Soul on Fire - High School!AU
Soul On Fire
Alfred may not remember the date, but he can tell you the time, season, situation, and location of the first time he realized he might not be as straight as he thought.
It was sometime after midnight during Christmas break, and they had two cars and twelve teenagers grouped to wander the suburbs, nothing but a waste of gas. He was sharing the backseat of a Civic with three boys and a girl, shotgun already called by Bridget. Gilbert was driving, Francis at the wheel of the other car as they raced down a back highway; Bridget shrieked and urged him on. In the back, Alfred stretched his arm along the back of the seat, Arthur on one side and the door on the other. His brother was mirroring his position on the other side, but he’d lucked out, getting cute and clueless Mei to sit next to. She was leaning back into his scrawny shoulder; Al stuck his tongue out at him when they made eye contact.
A sudden left turn had all of them falling towards him, and they cursed and laughed as Gil cackled maniacally and cut Francis off.
When they won against physics and straightened back up, Arthur was pressed all along his side and suddenly Alfred couldn’t think of anything else.
The car bumped and Arthur’s head knocked against his shoulder; their near legs were forced together from hip to knee, setting fire to Alfred’s skin; through the leather of his bomber jacket, Arthur’s body leaned into him.
He glanced down at his face, but he could only see flyaway hair and the bridge of his nose from this angle.
Arthur sighed, and he felt it.
Alfred turned his head away and pressed his burning cheek to the ice-cold window, staring at the houses and trees flying by and trying not to think about Arthur, close and there and only some cotton and leather between them-
Oh, he was now thoroughly fucked.
Alfred may not remember the date, but he can tell you the time, season, situation, and location of the first time he realized he might not be as straight as he thought.
It was sometime after midnight during Christmas break, and they had two cars and twelve teenagers grouped to wander the suburbs, nothing but a waste of gas. He was sharing the backseat of a Civic with three boys and a girl, shotgun already called by Bridget. Gilbert was driving, Francis at the wheel of the other car as they raced down a back highway; Bridget shrieked and urged him on. In the back, Alfred stretched his arm along the back of the seat, Arthur on one side and the door on the other. His brother was mirroring his position on the other side, but he’d lucked out, getting cute and clueless Mei to sit next to. She was leaning back into his scrawny shoulder; Al stuck his tongue out at him when they made eye contact.
A sudden left turn had all of them falling towards him, and they cursed and laughed as Gil cackled maniacally and cut Francis off.
When they won against physics and straightened back up, Arthur was pressed all along his side and suddenly Alfred couldn’t think of anything else.
The car bumped and Arthur’s head knocked against his shoulder; their near legs were forced together from hip to knee, setting fire to Alfred’s skin; through the leather of his bomber jacket, Arthur’s body leaned into him.
He glanced down at his face, but he could only see flyaway hair and the bridge of his nose from this angle.
Arthur sighed, and he felt it.
Alfred turned his head away and pressed his burning cheek to the ice-cold window, staring at the houses and trees flying by and trying not to think about Arthur, close and there and only some cotton and leather between them-
Oh, he was now thoroughly fucked.