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It wasn’t like they hadn’t seen each other in ages. It was, at most, a single day. Alfonse had to keep reminding himself of that, how not much time had passed even though a lot of things had changed.
He hadn’t expected his father to just… accept it. He’d expected him to put up a fight, like he had initially with Sharena. Maybe because Sharena had done this first, come clean, it was easier to accept from his other child.
Or maybe it was because he was too busy focusing on how both his children told him they wanted to risk their lives fighting for their country. In light of that, he probably hadn’t paid much mind to his child’s much shorter hair, or the additional request to be treated like a man.
They’d still asked to join the Order, though, even though their father had said he couldn’t bear to speak to them if they went through with this. That was enough to give Alfonse pause, but it wasn’t like he could just stop after coming this far. It had led to a huge argument that lasted much of the morning, but then their father settled back in his throne, the fight draining out of him like water from a sieve.
The armor Alfonse had been fitted with soon after was proof enough that he’d gone through with it, heavy and incredibly tangible on his body. Normally, he’d take it off since there was no need to wear it while in the castle, but he needed the reminder. Besides, he wanted to show a certain someone, since it had been a full day since they last saw each other.
And that led him to right now, posed outside Zacharias’s door, fist raised to knock on it despite Zacharias insisting Alfonse didn’t need to do that in his own home. (Still, he wanted to respect his friend's privacy and could never bring himself to just barge in.)
There was no reason to be afraid, Alfonse told himself. Zacharias had known all about his plans. He was Alfonse’s closest friend, someone the prince could tell about anything and be certain it wouldn’t get back to his father. Alfonse asked him for advice even before he went to Sharena.
Still, he worried about Zacharias’s reaction to all of this. It was irrational and Alfonse knew it, but that couldn’t stop his fears. Zacharias was like him, he wouldn’t be disgusted by how Alfonse looked now. He was also the one to encourage Alfonse and Sharena to join the Order of Heroes in the first place, so that wouldn’t bother him, either.
So why couldn’t Alfonse knock on the door?
“Are you planning on going in?” Alfonse jumped and spun around at that, finding Zacharias right in front of him.
“I… yes! Of course,” Alfonse said, almost wincing at how high his voice sounded there (for multiple reasons).
Upon entering the room, he immediately went to sit on Zacharias’s bed, the man himself settling down beside him. He was shirtless at the moment, but his wet hair led Alfonse to believe he’d been bathing rather than intentionally showing off.
Not that Alfonse didn’t understand why he might possibly want to show off. If he’d gotten his chest flat like he wanted after years of complaining about it, he might be tempted to go around shirtless more often, too.
The surgery had been a rather recent development, but one that Alfonse very much appreciated, especially when they were training. It turned out that Alfonse quite liked seeing Zacharias shirtless more often, distracting though it could be. Besides, Zacharias also seemed much happier, and Alfonse had to appreciate that, as well.
“You look good,” Zacharias commented, giving Alfonse a quick once-over. As soon as the words left his lips, he glanced away, placing a hand on his neck. “Not… like that. You look more comfortable, I mean.”
Alfonse thought about it. Did he? Certainly, he felt less tense now that he’d come out. It was one less source of stress for him, at the very least. He made a humming noise, thinking it over a little more, before saying, “I am.”
Zacharias smiled at that and Alfonse couldn’t help but smile back, even as Zacharias leaned into his space. “Do you mind if I…?” He motioned to Alfonse’s hair. Alfonse had only the faintest idea what he wanted to do, but he trusted Zacharias with his life, so he nodded.
Zacharias reached out slowly, gently touching some of the strands of Alfonse’s hair. This sort of contact felt even more intimate than the couple of times they shared a bed together, but Alfonse’s hair was considerably shorter. Maybe a change like that warranted more contact than usual. “Your sister did a good job, it’s nice on you,” Zacharias murmured, breaking Alfonse out of his thoughts. He nodded in reply, hoping Zacharias wouldn’t notice as he took the opportunity to lean into his hand a little more.
Eventually, Zacharias froze, pulling back like he'd been burned. “I think you should get changed now, that armor can’t be comfortable,” he said, and Alfonse could tell from the way he was avoiding eye contact that he was only using that as an excuse. “You’ve been in it for much of the day, have you not?”
He had been, but he could stay in it for longer. He would have said something to that effect, until Zacharias continued with, “It’s evening anyway. We should be getting ready for bed,” even though it wasn’t all that late out. That was a clear dismissal, and whatever the matter was, it was probably for the best if Alfonse didn’t press Zacharias on it.
Nevertheless, it was disappointing. Alfonse prayed at that moment that his face wasn’t showing everything he was feeling, but considering how Zacharias looked at him, he must not have been doing a good job of hiding it. He pushed it down in the next moment, willing himself to look more neutral.
“Of course,” Alfonse said, blandly, turning to leave. “Good night, Zacharias.”
He was at the door, pushing it open, when Zacharias said, “Wait.” He didn’t continue speaking until Alfonse turned back around, and then he hesitated, as if he hadn’t planned on opening his mouth at all and had to figure out something to say. Eventually, he seemed to settle on, “I’m so proud of you. Good night, Alfonse.”
Despite it all, even something simple as that left Alfonse smiling as he made the short trek back to his own room.