Epilogue

"So yeah, Artie and I are officially a thing now."

"Artie?"

"It's my nickname for him. He says he hates it but I'm sure it'll grow on him in no time."

Alfred was once again in his second favourite place of all time (the first being Arthur's and now his, he had to keep reminding himself, house), Coffee on the Corner, and it wasn't even a Friday. As soon as Alfred had moved all of his stuff into Arthur's house, he'd felt the need to talk to Elizaveta so that he could tell her the news she'd wanted to hear for so long. It was Monday; Alfred had waited two whole days. Moving house had turned out to be both longer and busier than he had remembered.

She leant over the counter and gave him a hug. In Alfred's opinion, it was less like hugging and more like crushing. Damn, she gave tight hugs. She was practically squeezing the life out of him. "It's about damn time! You've been in love with him for, like, how long exactly?"

"Five months, three weeks and one day," Gilbert answered, emerging from the kitchen, a tea towel wrapped around his neck, "you kind of bitch about it a lot when I'm off-duty."

"Gilbert!" Elizaveta hissed, swiping the smirking man round the back of the head, "no swearing whilst working."

"Okay, okay." Gilbert rubbed at his head and winked at Alfred. "Girls," he mouthed, causing Alfred to smile in sympathy.

"I saw that," Elizaveta said as she poured herself a coffee. The shop was empty so Alfred was allowed to just sit at the counter and chat to Elizaveta whilst she powered herself with an endless supply of caffeine. Alfred supposed that talking to him must be exhausting.

"Of course you did," Gilbert replied as he retreated into the kitchen.

She shook her head as she placed her coffee on the counter. Taking a seat on the wooden stool near the till, she leaned forward, her eyes wide and intrigued. "So," she smirked a little and took a sip of her coffee, "where's James Bond?"

"Firstly, don't call him that. It's weird." Alfred personally thought Arthur was more like the Doctor than the British spy. "He's working on his book. We moved all of my stuff into his place on Saturday and he hasn't gotten much work done since I've been around."

Elizaveta waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "I'll bet he hasn't."

"Liz!" Alfred's cheeks turned warm and pink which made little sense seeing as both Elizaveta and Gilbert knew all about their friends-with-benefits arrangement. "How dare you suggest such a thing?"

"Hmnm." She sipped more of her coffee and, once she'd placed her cup down on the counter, began tapping her fingers on the table. Alfred supposed that she was becoming restless and that hardly surprised him, she'd had a lot of coffee. "I can't really blame you though," she sighed wistfully, "if he wasn't gay and I wasn't with Gilbert then I'd totally screw him."

"Thanks for that Liz," Alfred muttered, then it was his turn to smirk as he said, "I assume Gil isn't a satisfying partner, then, huh?"

"I'm a fucking fantastic partner, thank you very much!" A voice yelled from the kitchen, causing Alfred to jump in surprise. Gilbert either had really good hearing or had been purposefully eavesdropping. "An awesome partner in fact, right Liz?"

Elizaveta's cheeks had gone a shade of pink and she chewed her lip before sighing, "I have to admit it, he is." Her eyes then widened and she leaned forward to whisper, "actually, the other day it was so good. He-"

"Ah and that's my cue to leave," Alfred said hastily as he downed the rest of his coffee and gathered up his things, repressing a shudder. If he hadn't interrupted Elizaveta, he would have been mentally scarred for life.

Elizaveta pouted before smirking once more. "Oh and why is that I wonder? Is Arthur taking a work break?"

"You literally have sex on the brain, Liz. It's worrying."

"It's great!" Gilbert shouted from the kitchen and Alfred was now certain the Gilbert had superhuman hearing; he was going to have to write to Marvel.

Alfred thanked his friend for the coffee (she had given it to him for free in exchange for the information as to why he was so happy), said goodbye and headed for the door.

He was just about to leave when something caught his eye. It was the quotes wall. It was telling him that he had to write something and he knew that he wouldn't be able to leave without doing so. But what would he write? Something about Arthur, surely.

His massive eyebrows are massive?

His voice is like dancing?

He looks super sexy without clothes on?

Well it's a good job that Arthur's the writer, Alfred thought as he moved aside to let a customer through the door. He took a step forward so that he was out of the way (the place had suddenly gotten a whole lot busier as it was the evening rush hour) and so that he could view the wall more closely.

It was covered in lovely inspirational quotes: "The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart"- Helen Keller; "Try to be a rainbow in someone's cloud."- Mary Angelou and Alfred's personal favourite, "Sometimes,' said Pooh, 'the smallest things take up the most room in your heart"- A.A Milne. Alfred loved these quotes yes, but that wasn't what he wanted to write, what he needed to write.

It had to be personal.

Arthur was over twenty minutes late, which was not like him. Alfred was both worried and sad as he believed Arthur wouldn't turn up, which was like him, but not to this extent. Arthur usually turned up within two minutes of Alfred's waiting.

Alfred would have to order Arthur another drink as he was sure that it would get cold and cold tea, as Arthur had told him once before, was a 'crime against humanity'.

The bell tinkled and Alfred's head shot up, hoping against hope that it would be Arthur.

It was. But Arthur did not look like Arthur. He was decked head to toe in black, not one buttoned shirt or knitted sweater in sight. He wore a tight T-shirt and even tighter skinny jeans. He was wearing a leather jacket and Alfred was pretty sure that he was wearing eyeliner.

Arthur stomped over in his Doc Martens and slumped in the chair, glaring at Alfred intensely. His arms were folded and he huffed before saying, "don't you dare comment on my outfit. Don't ask me where I got it from, why I had it in the first place or why I'm wearing it today. Just don't."

Alfred opened his mouth and, after receiving another death-glare from Arthur, closed it again. If looks could kill, Alfred would have been dead.

