Chapter Text
“Wait, but why is it a police box?”
“Because that’s how it’s been for the last 60 plus years.”
“Yeah, sure, but why? Isn’t he an alien, why would he have a British police box? Is it some weird British thing I don’t get?”
“Just-, be quiet I’ve already lost track of what’s happening!”
“Well, if you’ve already lost track why not just explain why the Doctor travels in a police box?”
“Oh, shut it, shit’s going down!” Arthur mumbled from a cocoon of blankets and pillows and smacked Walter’s face with his long tail. It had been left exposed to the cold air of their apartment due to them not having enough blankets to bundle it up like Arthur was.
Walter let out a whine and feigned hurt while he rubbed his face where Arthur’s tail had smacked him. He hadn’t even hit hard enough to hurt, but Walter felt that the theatrics might earn him an explanation for the police box dilemma. Seriously, why not literally anything else? Brits are weird, he thought.
Despite Arthur being a weird British person, he was the best housemate Walter could ever ask for, even if he didn’t always explain all the weird shit. The blond man did all of his chores (and even Walter’s when he forgot), cooked them both dinner (Walter’s kitchen finesse lies in baking rather than cooking), let Walter use his shampoo when he forgot to buy more of his own, they played video games together, went drinking together, and, well…
Well, Arthur’s hot. Like, incredibly hot. Like the prettiest and handsomest man he’s ever met.
Walter was lost in his thoughts while sitting next to the before mentioned horned man on their couch, who, despite being wrapped up in at least three blankets, was still shivering. London weather had taken an uncharacteristic turn for the arctic, with freezing temperatures and even snow. Their block of flats had been ill prepared, and it’s now taking a while before the old red-brick building is warmed back up. The white wonder was magical to Walter, who had rarely seen snow back when living in Freiburg, but Arthur was a lot less enthusiastic for this rare change in weather. Poor guy, Walter thought. Even if the dragon traits looked cool as hell, he guessed that being half-cold-blooded wasn’t that great in practice.
That made him wonder, though… “Wait,” the words tumbled out of Walter’s mouth before he had the chance to think them over, “Why do you shiver when you’re cold or sweat when you’re hot if you’re cold-blooded? Doesn’t that just mean that you change body temperature no matter what?”
Arthur sighed and shivered a bit more violently. “I don’t know, man. I think it’s a weird mix of both, like I start shivering when I get cold but still continue dropping body temperature… I guess my physiology as always been’ a bit bonkers. Blame my ancestors.” He wraps himself tighter in the fabrics with another shiver.
“Huh… what a freak you are.”
Arthur scoffed and gave Walter another smack with the red tail. Walter merely hummed and was immersed back in his thoughts. Even if it’s hard watching his friend suffer through the changing yearly weather, it’s always been also a sweet sort of torture. He looked pretty cute snuggled up in his blankets, brows furrowed and tail twitching around. The summers are the best worst, though, because that’s when Arthur walks shirtless practically during all hours of the day… or maybe it’s the beginnings of summers, when the sun’s rays are finally getting warmer and when Arthur likes to lounge in them like a content cat, napping in the golden light under his favourite green dinosaur blanket.
Yes, being Arthur’s housemate was the best and the worst possible experience Walter could ever hope for. He was the best person in his life. Too bad that Walter had a massive crush on the person he spent his every day with.
Actually, fuck that, that’s an understatement.
He was straight up head over heels in love with the brit.
Absolutely smitten.
Intensely thirsting over the tall man whose tail took up way too much space on the couch.
It was now flung over his lap, probably trying to sap Walter’s body heat. The meaty appendage was almost as long as Walter was tall, and the weight of it was pretty nice and comfortable, fluffy tip twitching occasionally.
Sure, he could tell Arthur how he thought of him as a lot more than a friend, and during some nights in a way filthier manner than a friend ever ought to. But would that be worth losing this, this calm warm bond of companionship and just freely existing together that they had built up? No, absolutely not.
This was enough. It had to be.
Arthur could find someone who could stand at his level. Hell, Walter didn’t even know if Arthur was interested in men. Or anyone, for that matter. Is he in a relationship with anyone? Has he been?
