Shots Fired

Who do you think you are?

The maid of the Jones' household really was something special. She knew how to clean every single spot and make the house shine. She couldn't cook, but that wasn't a maid's job anyways. She was modest and quiet and nice to look at. She was the perfect maid. If it weren't for her one single flaw.

Arthur had learnt early to be what he wasn't. So when the slave hunters caught and sold him in the assumption he was a girl, he learnt how to wear dresses and keep his voice high-pitched. Yet he never gave up his dream of escaping. He had been caught with the age of four and changed households three times, before he landed in the Jones' household with the age of five. At first he was just doing dirty jobs, crawling in and cleaning places none of the adults could reach. But as he grew up and got 10, his rate went up. He now got a room with the other servants and was allowed to go out sometimes. He was given clothes and water to wash himself. At the age of 15, he was one of the houses best maids. Three years later, he was the number one maid and got assigned as a personal maid for the youngest son of the Jones' household.

Alfred Foster Jones was unbearable. According to Arthur. (The other maids loved him.) He was noisy, didn't keep his room clean and treated him like trash. "Hey, Rose! Rose Smith!" Arthur sighed and turned around with a smile as Alfred stormed in. "What is it, young master?"
"My parents told me you'd do everything I want. Is that true?"
"Why yes, young master, I am here to fulfill all of your wishes." Alfred stepped a bit closer and looked down at him. He was four years younger, but he already grew taller than him. His voice was in its changing phase and refused to stay at the same pitch. Sometimes it was high, some other times deep and smooth. And then there were the times it cracked and changed in the middle of a sentence. Arthur knew that all too well. When his own voice started changing, he had to struggle all the time to keep it the same as before. Luckily, his changing phase was already over. He couldn't let himself be found out. He would be kicked out and go back to being a mere slave. Now he had to disguise his voice all the time, so he tried to talk as less as possible. It was hard to keep his voice high all the time, but somehow, he managed. He looked up at Alfred, who seemed excited. "Then give me a kiss." The young boy demanded. Arthur resisted the urge to slap him. Yes, he found out he wasn't interested in women after he shared rooms with a few female servants, but that didn't mean he would just kiss any guy who asked for it. He kept his fake smile up. "Young master, I'm afraid I have to refuse. The ones you should kiss are mistresses from other households and not a mere servant like me." Alfred pouted, but eventually backed off. The following days, Alfred came again and again up to Arthur, always demanding a kiss, but Arthur always refused with a smile.

Four weeks later, he had enough. Just as Alfred came in the room he was cleaning at the moment, beaming and already his catchphrase: "Hey Rose, won't you give me my kiss today?" on his lips, Arthur snapped. "You fuck off with your stupid kiss! You won't be getting one no matter how much you ask, so bugger off!" He glared at him and flashed him his middle finger, in his rage he forgot to disguise his voice, so his true, deeper voice was revealed. Alfred froze. "...Rose?" Arthur realized the situation he was in and paled. "I mean..." He cleared his throat and put on his fake smile again. "I'm sorry, young master. I'm afraid I have to decline this time again." Alfred shook his head. "No. Dude. What was that?" He came closer menancingly and Arthur backed off a step with each step Alfred took forward. Soon he hit the wall with his back. Alfred slammed his hands on each side of his head, making it impossible for him to escape. Arthur shrunk under Alfred's glare drastically. "What was that just now?" Alfred repeated his question. Arthur smiled again. "What are you talking about young master?"
"Don't fuck with me!" Arthur flinched and looked to his right, where Alfred's fist had left a hole in the wall. "I know what I saw. I know what I heard. You're not the sweet girl you're pretending to be, are you?" Arthur shrunk together further. "Young master, please stop. You're scaring me." Alfred grabbed Arthur by his collar and pulled him close, they were only inches apart. "Stop it with that farce."
"I'm sorry, young master, I..." Suddenly it hit Arthur. He was doomed anyway, so there was no need to crawl and beg for forgiveness. "...I'm fucking fed up with you. Kiss you? Please. As if I'd want to kiss a brat like you." He pushed Alfred away. "You may be taller and stronger than me, but that doesn't mean a damn thing. Why do you want to kiss me anyway? It's not like I'm some busty blonde with more curves than brain." He scoffed. "So what if I'm a guy? It's not like I wanted to pretend I'm a girl. I fucking hate my bloody life and I hate you, who thinks he can have everything! If you want to have your bloody first kiss from a guy, then that be it!" He pressed his lips onto Alfred's, who was too shocked to do anything. "There! And if you excuse me, I think I have to pack my stuff to leave this household because I highly doubt you'll keep me here." He stomped past Alfred and slammed the door shut.