The Faulkner Imbalance

It was midnight on a Tuesday at the chemistry lab, and Arthur was only halfway through this week's homework when his phone buzzed on the tabletop. The other two people in the lab - his partner Gil and their friend Victoria - looked up and blinked as they were shaken from their formulaic trance.

"Wha'? Who?" Gil muttered, rubbing his eyes with the back of his gloved hand as Arthur unlocked his phone screen to check the text message.

"Calm down, it's just Al." He tapped out a reply quickly, then shoved his phone in his pocket and went to wash any chemical residue from his hands and forearms. Gil and Victoria exchanged a weary, knowing glance.

"Bringing you food again, huh?" Victoria asked. Arthur nodded from the sink, too tired to be snappy. "Dude, you've got him trained better than I've got Jake, and Al's not even dating you."

"So you've said before." Arthur dried his hands and took off his goggles and lab coat, hanging them off the row of pegs by the door as he yawned hugely. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have refueling to do." He slid out of the lab, leaving the two of them to gossip and maybe do their share of the work as he went down to the door of the building, where his roommate of two years and counting was waiting with Chinese.

He let Al in with a weary grin, and they claimed their usual broad windowsill as Al chatted on about his close encounter with the delivery guy. Arthur leaned back against the window and ate his chicken fried rice with the gusto of someone who hadn't eaten in ten hours, content to listen and relax and follow the lamplight from outside as it danced over Al's features.

"So, how's the lab stuff going?" Al asked eventually, mouth full of broccoli. Arthur shrugged.

"It's going. We've isolated the sample and it's soaking, but the numbers we're getting back from the acid solution don't match up with what we should be getting..." Al nodded along, eating and watching his eyes light up as he rambled about his assignment. After a minute of smiling and nodding, Arthur trailed off with a smile. "How much of that did you actually get?"

"'Bou' haf," he admitted through his food. He swallowed. "But, still, sounds fun." He took a sip from his bottled Coke before handing it over to Arthur, who washed the rice-dryness from his mouth with it. "So when do you think you'll be home?"

"At least a couple of hours." He twisted the cap back on with his palm and set the Coke between them. "You don't have to wait up on me."

Al laughed. "You know me, I'll be up until five anyway." Arthur smiled, digging through his rice with his fork for a piece of chicken.

"Thanks for all this, by the way." Al scoffed and waved him off.

"Nah, don't worry about it. It gets me out of the house for a while, so I don't mind." Arthur barked out a laugh around the clump of chicken, spraying a little, and Al grinned in response. They fell silent for a moment, eating like growing boys at midnight. Al glanced up at Arthur by chance, then double took.

"Hey, you got a lil' something..." He gestured to the corner of his mouth. Arthur rubbed at his mouth - the wrong side. Al rolled his eyes and reached out to brush it away with his thumb, sticking it in his mouth reflexively.

Then they froze, eyes wide, Arthur's mouth fallen open and Al biting his thumb hard.

Arthur stood up too quickly, closing the lid on his food and fumbling over his fork. "I-I should be going back to the lab now." He avoided Al's eyes as he handed his half-full box over.

"Yeah, I should - go, too." He swallowed, shoved the food back into the plastic bag. "I'll put this in the fridge."

"Good. Great." Arthur cleared his throat, looked up, looked away. "I'll see you, then."

"Yeah." They shuffled apart, carefully avoiding any kind of contact until Al was out the door and at his locked bike and Arthur was around the hall corner, out of sight from the outside world when he leaned against the wall and rubbed at his temples. Outside, Al leaned on the frame of his bike and stared into space, wide-eyed and a funny taste in his mouth.

What was that?

The next two weeks passed strangely for them. Every normal interaction they were used to became increasingly charged with something secret and unknown, and it scared them away from each other and any possible sightings that were unnecessary to living in the same room. Arthur almost resided in the lab, drawing out his work as long as possible, but even when he ran out of things to do he lingered, bothering his classmates until they kicked him out to get him away. Al hid around campus, taking his Kindle on the run and migrating from tree to bench to library, the soft fall colors and cool wind keeping him company far past the hours when it was reasonable to stay outside as he read articles and essays to try and distract him from this weird development in what had been the steadiest, most dependable relationship of his life outside of his immediate family.