But the situation in Walter’s poor heart was getting dire. This man unbeknownst to himself did such horrifyingly beautiful things to it that it was tough to breathe, hard to try and exist merely as a friend, a housemate. What if they could be more? What if he wouldn’t be immediately rejected? What if he could tell him-?
But no, Walter would rather die than confess his embarrassing weakness for the other, this had to be enough. It had to be. This was enough.
It wasn’t, though. It’s not. There’s no way it’s enough.
So, what if he didn’t feel the same? A bump in the road, a little unrequited love between bros, it’s fine, right? They’d still be friends, even when Walter would inevitably get rejected, no? So maybe he should tell him. Hint about it. Flirt a bit? Or-
But no, no he couldn’t. What if he’d ruin all of it? Make it unbearably awkward? Neither could get away from each other in that case, they’d be stuck in the same flat.
So no, he wouldn’t. He would only have to keep his mouth shut, even if it was usually hell-bent on not doing that.
…
Then another thought comes like a train crashing through against Walter’s better judgement, and it’s out of his mouth before he can even consider it. “Wait, so did one of your ancestors fuck a dragon?”
Arthur sputtered. “The hell- why would you ask something like that?! Agh, now I can’t unthink it!”
“Sorry.”
-
Turns out that the substance that Walter considered to be his best friend turned out to also be his greatest enemy: alcohol. It made his thoughts fuzzier and easier to deal with, and the nights a lot more fun, but it also chipped his already small amount of self-control away to non-existence. Usually that would have just been a road to fun new shenanigans, but it wasn’t nearly as helpful when you’re sitting next to a dude you are head over heels for.
Arthur and Walter had taken up a table at a nearby pub on a Friday evening. Arthur was winding down from a week of studying and trying to bear with the cold and frost, while Walter decided to just use it as an opportunity to spend time with his best bro (and get absolutely wasted). Beer was his vice, he knew that, but he was still going to live up to his German heritage no matter how many sighs of disappointment it would wring out of his drinking buddy.
After multiple drinks, Walter going on his sixth glass of beer, well and truly drunk, while Arthur had had two, the conversation had steered towards the horridly embarrassing subject of romance and relationships. Past ones, in particular. Or in Arthur’s case-
“What? You’ve never had a guy or a girlfriend?” Walter gaped. “Ever? Like, not even as a short fling or anything?” He was leaning heavily on his hand, elbow propped on the table they sat at, smushing his cheek against his hand while looking at Arthur with eyes wide and eyebrows raised.
“No, don’t ever remember havin’ one,” Arthur pondered and scratched the side of his face with a clawed finger. “Is it that weird?”
“The hell?” Yes, it is, Walter thought. Arthur, the hottest person ever, has never been in a relationship? Where the fuck has he grown up where men and women weren’t lining up to get a taste of him? “What, you mean you’ve never even kissed anyone?”
“I just haven’t? Never fancied anyone like that…”, the blond responded and picked up his glass to take a sip.
“Like, never ever? Really?” Walter repeated, confused, and surprised. Him? The athletic, traditionally handsome, smart, gentlemanly, kind, altruistic and just plain gorgeous man had never dated anyone in his life? Even Walter, the annoying, loud, skinny little rat he was had managed to get into the lives and pants of a few guys in his life; One of whom dumped him after realizing that Walter was looking for more, and that the other guy only had a thing for animal ears and a tail… And the others were similar cases as well, seeing him as nothing more than some cute wish fulfilment twink. “I mean, shit, man. Even I have managed to kiss someone.”
And once again, a thought comes barrelling through before Walter can really think about it, “So, what, you’ve never fucked anyone either?”
Arthur choked mid-sip and blushed a bright red to rival the markings near his eyes. He gathered his thoughts while coughing, and after a moment he slowly admitted, “… I have. Once.” He didn’t look at Walter and instead elected to steer his eyes to look out the window.
“Huh? So you’ve never kissed or dated but you’ve- “, realisation washes over Walter, “oh.”
“Don’t worry, wasn’t anything I was opposed to or against my will,” Arthur decided to elaborate, worrying that Walter had gotten the wrong impression, “Just an… experiment, shall we say. But wasn’t really that nice, either.” He then went silent and decided to continue indulging in his beer.
