Arrested in Love: UsUk Prisoner AU

24: Wanna Get Married?

As they awoke once more they found it to be the early afternoon. Alfred grinned, noticing his lover in his arms.
Alfred slowly stretched out his arms, looking around the house. It was weird, and unfamiliar to randomly wake up in a home, and not a cold cell. On a cold bed. In a cold prison. Dark, lonely.
This was nice, seeing sunlight leak through the blinds. Behind the American's blue eyes, they gleam. The beauty, he just soaked in.

Alfred sighed, looking around for his clothes. There were clothes discarded everywhere. From his shirt to Arthur's watch. Everything laid, sprawled amongst the floor.

Alfred could feel a small rustle against his chest as he slowly reached for his boxers, seeing Arthur's groggy eyes blinking up at him. "Good morning beautiful," Alfred teased, kissing his lover's forehead.

Arthur couldn't help but smile, looking down. "Good morning," He grumbled lowly, his hair disheveled and body bruised.
"Did you sleep well?" The American inquired. Arthur only nodded. His voice ached.
"Is this a tea kind of morning?" Arthur nods again.

Slowly, Alfred slithered out of Arthur's grasp, leaving the small Brit to watch Saturday cartoons out on the couch, wrapped up in the blanket that rested on the chair by them. Alfred had grabbed it while Arthur slept because he wanted to cover up.

Alfred searched through the Brit's cabinets and fridge, pulling out what was necessary to make a 'bomb-ass' breakfast for his fiancé. Well, to him Arthur was his fiancé. It was all just confusing. Alfred needed that figured out.

Anyway, as Arthur watched the television, Alfred fired up the stove, starting on eggs and bacon. Soon, he brought tea out for Arthur, whom was thankful and conveyed that with a kiss to the cheek.

"I smell- I smell bacon." Arthur acknowledged, peering over the breakfast bar to see Alfred whistling and swaying his hips to a song. Arthur paused the television and slowly managed to stand, wrapping himself up in his blanket before sitting at one of his barstools at the breakfast bar, watching the currently clueless American.

"Yep! I'm cookin' you a breakfast fit for a soldier!" Alfred called from the kitchen. Arthur couldn't help but chuckle, seeing as Alfred hadn't noticed he'd moved yet.

"A soldier, Darling? We both know I'm too frail for that."
"Coming from a cop?"
Arthur pauses. "Touché."

Alfred goes back to dancing to the tune, which Arthur discovered was coming from an old 1940's radio he'd bought from an antique store years ago. He didn't even think the wanker worked. It just looked nice for his vintage taste.

Alfred had a bright grin on his face, hApPy he could make a full breakfast with one arm, Arthur was glad to see that Alfred's sling lasted through the night and early morning.

Alfred turned around with a grimace as a new song began playing, when he noticed Arthur sitting at the bar. His cheeks and the tips of his ears tinted a bright red, and he sheepishly looked at the floor.

"Good morning Love." Arthur smiled a little, resting his chin in his palm.
"How long have you been sitting there?" Alfred asked with a huff, going back to his breakfast, just staring at the pan. 
"Long enough to see that you can still move your hips through all that happened last night." Arthur winked.

Alfred took in a deep breath. "So, mind if I pull the pin out of our early morning conversation?"
"Which one? If it's the one about getting peanut butter in between your legs-"

"I'm talking about, marrying you." Alfred cut the Brit off sharply, delivering his plate in front of the Brit. Drawn in whipped cream and blueberries on his pancakes, with a real ring in the middle. Arthur noticed it and he softly smiled, looking up at the other. Now it was his turn for his cheeks to turn.

"Oh Alfred." He whispered softly, slowly removing the ring, taking the other off.
And when he looked again, Alfred was right next to him, only this time, on one knee.

Arthur became overwhelmed with emotions, fanning his eyes like a typical female. He hated crying but this time he figured it necessary.

"Arthur that ring never fit you. The one I gave you before the station. That's my ring. I've been wearing it to show that you were mine, that I was yours. That was never to be your ring. That ring, the one I'll be placing on your finger when we walk down that aisle, that'll be yours. Doll, ever since I saw those pretty green eyes of yours, tasted those sweet lips on my own, endures that taste of cigarettes and black tea. I knew I had to marry you. From the late night talks, to morning sex and sneaking McDonald's to solitary when I got in trouble." Arthur had begun to cry, cheeks only going redder. "I can't live with having the title of a boyfriend. That means you can easily be stolen by someone else. A husband? That's hard to break. Expensive too-" Alfred laughs. "Arthur, Arthur Kirkland. I mean it this time. Will you marry me?"

At this point Arthur was reduced to sobs and sniffles. He just quickly nodded his head, stretching out his arms to hug the American, burying his face in his chest. "I love you, I love you more than anything in the world." He sniffled, kissing his lover's face all over. Just peppering his face in love. "I'm so complete with you."

Alfred slowly slipped Arthur's true ring onto his finger, gently bringing Arthur's hand to his face, kissing the ring. "This is your ring's final home. Where it will remain for the rest of our days." He mumbled. "Are you okay with that?"

"Of course I am!" Arthur beamed, cupping his-actual-fiancé's cheeks. "I've never been so sure about something in my life."

Alfred nodded, reaching over to steal a piece of the Brit's bacon and eggs before being scowled at by Arthur.
"Some things never change." He hummed, crossing his arms.

Alfred began cooking himself some breakfast, smile never leaving his face. He moved back to the radio, surfing through the channels to see what he could find to listen to. He stumbled upon an oldie's station. Playing Elvis Presley's old hit, Can't Help Falling in Love.

Alfred practically yanked his lover out of his stool, bringing him into the spacious and large kitchen. Arthur blushed like a fool as Alfred slow danced with him, keeping the other close. Arthur irritably warned the oblivious American to the burning food on his stove but all Alfred would reply with was: "Nothing that you wouldn't cook," before twirling Arthur again. And Arthur would step on Alfred's feet with a scoff.
But that was their relationship.

As the song closed Arthur found himself indeed falling in love with his future husband  once more. He listened to his heartbeat close wondering how he could be so enamored with Alfred's infectious grin. His perfect eyes reflected behind his glasses in which he looked perfect with or without. His gorgeous body in which he was enamored with every time he saw.
Arthur had fallen in love with every part of Alfred and his personality. His zany personality.
But Alfred had fallen for that about Arthur much longer ago.