Arthur sighed before taking a sip of his tea and grimacing. "It's cold." He placed it back down and studied Alfred for a few moments. Alfred was still too stunned to speak. He had so many questions he wanted to ask but he was sure Arthur would kill him if he uttered a single word. "You know what, fuck it, just ask me some bloody questions." Well, at least he didn't have to wait for very long.

"Phew, okay, uhm…" Where would he start? "Who made you dress like that? I mean, it's not exactly your usual style."

"My usual style being those ugly jumpers you hate so much, I suppose?" Alfred nodded. "I thought so. I've told you about Francis, haven't I?" Alfred nodded again. "Well unfortunately I made the stupid mistake of telling him I was on a date tonight and he wanted me to make my best efforts. He searched my wardrobe and said that this outfit, in particular, was 'sexy' and he would not leave my house unless I dress like this to meet you which is why I'm twenty minutes late. Apologies for that, by the way."

"Aw, that's okay," Alfred replied in a hopefully nonchalant voice as he pretended that he hadn't spent twenty minutes in a major stress. "Francis was right though. You do look sexy. The punk thing works for you."

Arthur's face turned crimson as he spluttered, embarrassed at being complimented. Alfred rescued him by asking whether he wanted another drink to which Arthur replied in the positive and the American walked to the counter.

"Can I have a tea and a black coffee please, Liz?" Alfred reached into his wallet and placed ten dollars on the counter, "you can keep the change."

Elizaveta smiled and prepared their drinks. "Someone's looking very fine," she said, nodding in Arthur's direction.

"I know right?" Alfred groaned, "God, talk about radiating sexy. It's unfair."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm jealous," Liz replied, placing the two drinks on the counter.

"It does," Alfred admitted as he picked up the beverages, "I'm the luckiest guy alive. Cheers for the drinks, Liz." Alfred carried them over to their table and set them down (without actually spilling any, an achievement for Alfred) he then sat in his seat opposite Arthur.

"Thank you," Arthur took a sip of his drink before setting it down on the table. "Ah, lovely. Elizaveta does make the greatest tea."

"She thinks you look good in that outfit too, by the way."

Arthur's cheeks pinked a little yet he smiled. Alfred had the feeling Arthur was feeling very self-conscious in that outfit which was ridiculous, he looked amazing, and Alfred would be sure to remind Arthur of that later.

"Alfred," Alfred looked up from his coffee (which he had been staring into as he thought about Arthur and his confidence) and Arthur took this as his cue to continue. "Are you a believer in astrology?"

The question kind of stunned Alfred though it really shouldn't have. Arthur was a fan of unexpected questions on random topics. "Isn't that the one with the star signs?" Arthur nodded slowly, his eyes trained on Alfred's expression. "Nah, not really. I mean, I guess the concept's nice but I don't think there's any truth to it. Do you?"

Arthur shuffled in his seat and looked away from Alfred before answering. "As a matter of fact, I do. My mother is a big follower of astrology and I kind of picked it up from her." His embarrassment seemed to have subsided as he was now able to make eye contact with Alfred once more. "I remembered something interesting today though which I think will interest you too," he paused as he drank some of his tea, "Alfred, do you know your star sign?"

"I was born on July 4th so that would make me a Cancer, right?"

"I had thought as much and yes, that's right. I was born on the 23rd of April and that makes me a Taurus. Do you want to know what's interesting about that?"

Alfred had no idea where this was going but nodded anyway, just to keep Arthur happy.

"Cancer and Taurus are highly compatible signs," Arthur appeared very excited about this new discovery. His eyes were wide and passionate, he was using hand gestures and he was smiling, "do you know what that means?"

"Uh…" Alfred tried to think but astrology just went way over his head, it was confusing and totally made-up anyway, none of it was real. "Nope, no idea. Sorry."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "It means that we're compatible Alfred. We're well-suited for each other, made to be. See, I think that what's happening between us right now, our arrangement, was fated. It was supposed to happen. It was all too big of a coincidence, surely."

Alfred loved astrology. Astrology was his favourite thing in the entire world and everyone knew that it was a reliable and honest practice. What better place to find truth than in the stars? Alfred would read his horoscope every week. Astrology said that he and Arthur were meant to be. They were compatible.

"I like your discovery," Alfred said (a gross understatement).

"Yes. So do I."

In the end, it was obvious what Alfred had to write. Three simple words which had changed Alfred's way of thinking and had made him realise how much Arthur had meant to him. Three words which showed that they were made for one another.

Alfred walked back to the counter and, after queuing for five minutes, he placed three dollars on the counter and said to Elizaveta, "I know what I'm going to write on the wall."

She simply smiled and said, "It took me to fall in love before I knew what to write too." Before Alfred could ask what she meant by that or what she wrote on the wall, she was serving another customer.

Alfred grabbed the marker pen from the counter and, making sure he didn't bump into anyone holding hot drinks, he walked to the wall. It felt smooth underneath the pen, it was the same satisfying feeling a person gets when they write in a new notebook for the first time. Once he was done, he took a step back and admired his work.

"We are compatible"- Arthur Kirkland.

He placed the pen back on the counter, took a final glance at the wall and left. He was heading for home and, when he got there, he was going to tell Arthur that he loved him (which Arthur already knew, of course), he was going to cook them some food and then they would fall asleep in each other's arms watching Spiderman and it would be amazing.

Fridays were no longer the best day of the week because now, with Arthur, every day was perfect.

A/N: So, that's another fic finished! Sorry the wait for the epilogue was so long. I've had a lot of work to do D:

Thanks for reading, I hope you all liked the ending :') (I'm a sucker for a happy ending :3)

~BooksAreLikeChocolateButBetter