Should he tell Walter more about that one encounter? About how he had agreed mostly out of curiosity and had thought that maybe getting it on with one guy could get him interested in the act? It didn’t, though. He’d never been that interested in anyone, in a romantic or sexual sense, and the whole thing wasn’t that big of a driving force for him like it seemed to be for others…
Or at least it wasn’t, until he met Walter… but not like he could just say that.
“Well, that’s pretty fucked,” Walter said while the strength in his elbow gave out and he smacked his head on the table, the sudden thud startling Arthur whose tail whipped around behind him. It was a pretty comfortable table, so Walter decided to stay there. It also provided a very nice angle on Arthur’s face, the warm yellow glow of the indoor lighting hitting the contours of his face just right. His green slitted eyes seemed to glow in the dim lights, and the blueish outdoor light coming through the window reflected a beautiful glimmer in them. The red marking framing his eyes, the odd small braid on the right side of his face swaying slightly, the deep red scales of his hands wrapped around his glass… He looked ethereal, like something out of a story book or a romance novel.
“… so you’d like to remedy that?” Walter slurred in a daze.
“… remedy what? Not sure I need another bevvy.”
“Not that, don’t even have the money for it, but, like… I could kiss you if you’d like?”
“Eh?” Arthur stared at the dog-eared brunet laying on the table. His eyes were drooping while staring at Arthur, and he looked ready to fall asleep at any moment. There was a veil of red across his face, probably from the amount of drink he’d had. His fluffy tail wagging slowly from side to side.
“You know, I’d kiss you. Just gotta ask. You’re so pretty you know? Can’t believe,” Walter continued rambling, “never had a girlfriend or a boyfriend or a friend-friend, or wait, what’s, what’s the other English word for that? Don’t you have like a better way to say that?”
Arthur had a tough time registering what Walter was slurring on about. He just focused on the first bit. “I’d kiss you,” he said… would he? He’d like that, Arthur pondered absentmindedly. Very much so.
But he’s plastered, isn’t he? Is Walter even aware of what he’s saying, aware of who he’s even talking to? And Walter says weird spontaneous stuff constantly, is this just something that’s exacerbated with the alcohol and nothing more?
Is he even lucid?
“That’s a good idea, right? But, like, would you object?” Walter asked and rose from the tabletop with a wobble. “If I kissed you? I’d like that, you’re so pretty you know?” Walter began leaning in while Arthur’s brain was short-circuiting, which left him to just sit there and watch as Walter leaned closer, his eyes switching from looking him in the eyes to glancing at his lips. “I can… right?”
Before Arthur really had any time to refuse to accept, Walter leaned fully in and landed a messy kiss on the corner of his mouth. Arthur’s hands went instinctively to his shoulder, but the blond didn’t respond nor push him away. He couldn’t. What’s happening? Does he know what he’s even doing? Is it just a friend thing to do, is it normal in Germany to kiss a friend? Was it just a prank, a joke? Walter is absolutely wasted, no way he knows what he’s doing. He’s confused. He probably thinks him to be someone else, he’s drunk enough, and it wouldn’t be the first time.
It was over before Arthur had fully processed that Walter was truly kissing him. The brunet leaned back, and his soft warm lips left Arthur’s. Before he could get a good look at his drunken friend, Walter had already pressed his forehead into Arthur’s shoulder and let out a groan. Not in a sexual way, but more in a way that indicated nausea.
“… you’re fuckin’ knackered, aren’t you?” Arthur murmured softly to the other man who had flopped against him. His bushy tail had ceased moving and his ears had pinned themselves to the sides of his head…
Time to get them home, before Walter gets sick all over him. And before he really has time to think about what had happened. Arthur’s going leave that to simmer and maybe have a good think about it while in bed. And that he did. Safe to say, Arthur didn’t sleep well that night, lost in his thoughts and maybe a bit more due to what had happened.
-
The next morning was awkward and painful on so many levels. Arthur felt fine, but Walter had a bad hangover and a good headache to boot. Too bad that he hadn’t gotten so drunk as to forget what he’d done the night before. Walter had woken up that morning and been instantly flooded with the memories of the night before, washing over in in a wave of mortification. Oh, holy Lord in heaven, I kissed him without even getting permission. The memory of green eyes and cool lips haunted him.