It didn't work, naturally, and he spent more of his tree time staring at the changing leaves and wondering what switch had flipped inside him, inside Arthur. He didn't have an answer, so he grew sullen and irritable, figuratively biting at anyone who tried to ask what was wrong, and none more than the other four guys that shared the off campus house with him and Arthur - even the two house cats, Al and Arthur's personal pets. Even with as little time as they were spending at home, they could smell something odd in the air. Eventually they were going to have to do something about it, because if there was one thing they knew about Al and Arthur, it was that they were too stubborn to change themselves.

So they had a house party.

While their house parties were never the red Solo cup, drunk girls in bikini tops that Hollywood adored, there was alcohol circulated throughout the building, and too loud laughter and music pounded out normal conversation into screaming into ears in corners.

Somehow, through subconscious efforts and the subtle directions of their friends and co-inhabitants, they ended up in one of those corners together - specifically, the one with the back of a couch on one side and a front window on the other, sitting on the floor near the game of Tipsy Twister as they argued about books over half a bottle of rum. They'd started out sitting a careful distance from each other, Arthur supported by the couch and Al by the wall, but as the noise level and their blood alcohol content grew, they slid closer and closer until their knees were touching, getting into each other's space as their arguments fell apart into personal insults.

"I don't get you, Faulkner was a genius!" Al yelled, his wild gestures nearly slapping Arthur in his perpetually-furrowed face. Arthur scowled and leaned back against the sofa back, crossing his arms resolutely.

"He's a hick who smoked too much and played at bein' 'deep' to entertain you backcountry boys and make you feel smart!" Al gasped in scandal, rearing back before leaning forward, uncrossing his legs so he could sprawl almost in Arthur's lap, hands holding him up on either side of Arthur's folded legs. Through his rum haze, Arthur could feel that something was weird about this, but he painted it off as the cramped body heat of the party.

"You take that back."

Arthur grinned, pushing at his chest with the tips of his fingers, but Al didn't move away and the fingers didn't leave. "Make me." Al puffed up, and Arthur's grin grew. "Just like I thought." His hand moved down slightly, fingertips to full fingers. The smiled faded, and suddenly there were in their own bubble in the chaotic crowd. Their breathing seemed too heavy, too hot. They couldn't look away.

Al moved first, sliding his hands forward on the stained carpet to get closer, stomach brushing Arthur's crossed calves and hair hanging over his forehead. Arthur's fingers clenched in his shirt, his other one floating up to take its grip lower, below his breastbone. He tugged, and they missed at first, bumping cheeks and noses, but Al moved sideways and eased his mouth over Arthur's.

Arthur sighed, melted back into the sofa back while pulling Al closer, tilting his head sideways to open more to him while gliding his hands away from their death grip on his shirt to hold him closer, ever closer, blunt nails digging in as he relaxed his legs apart. Al brought one hand up to weave his fingers in his hair, angling him right to get his tongue in the farthest, tracing the sensitive ridges on his palate. Arthur hummed, finally getting his legs out of Al's way so he could lay fully between them. They were sliding slowly horizontal, pressure and gravity aiding them as their open-mouthed kiss grew sloppy and disorganized.

"Yeah! Get it, Al!"

They broke apart like a lightning strike, Arthur pushing him away while Al scrambled back, knocking over the mostly-empty rum bottle on his way. Those close by who cared laughed riotously, none more than Gil, who had catcalled in the first place. Now he was grinning excitedly at them from the front of the sofa, leaning over it in glee. Al yelled at him to fuck off, face red and mouth wet. Arthur wiped at his mouth with his shirt sleeve and stood up, shoving his way through the scattered partygoers, both those watching and beyond the sphere of interest. Al got to his feet and started after him, then sighed and fell back against the sofa, sitting on top of the back and running his hand through his hair, tousling it further. The texture shocked him, and his heart shuddered as it hit him why.

Oh.

Gil took a knee-step sideways on the sofa cushions as those few curious went back to their loud talking with a new source of gossip. He sighed overdramatically and patted his shoulder. Al shrugged him off, but Gil just leaned bodily against him instead.

