sortinghat_logs | You don't do things like that...

You don't do things like that...

WHO: Alfred F. Jones and Arthur Kirkland
TONE: ACCUSATORY? Eheh...
RATING: PG-13 because CURSING
WHEN: Backlogged to July 27th
WHERE: Camp! \o/
WHAT: So it's a day after the whole camp busted out and had their "funtime" in the town. And Alfred's nosy as to where his bunkmate was all night, as if he should be asking when he was out all night too.
STATUS: Ongoing

Alfred had no idea what to think about what had happened the night before. He felt like he should have had more control of his thoughts and emotions than this, and it was just plain frustrating how he didn't.

Here he was, staring at the ceiling and wondering where the hell Arthur had been while he himself was out with Amelia. Sure, Alfred would go out and do things during the night, but Arthur wasn't that sort. Alfred expected him to sit around and be a useless lump in the cabin, not HAVE FUN.

What frustrated him even more was that Arthur wasn't in his bed or even anywhere to be found in the cabin. It shouldn't have bothered him, and he shouldn't have gotten dressed and stormed out of bed and through the camp looking for the bushy-browed blonde.

But he did, and he was going to find out where Arthur had been because it was eating him up not knowing.

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No way. Arthur wasn't going to do this to him. The struggling he expected, and the sound of pain. That was what he was going for. But...he wanted Arthur to keep fighting him, to keep telling him off so that he had a reason to be fucking pissed!

...Not to sound scared and look away like that. It made his heart stop, and he could swear his insides had evaporated to nothing.

When Arthur told him to let go, his grip immediately loosened, only to tighten slightly afterwards. Just enough to stop him from breaking free.

"Stop it with that face. You've got to be fuckin' kidding me, Arthur. You have punched me in the face so many times. You flipped me out of your goddamn bed, and you Disarmed me just now.

"How...can you just whine like that?"

And how can I just feel like a total asshole for making you look that way?

Alfred didn't really know what heartbreak was. He was too young for that. But...this felt like it was breaking something.

Arthur just kept his face turned away, shoulders hunched up, looking every inch as if he thought Alfred might just knock his face in right there and then. He sniffed and hiccuped, then set his jaw and didn't make another sound.

He wasn't even trying to break free from the other teenager anymore. In his head he was trying to reason why he'd been so angry and he couldn't, and that was half the fear keeping him pinned in place.

The rest of it was that Alfred was employing the very same tactic that his brothers did, when they decided he was worth their attention.

The anger was still there, but now it was fading to frustration with the fact that....he was always the bad guy and this wasn't what he wanted to do.

His hands let go entirely, and he shifted off of Arthur. Then...thinking better of it, he took Arthur's right hand and balled it into a fist, putting it close to his own face.

"Would you just punch already? This is what you need to do. Not...not cry. Don't fuckin' cry, Arthur. Please. Hit me, you idiot. I don't want you to cry..."

He looked away then too, feeling sick to his stomach and just letting go of Arthur entirely. How was this making him any better than the bullies he didn't want touching Arthur? His Arthur, not theirs...

His arm tensed, as if he was going to punch him, but then his fingers relaxed and he just pushed at him instead, scrambling up into a sitting position and scooting a few feet away before he hugged his legs tightly and dropped his forehead to his knees, sniffling and hiccuping again as he sat there.

He just wanted Alfred to go away, but he couldn't speak for how tight his chest felt right now. Arthur didn't even know why he'd been so rude - sure, he was usually rude to Alfred, but not like that. Not enough to make him attack him.

"Go away."

Alfred was torn. He didn't want to leave, not when Arthur was upset. But then again, he had caused the upset to begin with, so...it wasn't his place.

Biting his lip hard, he looked away. "I...didn't mean to hurt you. It just happened, I'm sorry. I got real upset, and I don't know why, I just..."

He shook his head, standing. He slowly peeled his bomber jacket off, and tossed it at Arthur's feet.