What will he say?
It was so nice though.
Does Arthur hate him, now?
Or could he feel the same?
He should apologise…
Yes. Yes, he should apologise. No matter what, he should have waited for permission, he’s not some weird creep! He took his first kiss without even asking, for fuck’s sake! God it’s only becoming worse and worse as he thinks about it.
So that’s what Walter decided to do once he left their bathroom after washing his face and taking a painkiller or two. Arthur was in the kitchen, preparing what smelled like a traditional English breakfast, looking adorable in a light-green apron he always insisted on wearing and soft tartan patterned pyjamas. Well, maybe the awkward conversation could wait after they ate… that bacon smelled real good.
Arthur didn’t make any remarks about the previous night as he put a plate and a mug of coffee before Walter on their dinner table. Maybe he’d forgotten? No, he couldn’t have, Arthur only had a few drinks, surely, he would remember. Maybe he thought that Walter had forgotten instead…?
No, he should still apologise. Especially if he didn’t like him in that way. Which was most likely. The most obvious and probable conclusion. But Walter couldn’t help but hold a tiny flicker of hope. Maybe he could have… he didn’t push him away, or call him disgusting or a slur or seem that perturbed…
“So, uh…” Walter stammered after he had emptied his plate while was sipping on his tea, reading the news from his phone. He raised his eyes from it and looked at Walter, motioning him to continue. “Umm… about last evening…” He felt a blush forming on his face as he was trying to formulate how he was going to say what he wanted to. “I, uh… I’m sorry. Don’t know what came over me.” Walter averted his eyes, not daring to look at Arthur anymore. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
The bleak morning sun filtered through the window besides their table. Some dialogue and bad jokes resonated from the TV that’s on, even though neither of them was watching. When no answer came, Walter took a glance at Arthur who was looking at him with a strange expression on his face. Arthur took a while to respond, eventually moving his gaze back to his phone’s screen. “It’s… it’s alright. Accidents happen,” he says, impassive eyes staring blankly at his phone.
The rest of breakfast is had in an uncomfortable silence.
-
Walter was curled up on his bed, hugging a pillow to his chest, tail clutched between it and his chest.
Arthur has been avoiding him.
It had been obvious that he didn’t feel the same. He fucked up. He made it awkward, and Arthur has holed up in his own room to avoid seeing Walter.
At first Walter thought that it had been just a coincidence that the two hadn’t been in the same space for a bit, it happens, right? But it just continued. And continued.
No more dinner or breakfasts together, no hangouts or bar nights, not even with the girls from the 2nd floor. Arthur still cooked for them both, but he left Walter’s portion on the kitchen counter while he went to his own room to eat. They hadn’t even spoken to each other since that Saturday morning. It was now Saturday, again.
It's his fault. Walter had made it awkward and weird. He ruined it all.
So, he hates him, then. Arthur hates him now; he ruined what they had by not keeping his feelings in check. He rejected him, declared his feelings misplaced and accidental, nothing of consequence. Of course, he’s not interested in him, of course he isn’t! Why would he be? How could he be? He hadn’t been with anyone before, never been interested in those sorts of things, so what had made Walter think that he was any different?
He curled further on himself, a few tears escaping despite his best efforts. He clutched his tail tighter. Hugging it had been a comfort to him while growing up. His sisters had thought it was dumb and childish.
He should have known. He should have just internalized how his feelings were always unreciprocated and that he would at most be Arthur’s friend. Actually, Arthur probably had thought him only an acquaintance; just another housemate who could easily be replaced with someone else. Walter probably read too much into their “bond” if you could even call it that. He had been only inconsequential in the first place, and now he actively made their living situation worse.
Pathetic. He was pathetic. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut, like so many times before, and now he had made their relationship this weird avoidance game where the other couldn’t stand to be near the other.
Or maybe this was just the last straw that broke the camel’s back? Maybe Arthur had actually had a distaste for him the whole time, found him annoying and loud and obnoxious like everyone else and this was the last nail in the coffin?