"You were too good for him, anyway." This time Al shoved him away violently, making him lose his balance and fall back on the sofa with a lot of cursing involved.

"Go fuck yourself, man." Gil scowled up at him, but his eyes widened at the uncharacteristically dark look on Al's face.

"Dude, are you-"

But Al stormed off in the opposite direction that Arthur had taken before he could finish, leaving him to far too serious thoughts when he wasn't sober, several fed up friends to answer to, and an empty rum bottle leaking another story stain onto the abused carpeting.

Arthur locked himself in their room that night with both cats as his only company and didn't come out until midafternoon.

Al ended up sleeping on the couch in the den - not the sofa, the evil, fight-causing sofa, but the couch, they were different - and stayed there for his day of moping, sulking wordlessly while Ludwig kept watch over him and read one of his engineering textbooks.

Around the time that the sun was slanting in through the front windows over the lingering mess of the party last night scattered over the floor, Arthur came down the creaky stairs as quietly as he could manage, heralded by meowing, hungry cats, poking his head around the door tentatively. Al curled back into the couch cushions as far as he could go, shoving his fingers into his mouth and looking at Ludwig with wide, pleading eyes. Ludwig had looked up at the sudden appearance at the stairs, but Arthur did his best impression of a selectively blind, startled rabbit and darted towards the fridge on the other side of the den/kitchen front of their house. As Arthur pulled out sandwich material and Al held his breath in an unhealthy manner, Ludwig rolled his eyes and slid open his phone, starting a group text message with the other half of the house.

To: Kiku, Ivan, Francis
The robin has left the nest.

From: Ivan
I'll get the legs you get the arms

From: Kiku
Down in a moment

From: Francis
Don't let him fly away

As the indicative noises sounded overhead, Ludwig stood while Arthur's back was turned as he slapped a sandwich together at the far counter, using Al's self-inflicted vow of silence and face-down sprawl to his advantage as he sat on his back, opening his book again and ignoring the small noises of protest from below. When Al started squirming, he laid his 500-page hardback textbook on his head.

Francis was the first to tumble down the stairs, startling Arthur with a mouthful of ham and cheese. "Ah, the lovely rose has awakened!" he cried out with his arms flung wide, moving towards him. Arthur tried to curse at him and duck out of his way, but his words were garbled and his movements were too slow. Francis caught him in a headlock, swiping his sandwich as well and taking a bite as Arthur struggled and sputtered. He sighed and swallowed with an effort.

"I will never understand how you can fail at such a basic food," he said with a shake of his head. Arthur beat his way out of his hold and stole his sandwich back just as Ivan and Kiku arrived, Kiku with an unusually determined look on his face Ivan still in his pajamas and a frown.

It wasn't hard to tell that all of them were frustrated with how Al and Arthur had been behaving lately.

"All right, we have subject number one, where's number two?" Ivan asked, cracking his knuckles. Ludwig stood and took Al by the collar, yanking him to his feet and ignoring his yell of "Hey, stop that!", wincing as his book tumbled to the ground. That wasn't going to be kind to the pages, but there were more important things at hand, such as all of their sanities.

Arthur froze in the middle of the kitchen floor as Ivan went to help Ludwig drag Al across the room. Behind his back, Francis looked to the heavens for guidance.

While it had taken two guys his size or larger to get him into the kitchen, it only took one disappointed look from Kiku before Al ceased and desisted his fighting, embarrassed as he stood meekly in front of him. Kiku beckoned Arthur closer, and Francis shoved him forward until they were facing each other, Kiku in the middle and a loose ring of the other house mates keeping them from running away. Al stared down at his feet while Arthur glared holes into his half-eaten sandwich.

"Now, boys," Kiku began, looking between both of them. "We don't really know what's been happening between you two lately, but it has become unbearable to live in this house with you. So, you're going to sit right here-" the other three sat them down at the kitchen table a few steps away- "and you're not getting up until you've figured yourselves out." Al and Arthur sulked and scowled; Ivan slammed his hands on the table, making them jump. He smiled.

"I'll make it easy for you to understand. Make nice, or move out." He pointed at the other half of the room. "We'll be over there, making sure you follow through." They nodded, and the four of them migrated over to the den, talking in low voices and sending pointed glares.

