfred didn't say anything, Arthur glanced back at him in wonder when the blonde was chewing on his lip and looking somewhat uneasy. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What?"

Alfred looked up and for a moment Arthur could see something flash behind his eyes that sent a wave of something very unfamiliar down to his toes. "Alfred?" he tried, the name tasting odd on his tongue for the first time.

Alfred quickly looked away with a grin, waving his hand and shaking his head. "No, it's stupid. I just remembered that I had something to do today. You get some sleep, all right? I'll get bored if I don't have anyone to talk to anymore," he said, gathering up his things and taking off.

Arthur stared after him, confused. "What in the world…?"

He honestly hadn't a clue what to make of that conversation.

Friday, November 19

"Sleeeeep."

"Piss off," Arthur growled, blinking rapidly to stay awake. His head felt heavy and his vision blurred around the edges. He hadn't slept in almost three days and it was starting to take a toll on him.

"Come on, Arthur. You're stupid to not sleep. Look, I'll be right here. No one's going to steal your stuff or molest you, okay?" Alfred said, trying to reason with the scowling Briton bobbing his head to stay awake. When had they become so familiar to use each other's names? Damn kid.

"Yes, because I trust someone like you to watch over me. You lost that supposed fight with your schoolmate. A right hero I have here," snickered Arthur derisively. Alfred didn't look amused, simply like a small animal with hurt feelings.

"I never said I lost."

"Oh, you lost. You have a lovely prize to show for it, too, lad," Arthur smirked at Alfred and patted his still sore cheek. Alfred pulled away and frowned.

"Dude, if you keep touching my face I'm going to have to call the cops on you."

Arthur rolled his eyes and sneezed. Stupid weather; was he going to get sick now on top of everything, too? "See? I told you. Can't handle anything yourself."

"It's just for half an hour. Get some fucking sleep already," Alfred groaned in irritation.

"Why don't you?" Arthur said. "You're looking rather tired yourself."

Alfred stopped mid-yawn, as if continuing would prove Arthur's point. "No," he denied.

"Can't pull a wool over my eyes."

"God, you're so old," Alfred sighed, plopping back against the bench with a huff. His shoulder brushed against Arthur's, making him wonder when they had started sitting towards the middle of the bench rather than plastered on the very edges.

"Old enough to be your grandfather?" muttered Arthur as he gave a hefty yawn.

"Great, great grandfather," corrected Alfred.

"Oh, my mistake."

Both sat watching the people walk by with heavy eyelids, bodies slumped and resting against one another as the weather seemed to bite at their skin with freezing teeth.

"I can't feel my toes," Alfred murmured, glancing at Arthur from the corner of his eye.

"Mmm," Arthur hummed in response, eyes already closed as he rocked forward. At the last moment, he lolled to the side and rested his head against the crook of Alfred's neck and shoulder. The American blinked at him curiously as Arthur began to snore. He jerked his shoulder.

"Arthur." He jerked it again, the Briton unresponsive, only leaning his head down so his messy hair tickled Alfred's cheek. Alfred looked down at him contemplatively before sighing. "At least you're sleeping, I guess."

Alfred didn't know how long it was that he watched the random faces of people drift by him, or how long it was that Arthur squirmed his cold, pale hand into Alfred's warm gloved one. All he knew was that even though it was snowing outside, he didn't feel quite so cold anymore.

The world continued to spin as the many pedestrians proceeded about their day, occasionally glancing at the two people nestled on that one blue bench, resting against each other for support.

If anyone looked closer they would see something more than what they would with just a passing glance. But for most people ignoring the two blondes asleep with snow sprinkled in their hair, they would just see it for what it appeared to be.

Just a park bench.