Well, maybe Irmgard didn’t hate him… but could he know for sure? He had thought his family would always be there, but wouldn’t you know, they seemed happy when he moved away to the British Isles. Seemed relieved, even, now that the loud and odd black sheep of the family was gone. He bets all of his sisters had families already, the younger ones probably also had boyfriends. He hadn’t gotten a single message or letter from them since he left, if you didn’t count the ones filled with money near Christmas. But it was most likely just a shallow formality, merely an obligation for a family member that none of them liked.
Walter never opened any of them after the first one. All of them laid in a pile in a corner of his room. He was too weak to throw them away.
But they were right in the end. He was a pathetic excuse of a von Freiburg. A pathetic excuse of a friend, not able to keep his feelings in check and just shut up and enjoy what he had. An impulsive bastard with a mouth that kept on running even when it drove everyone away from him.
And even though Arthur was just on the other side of the wall, Walter felt more alone than he ever had before.
-
“What? You’re thinking of leaving? For real?” Irmgard gasped. She was sitting opposite of Walter beyond a coffee table littered with books and knitting projects. Probably Vellamo’s. “Is it honestly that bad between you two? That you’re actually thinking of just getting up and walking out?”
“Yep… it’s a nightmare, honestly. It’s so awkward. Even getting coffee in the morning is now a game of cat and mouse where we both are the mice, you know?” Walter sighed, slumped on another couch opposite of where Irmgard sat, his shoulder’s hunched up.
He had decided to pay a visit to his other friend and long-time confidant due to all… this. Thankfully Vellamo seemed to tolerate him enough to let him visit their flat. And the lady probably couldn’t speak German either, so his thoughts were extra safe with Irmgard. The only other German person he knew in England.
The women’s flat was beautifully decorated, full of tapestries, colourful textiles, and macramé’s. Multiple paintings and old photographs littered the walls, being an odd mix of traditional landscapes of lakes and forests as well as colourful abstract works. All of the visible surfaces in their living room were littered with even more books and knickknacks.
It was refreshing, speaking in German after such a long time. Even if they had a bit of an age gap (… 900 years, give or take), conversing with the violet-haired woman was very comforting. She was his second-best friend (well, his best now that Arthur’s no longer in the picture… maybe never had been), perhaps a lot more akin to a sister rather than just a friend. She had been his confidant since he met her, always promising to keep his deepest darkest thoughts a secret from the others. ‘The others’ meaning mainly Arthur.
“And it’s just a mess… I feel like I’ve ruined it all, he really doesn’t want anything to do with me. He’s actively avoiding even being in the same room as me.”
Irmgard exhales with a pained expression on her face. “Damn… I’m sorry. I’ll have to be honest; I don’t know how to help you with that… Are you sure you don’t want me to try and talk to Arthur about it?” Walter shook his head and Irmgard sighed, looking genuinely heartbroken on his behalf. “You’d like to go stay somewhere else, then?”
Walter shrugged dejectedly. “If you have any recommendations, sure. It’d help just to get away, even for a bit… I can pay some company to get the rest of my stuff later when I find a new place to stay.” He couldn’t bear staying in their flat anymore, knowing that Arthur was constantly there but not even willing to look at him. It was like walking on eggshells. He hated it, it tore his heart in half. He needed to get away to hopefully stop thinking about him.
Irmgard’s face fell. She was reluctant, but eventually relented and gave Walter a tip on a cheap B&B just outside of London where he could go stay for a bit. “… at least you’re not thinking of leaving the country, right?” she tries to joke, half-serious.
The young man let out an empty sound resembling a laugh but didn’t raise his head, and instead continued staring at the carpet under the coffee table; A colourful hand-made rag rug. “No… not like I’d have anywhere to return to there.” Leaving was probably the best option. He’d stop bothering Arthur as well as Irmgard and Vellamo. The couple is probably already tired of Walter constantly bursting into their living room to complain about his feelings, which he now knew where unrequited. But even though he did initially entertain the thought, he’s not going back to Germany. He’s not going to prove his family right and come back home to beg for a place to stay. With one last sigh Walter stood up and started walking towards the front door. “Well, I think I’ll get going. See you around.”
