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Language:
English
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Published:
2012-02-09
Words:
436
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
2
Kudos:
25
Bookmarks:
1
Hits:
273

Mutually Beneficial

Summary:

alfred and arthur can get through life fine, but sometimes a little whiskey and company can ease the way.

Notes:

here is what essentially amounts to my first real fic, in 500 words or less.

Work Text:

Alfred likes to pretend he doesn't know why he puts up with it, but in truth he's always been terrible at lying, especially to himself. They don't interact too often overall, but once in a while, after their meetings, Arthur will get this look about him, and Alfred invites him out for drinks.

They inevitably wind up sitting at a bar, nursing whiskeys while Arthur grumbles abuse at Alfred, worsening throughout the night and always, always going back to the revolution, saying, 'how could you leave me, how could you-,' strong fingers caught in Alfred's shirtsleeve. And Alfred will smile soft and say, 'I know, I know,' in a low, soothing voice, but never 'I'm sorry', because he's not, not really. Heroes don't lie, and he will never apologize for who they have become.

When Arthur drinks too much to function, which is always, Alfred will pay their bill and help him up, one arm slung over his shoulder. He sometimes has to carry Arthur home, and the other man is impossibly light against his back, head lolling and cheek pressed warmly against his neck. He sometimes murmurs quietly against Alfred's skin, breath warm and fuzzy with drink, and Alfred pretends not to hear him. He pretends even harder on the nights Arthur cries, soft snuffles and salt water dampening his collar.

During the days they will heckle one another, making small tears into each other with cutting, offhand comments. But neither of them bring up the rare nights they spend together. Contrary to popular belief, Alfred is not stupid. He knows, as certain as he knows he can save the polar bears by making giant, inflatable icebergs, that if he ever hurts Arthur with that, the nights will end, and Arthur will never show him that level of weakness again. The thought alone is unbearable.

So Alfred watches, and says nothing out of the ordinary, until those days when Arthur snaps at someone and gets that utterly unfair, wounded look to him when they snap back. The days when instead of continuing the argument he stutters and stops, green eyes wide like he thinks no one will ever love him, like anyone who ever did has come to their senses and left him. Then Alfred switches to Hero Mode and casually drops hints about a new bar nearby until Arthur follows him out the doors. They will drink, and bicker, and fall drunk and dizzy against each other and hold each other up. Because Arthur needs so badly for someone to care about him, and Alfred needs just as much for someone to need him.