Chapter II

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"Arthur, get the fuck up, we're going to be late to class! God, you're worse than my previous roommate..."

Alfred stood in the middle of their shared room with his backpack over his shoulder, hands on his hips and lips pursed forming a frown on his face. He had spent the last ten minutes trying to wake the Englishman up, and when he finally got him to open his eyes, he just continued rolling around the bed and refusing to get ready for English, the class they shared today. The American had already been in Calculus earlier in the morning while the other was sleeping like a baby, no sound able to make him move a single milimeter.

"I don't want to..." Arthur groaned into his pillow, tossing and turning once again while tightly gripping the bedsheets.

"I will choke you with a pillow! We can't be late today, we have a creative writing session, and those are my favourite parts of English!"

"My favourite part is sleeping longer."

And after that statement, Alfred just gave up. "Right, I'm going by myself. You stay in bed and give a bad first impression to the professor. Don't forget, you're a newcomer, they don't always have to be nice to newcomers..." He turned away, approaching the door in slow steps hoping that Arthur would change his mind and join him. "I'm leaving now... Aren't you tempted to get up just by my teasing? You can beat me in a race to class!"

He got absolutely no response from the Englishman.

"I'll take you on a date this evening if you go."

Finally, that's what broke him. Almost choking at the words, Arthur fell out of bed with an intense blush on his face that he wasn't able to hide. "You git! How do you even know I'm into you? How could you even assume I like men?!" He was close to shouting out, but all that came out was a weak tone and an embarrassing voice crack to which Alfred let out a string of loud laughter that echoed through the space around them.

"Oh, I knew as soon as I saw you. I guess I have a sixth sense about those kinds of things." The younger boy chuckled, helping Arthur up from the floor.

He hadn't felt so ashamed of himself in years -being so obvious about who he liked when he tried his best to repress the emotions and hide them forever. At last, he planned to take that secret to the grave. But again, Alfred was attractive in all aspects, and having a dinner date with him sounded like quite the plan. Even if they just met a day ago, there was this strange feeling of an instant connection lingering in the air, and perhaps the only way that slight bit of remaining tension could have been removed was with a kiss.

"Whatever, I'm going. Just give me a minute to get ready." The Brit sighed, mumbling something under his breath and quickly throwing on a black t-shirt, replacing his pyjama pants with blue ripped jeans. In his eyes, he didn't look half as good as Alfred, who styled his hair perfectly, only a small part of it sticking out almost as if he made it purposefully. He was wearing a dark blue All Time Low hoodie and grey sweatpants that Arthur wanted to take off right there. But not because he didn't like them, of course.

The boy was now smirking and standing at the door, satisfied how he was able to get a date and get Arthur out of bed all in ten minutes.

"We're still on for that dinner tonight, right?" He asked as they took their leave.

"Talk to the hand, Jones."

- - -

After a successful English class, the two of them decided to meet up with Alfred's friend group - actually, it was more like Arthur giving up and finally accepting that meeting new people is healthy after the American nagged him about it for twenty minutes, and even during class because he just had to be the one to finish the writing assignment first and also somehow make it the longest.

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