"Use the lining. I don't have nothin' else...and I hope you didn't mean it. I mean, when you said that me existing is enough to piss you off."

Alfred didn't even straighten his clothes, he just turned away and started to leave slowly, because he still felt bad, and like he should do something more, to show he didn't mean to hurt him. This had all been a disaster...

For a long few moments, he didn't move, then he reached forwards and there was the soft sound of fabric against gravel as he drew the bomber jacket towards him. Despite the warm weather, he was shivering, and he pulled the jacket around himself, hunching his shoulders under it.

He wasn't quite ready to move from his spot next to the path yet, though.

A couple feet on, Alfred looked back, then turned forward and continued walking. 20 feet later, he turned again, saw Arthur wearing his jacket, and could swear his heart wasn't so much beating as pounding against his ribcage. But he swallowed hard, and continued walking...

...For about 5 more feet. This time, when he turned around, he couldn't help it. He had to walk back, and did so with far less hesitation than he'd had walking away.

"Arthur. I. Uhm...this isn't...I can't leave you here. Come to the cabin, won't you? The bugs'll be out eventually, and you look like you could use some bandaids. Or something."

Because Alfred carries bandaids everywhere. Wizard schmizard, these things were important.

"I'm really sorry. But I can't let you stay out here. It's not right."

Arthur would have been perfectly happy to have been left there alone. It wasn't terribly cold and wouldn't be dark for a little while yet. What he didn't expect was for Alfred to come back, and he looked up at him a little bit accusingly with red-rimmed eyes.

"Well if I do then it's your fault," he grumbled, but all the venom was gone out of his voice. What kind of wizard carried band-aids around?

"I don't know where my wand went."

"...I don't know where mine went either."

Remember bandaids. Forget wand. Alfred's the worst wizard ever.

"But anyway, I know it's my fault. I want to help. I overreacted." He wanted to say that Arthur had sent him over the edge with what he said, but the other teen probably wouldn't take credit for it, so he just let it go. "Just stay put, I'll find both of them."

He adjusted his glasses momentarily, then started peering around. Hopefully he'd find his first, and then he could just Summon Arthur's or something.

...But no. Of course not. He finds Arthur's wand first, and asking the man to make quick work of finding his current enemy's wand is...well, a bit much. Nonetheless, he does walk over to Arthur and hold his wand out.

"Here's yours. Lemme just go and look for mine, then."

He stayed where he was, knees drawn up to his chest and Alfred's jacket around his shoulders, until his wand was found and handed to him. Then, he got up, tugging the jacket a little closer around him. His forearms ached, and were covered in small, dirty scratches, but he ignored that as he lifted his wand and muttered a spell.

"Accio wand," he said, and in the next moment Alfred's wand came flying towards him. He caught it deftly, and held it out, looking away sullenly. If he was going to apologise, it'd be a while until he felt like doing it.

"...Oh. Thanks."

Alfred took back his wand sheepishly. He'd have stuck it into a pocket, but the thing was too long and would probably look stupid. Which was why he'd been keeping it in his jacket...and Arthur was wearing that right now.

"Do you want to stay out here a little while? I can be quiet and not bother you if you want."

But he's obviously not going to leave. He'd tried and failed already.

Edited 2012-07-31 18:10 (UTC)

"... I guess."

Arthur shrugged and looked off down the path. His anger from before had all but evaporated, leaving him wondering just where it had come from. It wasn't something that was comfortable to think about, and he rubbed his arms with a small wince.

"Not that I'd think for a minute that you're capable of being quiet."

"I can be quiet," Alfred insisted. He sat down, looking offside. The guilt was starting to hit him hard now. Arthur had looked so frightened, and that's not how he should feel around Alfred. not anymore...

His thoughts distracted him and kept him quiet. His guilty expression more than showed why he was quiet, if the other boy saw it.

