How mad will the people waiting for an update for A Heated Story be when they realize I've started a-whole-nother fic? Should I find a hiding spot yet?

Wait for someone who's always there for you.

The next video Alfred makes in his new apartment doesn't go as he planned it would. He starts out cheery, talking about his family and how they pestered him about living alone with Arthur. His face is bright red as he repeats what Matthew signed him.

"He's expecting way too much to come from this." Al finishes with a laugh. Arthur had left to get some lunch, so the American felt perfectly comfortable to talk about this. "I dunno guys. I guess I am too, actually. You have no idea how surprised I was when he said he'd stay with me. I-in the apartment, I mean."

He shifts on the little couch that sat in front of the large window. He's contemplating what to say next; not worried about wasting time on camera, since he can just edit out the dead air later. He sits up straighter as he remembers some of the comments on his last video. "Oh, yeah! Y'all don't know what my apartment looks like. I guess all you can really see if the view. Well let me tell you, this place is top-notch quality. I got a deal on this bachelor pad." He winks at the camera and continues, "I mean it is so-"

"Do you always lie to your viewers?" A voice cuts him off.

The color from Alfred's face drains as he looks past the camera to the man entering the door. Arthur's shaking drops of rain from his shaggy blond hair as he takes off his shoes.

"Only on occasion." Al replies, his hands dropping into his lap.

Arthur tsks and quickly walks behind the couch, saying, "I leave you for ten minutes and you're being untrustworthy to the people who worship you?"

The fangirls watching the video later, when its posted, would scoff at the idea of worship; while they make gifs of Arthur leaning against the couch and do pointless things like write fanfiction about the people they'd never meet.

Al looks at the other boy over his shoulder, their faces inches apart as he says, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Arthur shakes his head and looks at the camera and says, "Don't let him fool you. This place is shit."

By Alfred's expression, you'd think he takes personal offense to that.

He probably does.

Arthur continues, saying, "This isn't an apartment. It's a generous walk-in closet." He walks around the couch muttering, "Why don't I just show you."

"Arty don't!"

Arthur unhooks the camera from the tripod and holds it in his hands, turning away from the couch to show the rest of their tiny apartment. "Look at this bollocks. It's just a room."

Their apartment is, in fact, just a room. On one side is Arthur's bed, sheets tucked in and a small bookshelf on the wall. On the other side is Alfred's bed, hidden somewhere under a pile of clothes and fast food wrappers. Posters cover Al's wall and a desk is crammed against the wall and Al's bed, on it sits a computer and piles of paper. On the left near their "front door" is another door that leads to a small bathroom.

"Honestly, I don't know why Alfred got this dump." Arthur says, turning the camera to face the dirty blond. "It doesn't even have a kitchen."

"But look at the view!" Alfred says, pulling back the curtains to show the skyline of New York, which, at the moment, is dark and cloudy with threats of an oncoming storm. Water that escaped through the cracks in the sky drizzle lazily to the streets below.

"Oh, you're right. It's beautiful." Arthur deadpans. Alfred's shoulders slump and he mutters about being a poor just-finished-college-adult and it was the best he could find.

"Tbh, the most depressing part about all this is that we don't have a TV." Al says after a moment of looking out the window.

"Tbh," Arthur replies, faking an American accent, "the most depressing part about all this is that you just said tbh."

After that video, Arthur swore it to be his duty to be in the room whenever Alfred taped anything. To 'make sure he wasn't trying to pull anyone's leg.'

Sometimes the Brit sat on his bed. Sometimes he sat on the couch, right next to Alfred; adding comments while he read or wrote. Regardless, whenever Arthur was around, Alfred avoided a specific topic and all his fangirls knew it.

But it was like holding your breath; eventually you'll have to suck in a gulp of air and the inevitable will rule.

All of Alfred's subscribers have seen The Video. It was posted years ago, and the hype of it is over. The fans hardly reference it anymore. But as millions of subscribers –millions of fangirls- sit down to watch the latest video Alfred posted, months after moving in, all of them thought of The Video.

Al's doing a Q n' A, and Arthur, being the stubborn child he is, is sitting next to him on their couch, reading a book.

"When was your last relationship?" Alfred reads off the question. If you think the fangirls didn't make a gif of Arthur's expression, you're dead wrong. Al cocks his head, only looking slightly conflicted as he answered casually, "I haven't dated anyone since my senior year of high school."

Arthur couldn't help but quip, turning the page in false disinterest, "Anyone I know?"

Alfred shifts on the couch, his eyes trailing off to the other side of the room, "No, I don't think so. They were a junior. So they would've been a sophomore when you were a senior."

Arthur lowers his book and stares at the other boy. A small smile graced his lips in amusement, "Alfred F. Jones." He says with just a hint of joy in his voice, "Are you lying to your viewers again?"

"No!" Al says quickly, his eyes wide.

Arthur's eyebrow quirks up, "What's her name?"

Alfred visibly flinches, "Uh, Alex."

"Alex and Alfred." Arthur testes it out. He hums and continues to prod, "Was it short for Alexis or Alexandria? Alexandria is far prettier of a name. Wait. Please don't tell me it was Alexis Winter?"

"No! No, God no!" Alfred shudders at that.

Arthur smiles slightly at that. "Well then, who was this Alex girl?"

Alfred shifts in his seat, his eyes looking everywhere but Arthur as he says slowly, "I… really don't think… I mean…"

Before he can create an actual sentence, his phone rings. He jumps up, thankful for the distraction, and scurries to his cell phone. As he pulls it close to his ear and says a cheery, "Hello?" he sees Arthur eye him curiously. Feeling the Brit's gaze bore into the side of his head, he turns his back and starts to pace the small room.

"Alfred F. Jones?" A female on the other side of the call asks.

Alfred immediately straightens his back, and says in a professional tone, "This is he. How can I help you?"

"I'm with the NeWorld Wildlife Foundation." The woman says, not missing a beat. "We understand you're fairly popular on social media and have a decent knowledge of telecommunications."

Decent. Alfred thinks. Not like it's my college degree or anything. "Yes, that's right."

"We would like to offer you a position in our newest documentary we will be filming." The woman continues.

Alfred's professionalism falters as he says, "Wait. What. Really?"

"Yes." She sounds bored; like she didn't want to be having this conversation. She's probably hoping for someone less-Alfred-y to be on the other end of the phone. Probs not a subscriber.

"What position? What's the documentary about?"

"You would be the host." Her bitterness is not lost on Alfred, but he didn't seem to care much as he glances at Arthur, who shoots him a confused look. "The documentary will be about the wildlife of the Outback. You would be filming onsite for thirty days."

"H-host? Awesome! Yeah, okay! I'll do it! I'd love to!" He's getting more and more excited by the minute, his voice rising to a high-pitched squeal. "When do I start?"

"You have two days to pack. We will send someone to come and pick you up for your flight. May we have your address?"

Alfred tells her and then the lady says, "Thank you for your cooperation. We'll be in touch." The American doesn't get the chance to say bye as he hears the line go dead. He turns excitedly to Arthur, who's staring at him expectantly.

"Did she say yes to the dress?" Arthur asks.

Alfred ignores him and cheers, "I've got me a gig! I'm going to be the host, the narrator of some documentary!"
Arthur smiles and nods, "Good for you. When is it?"

"In two days. They said they'd come pick me up to take me to the airport."

The Brit bolts up then, he sucks in a deep breath through his nose as he asks, "Airport? Where are you going?"

Alfred's smile is wide enough to break his face, "The Outback!"

Arthur's smile falls completely, "Australia?!"

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Tell me what ya think!