Arthur awoke, as usual, to noise on the first floor. He understood that Alfred worked at night, but did he really have to wake him every morning with his clomping around? However, he couldn't be mad when Alfred walked into their bedroom, covered in dust but smiling as though he had just cured cancer.

"How was work, love?"

"Awesome. We finally finished busting up the concrete on that off ramp."

"That's good." He sat up, "Did you have plans for the rest of the night?"

"Just the usual," he walked to the bed and lifted Arthur into his arms, "Shower sex, food, maybe a short movie, and then more sex before you lock yourself in the study all day."

Arthur scowled, "You know, sometimes I miss that boy that would always blush and fidget if he wanted to suggest we as much as kissed."

"Dude, if I still did that after a thousand, I'd have serious problems."

"You speak as though you don't have 'serious problems.'"

"Well, I thought staying with you was a given, cantankerous old man."

"It's only because I'm mad enough to allow you, spoiled child."

"I know. You have to be mad to let a total stud lay into you all the time."

"Remind me, who was the one bent over the kitchen table this last evening?"

"Rare reward because you actually sold one of your cliché books."

"Shut up, ingrate."

"Only if you put a sock in it, douche bag."

Arthur still kissed him as he set him down on his feet in the tub. He still stroked his wings once Alfred changed back into his true form. He still wrapped his legs around the other man's waist and made love against the cold tile wall.

His life was certainly different than he had ever dreamed, living in a human city across the ocean from his birthplace. However, even now, he couldn't bring himself to regret a second he spent after that boy fell in the water all those lifetimes ago.