#i forgot gils' freaking collar.

[parme-san]

WHATEVER. look at. um. my self ship art. boy

[atomicstrawbrys]

A.K. (1/?)

Alfred is a high school star with everything he could possibly want- until a student comes from England and suddenly becomes priority number one. USUK. High school AU. //

Alfred had gotten to school late the day he fell in love. He’d had a doctor’s appointment that morning, checking on the arm he’d broken a few weeks prior. Arm in a cast and cast in a sling, Alfred walked into the doors of his high school two periods late, note in hand to excuse his partial absence. 

He’d managed to catch the school in between classes, so students shuffled along the halls as he entered, a few giving courteous nods or friendly smiles as they made eye contact. Alfred was beloved by many- resident wonder athlete and science geek, he made himself popular with most student groups, and even those outside his social sphere at least regarded him as a good guy. Alfred was an all-arounder in every sense of the word, and he prided himself on the fact that there wasn’t a person in his life that didn’t seem to like him. Well, except maybe for his brother’s boyfriend Ivan, but he lived in Russia for half the year so he really didn’t count.

Speaking of his brother, Alfred noticed Matthew approaching him, waving as blonde curls bounced lightly on his shoulders. “Al! You made it!”

“ ‘Course I did, Matt! Mom, let one of us miss a day of school? I’m pretty sure she’d make us go if we were dying, so this was nothin’.” Alfred laughed, elbowing Matthew with his good arm. “So, did I miss anything?” He asked, walking down the hall with him to put some of his stuff in his locker. 

“Actually, yeah.” Matthew shrugged. “Some new guy got here today- he’s all the way from England, can you believe that? I don’t know his name, though- he was only in one of my classes and I sort of forgot...he’s kinda weird, though, I don’t know- you’ll see what I mean.”

Alfred chuckled. “Weirder than you? This I gotta see.”

He walked up to his locker, and, after twisting the combination, he opened it up and dropped some of his things off. He waved as Matthew left to get his own books and head to his next class, and as he waved he noticed that the locker to his right no longer seemed unoccupied. Previously a plain grey, the locker now wore one sticker, a plain white rectangle with the initials “A.K.” printed in black font. “A.K.,” huh? He smiled. Apparently, he’d be seeing this new guy a lot. 

Before he could, though, the bell for third period rang, and he slammed his locker shut and ran the rest of his way to class. 

He settled down in his seat, a worn out, scratched up desk right beside his best friend.

“Hey, Gil.” He whispered, grinning. 

“Alfred! You made it.” Gilbert playfully punched his shoulder. “For a while there I thought you might have abandoned me today.” 

Alfred snorted, waving a hand to quiet him down. “Come on, man, I wouldn’t. Hey, listen- you know anything about this A.K. guy? The one from England? Matthew said something about him earlier, and I gotta say, anyone that that syrup-guzzling freak thinks is weird has sparked my interest.” 

“Oh, yeah! I do- I ran into him on the way in. And I mean literally ran into him. I knocked all his shit on the ground, and you should have heard the fancy British curses he threw at me!” Gilbert laughed. “I gotta remember some of those, man, he was creative.”

Settling into silence, Alfred spent most of his class mulling over what he knew about the oh-so-mysterious A.K. He was from England, he was...weird, apparently, and he had a temper on him. None of these sounded like particularly good personality traits, and though Alfred did hope that he was wrong and that this guy would turn out to be alright, he had his doubts. Having yet another student come in from another country was certainly interesting, though, even if his school did get a disproportionate amount of foreign students both temporary and permanent.

It seemed that he just kept barely missing A.K. throughout the day, as each time he would go to gather his things there would be a new sticker on the locker next door. A.K. was putting one on between each period. First was a sticker of the Loch Ness Monster, and Alfred could appreciate the elusive A.K.’s interest in cryptozoology. Hell, he was almost a cryptid himself, the way he drifted in and out without being seen, leaving only traces of his presence behind. Next came the rainbow flag sticker- Alfred didn’t have to guess what that meant. He did, however, have to look up the sticker that came after that, a similar flag with two pink stripes, two blue, and one white. The sticker after that was for a band Alfred didn’t recognize, but the last sticker, a monster that Alfred recognized from one of his favorite shows, indicated that perhaps he and A.K had at least a few common interests. 

When he approached his locker after his last class, he found himself walking just a little faster to try and catch his slippery neighbor before he went home. As he approached his locker, he saw that the one beside it was open, A.K. standing in front of it. The locker door obscured him from view, but Alfred could see black ripped jeans and heavy, heavy boots tipped with steel. 

“Uh, Hey!” He greeted, lightly knocking on the locker door. “I uh, haven’t met you yet! Name’s Alfred!” 

The stranger behind the door jumped and slammed it shut. He turned, and Alfred’s eyes widened. The world around him muffled and faded into irrelevance- the only thing worth paying attention to was the boy in front of him- with his black top and huge purple jacket, fur collar so large it tickled the bottoms of his ears. His head was a half-shaved mess of natural, sandy blond and dyed lavender, and his face- god, his face, all freckles and piercings and black lipstick, and beautiful, downright gorgeous green eyes accentuated by rings of black eyeliner. A.K was magnificent, in every sense of the word, and Alfred found himself suddenly not so heterosexual. 

“Can I help you?” The angel’s voice reached Alfred’s ears, and he giggled like an idiot before he could stop himself. This seemed to be a bad move, though, as A.K scowled at him, pulling on his backpack and stuffing his hands in his pockets. He started to push past him, but Alfred placed a hand on his shoulder before he could go. 

“Wait-! Uh, I’m sorry- I’m not laughing at you, I just- what’s your name?”

A.K. seemed skeptical, raising a thick eyebrow in Alfred’s direction.

“...Arthur. Now, I really must be going home. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, uh, Albert.” He shrugged Alfred’s hand off and shuffled down the hall, students naturally giving him a wide berth as he went.

Alfred, a lovestruck fool, sighed longingly and leaned against his locker, a hand clutched over his heart. Giggling again, he whispered.

“He almost knows my name!”