Al and Arthur fiddled, neither knowing where to begin. Arthur ate his sandwich in small bites, not really hungry anymore but feeling obligated to eat.

After a fake throat clear from the other room, they finally looked up at each other and drew breath simultaneously.

"I'm sorry-"

"Look, I-"

They stopped, giggling nervously. Arthur popped the last bit of his sandwich in his mouth and sighed.

Al groaned and put his head on the table. "I dunno, man. I swear to God that I haven't, like, been hiding gay shit for you for years-"

Arthur snorted. "Likewise." Al turned his head to be able to see him and wrinkled his nose at him with a teasing grin.

"Hey, you sayin' I ain't hot?" Arthur blinked.

"Well, no, but-" Al started laughing, and Arthur kicked him under the table. "Oh shove it."

"Love you too, bro." Their faces fell suddenly, and they stared in horror at each other.

"Shit."

Al's face went back to the table, and he pulled on his hair and groaned.

"How did we let this happen?" he moaned. Arthur sighed, resting his chin on his hand and tracing the fake grain of the table with the other.

"I guess that's the part that got us." He looked up at Al, who turned his head just enough for him to see one blue eye. He smiled despite himself. "We didn't let it happen. It just did."

Al smiled softly, then put him arm under his head to more comfortably watch Arthur from the table's perspective. "Yeah, I guess so." Arthur's face flushed, which set Al's face aflame in turn, and they looked away again.

"So now what do we do?" Al asked the table quietly. Arthur shrugged.

"We could ignore it until it goes away?" Al's turn to snort.

"Because that'll end so well."

"Well what do you think we should do, Mr. Know-It-All?"

"We could try it out?"

Even though it was the logical next step, it still caught Arthur off guard, surprising his snap away. "What?"

"I mean, if it's a phase, it's a phase, but..." Al shrugged enough to move his whole body and propped his chin on his forearm to look straight forward at the microwave. "It could be fun."

Arthur flashed to the press of Al over him last night and coughed. "Yes, I suppose it could." Al laughed and pressed his leg sideways into Arthur's, who stood abruptly, drawing the attention of the others away from their conversations.

"So, did you reach an agreement?" Ludwig asked over the top of his manhandled book. Al grinned and stood.

"Sure did!"

Francis turned to look over the back of the couch and raised an eyebrow, still petting one of the cats sprawled along the top of the couch. "And?"

Al turned and smiled at Arthur, a question and an invitation in his bitten lip and puppy eyes. "We're gonna go upstairs and talk about it some more?"

Arthur bit the inside at his cheek against a telling smile of his own, and just gave his blandest nod instead. Francis raised both eyebrows and laughed. "Should we leave you to the house, then?"

Al stuck out his tongue, but Arthur brushed by him, taking his wrist on the way. "Maybe you should," he said in his boldest tone even as his face gave his nerves away. He didn't give them time to respond, dragging Al and his silly grin upstairs, who saluted before being whipped around the corner and up the stairs.

When the door slammed shut in the distance, a collective sigh echoed downstairs. "I'm not sure if we just made our lives better or so, so much worse," Ludwig said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Francis shrugged.

"Probably both." He stood and patted his pockets for his keys and wallet, giving one last scratch to the back of the cat's ears. "I think I'm going out for lunch. Anyone want to come?"

Ivan stood instantly, making a face at the silent ceiling. "I should probably change into actual clothes first, but I'd go through hell before going up there right now." Kiku just glanced up with his more familiar, impassive expression before standing as well.

"That might be the safest option."

Ludwig gave one last look at his textbook, then decided his reading could wait until later and followed his housemates out the door, leaving the two new lovebirds to their own devices and the two cats to theirs.

{A/N: So I haven't randomly written something in a while! I'd almost forgotten I could. This was just something that I wanted to do where Al and Arthur were the opposite uni majors than they were usually cast, and somehow it turned into this. I might play more in this AU after BKIH part 2 is done, but for now I'm marking it complete.

Also, I'm very sad that I didn't get to work the cats' names into this. Americat is Big Dan and Englandcat is Little Ann. :) }