".. 'kay, then." He sat down with him, still holding his jacket close around his shoulders. Arthur could feel the boy's guilt without even looking at him, and it was only a matter of time before he'd start feeling irritated by it.

"Pack it in, you're being annoying."

"I'm not doing anything," he snaps back with far less bite than usual, looking away from Arthur. No point in glaring at the teen, that'd only make Alfred feel worse about pinning him and screaming in his face. He won't argue extensively though. He was afraid they'd end up in the same situation.

"I can feel your self-pity from here."

Arthur glanced over at him, then shrugged the jacket off his shoulders and dropped it over Alfred's lap. He wasn't doing it out of spite, it just felt.. odd to be wearing it when Alfred was sitting right there.

"It's not self-pity. I feel bad for what I did."

If nothing else, Alfred's very honest. He seemed a bit distraught that his jacket's being returned so quickly. And here he thought he was finally doing something right.

"...Say Arthur. I got a question," he mumbled, but he didn't ask. It's like he wanted permission first, to do something questionable.

He rubbed his hands up his arms, feeling a chill for the lack of the thing, but he'd be fine in a moment (he told himself stubbornly). When Alfred spoke he made a quiet sound and glanced over at him, a small frown creasing a line between his eyebrows.

"... Well? Don't leave me in suspense, Jones."

"...Can I just...hug you? You really need one, and I wanna prove I'm not gonna hurt you. See, I...got frustrated, and...I think if I could hug you, that'd...help?"

That was the worst explanation ever and he knew it, but fuck it all. Aside from feeling bad...there was also the fact that Alfred wanted to be NICE he wanted to make Arthur warm--that was a good one!

"'Sides, you look cold. I could help with that."

If anything, he had the puppyeyed expression on his face that usually made his parents melt. The one he never knew he was wearing at any given time.

~~Yes the Look.~~

"... Hug me?"

Augh, bloody hell, what was that look on his face? Arthur cringed and looked away, only to give a sidelong glance back at him. He wrinkled his nose briefly in uncertainty, then frowned and let out a short, irritated sound.

What did Alfred want to hug him for anyway? It wasn't as if they even liked each other.

"... Fine."

That look on his face was one that became the bane of anyone's existence, if Alfred got close to them. Arthur probably hadn't seen it yet, since Alfred was usually too busy picking on him to pout.

He wasn't picking on Arthur now though. In fact he seemed a bit shy as he shuffled closer and slowly wrapped his arms around the other boy. He was so gentle, far gentler than he'd ever been.

"I really am sorry."

He didn't get hugs often, except from his mother and occasionally from David when his eldest brother was feeling charitable or felt sorry for him, and he didn't quite know how to react to it. That much was obvious as his shoulders tensed and he ducked his head slightly, shifting uncomfortably before he finally relaxed into the hug.

"Yeah, well.." he mumbled, looking down at his knees. This felt odd, but not in the kind of way that made him want to complain about it.

"Me too. You're not that much of a prick."

"Heh...don't go spreading it around. People might think you dig me."

He let out a soft chuckle, tightening his grip as Arthur relaxed, but only enough to pass as cuddling. He didn't want to spook the teen, but he also didn't want to let go. When was the next time he'd have a chance to hug Arthur Kirkland?

Then again, why did he even want to hug this guy? The only time they interacted...was when they were trying to jinx each other into submission. Besides, Alfred was a guy, Arthur was a guy, and...this felt kind of gay.

"In your dreams," Arthur sniped, but there was no real annoyance in it. His mind was too taken up with being comfortable in this hug, which was weird in itself.

It was only a matter of time, though, before it just became too odd-feeling and he had to squirm out of it, shrugging out from under Alfred's shoulder and scooting away from him slightly.

"Yeah..."

Alfred got a little too comfortable before Arthur started squirming away. In fact, his head had started to lean into the English teen's shoulder a little. He tried not to pout as they separated, but a bit still showed through.

"So...uh. How about this camp, huh? Haha.."

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