Irmgard jumped up from her seat on the couch and shouted after him, “Wait! Isn’t it too late today, maybe you should wait at least until morning-?!”
The door shut with a slam. Irmgard sighed deeply and sank dejectedly back down on the couch. She’s not his parent, she can’t decide what he’s allowed and not allowed to do. But still…
Could it really be that bad? Could what seemed to be a single miscommunication lead to so much heartbreak that Walter is actually just going to leave his only safety net behind? He sounded like he had been outright rejected, but hadn’t Arthur just said that ‘it’s alright’? Though, why would he start avoiding Walter, then… Arthur was famously very dense. Maybe the brit was actually the one who misunderstood just how serious Walter was being even while drunk…?
“Why didn’t you say anything?” came a voice from the kitchen, speaking in Finnish. Maybe Walter should have known better that the other person who had shared a living space with Irmgard for the last 80 years would also understand German.
“I couldn’t. I’d tell Arthur to go and clear up this clusterfuck of a misunderstanding that they have going on, but I’ve promised Walter to never say anything about his feelings to him. You know that when I promise something, I keep that promise. No matter what,” Irmgard answered back, easily switching to her lover’s native language.
Vellamo walked out of the kitchen carrying a tray of buns and two moomin mugs of coffee. She set them down on the coffee table in a little clearing in the books and sat next to her fiancé. Irmgard immediately snuggled up to her tall white-haired lover and picked up a bun from the tray.
“Honestly, those two… they’ve been pining for each other for so long, and neither have realized that they’re both doing it… it used to be funny but now it’s just plain depressing,” Irmgard groaned and took a bite out of the bun. “We weren’t that bad, right? I mean, you had your moments back then, but I think we figured stuff out pretty quickly?”
Vellamo placed a sugar cube in her mouth and took a sip of coffee, answering only with a simple ‘mmhm’.
“But I mean, really?” Irmgard continued, motioning wildly with the half-eaten bun in her other hand, “Walter kissed him square on the mouth and Arthur didn’t get it? I know he wants a piece of that dog-boy, I’m sure, so why aren’t they together already? I swear, he’s denser that a black hole that one… and now the whole thing is falling apart,” the violet-haired demon mumbled with a mouthful of a golden bun.
She stared off into the distance, idly chewing while her thoughts steered off, a long way into the past. This sort of situation had happened in the past, a couple hundred years ago, but she still remembers it. She’d promised not to tell, even though she dearly wanted to. It didn’t end well, that ordeal. Maybe in another lifetime, she would have broken the promise to stay silent and spoken up, saved the two of them from heartbreak and tragedy.
But words of intent are not merely words. They offer more than empty promises and feint trust. They bind, eternally binding.
Vellamo wraps a tentative arm around Irmgard’s shoulder which snaps the lilac woman out of her reverie. She sighs, and slumps against her lover. “I’d love to tell poor Arthur… but a promise is a promise. I hope you don’t hold that against me.”
“I don’t,” Vellamo answers and picks up her coffee cup from the tray, “… I know promises are more than just words for you.” Vellamo sips on her coffee some more, staring thoughtfully down at its swirling dark surface. Even though her expression is impassive, a multitude of thoughts are flowing through her mind, the plight of their upstairs neighbours affecting her as well. Heartless she may seem, but young love finds a way to melt even the heart of a hardened cold soul like her. Especially young love.
After another sip, Vellamo’s eyes widen, just slightly, as a realization comes over her.
“… I haven’t promised anything.”
-
He knew it. It had been a mistake, a drunken accident. He hadn’t meant it, which is why Walter apologised the next day. Of course, he hadn’t. What was Arthur even hoping for in the first place? So, what, had he actually hoped that Walter had intended to kiss him?
…
Bloody hell. He did. He had hoped that Walter would kiss him. But it was an accident. Walter had done dumber stuff while drunk, so maybe an accidental kiss wasn’t so outlandish an accident? And he had experience with this stuff, right? So he probably knew how to talk his way into someone’s bed… so all that talk about him being pretty and so on… just meaningless ramblings. Walter hadn’t meant to say any of it, and he regretted it the next day. Even apologized about it. Probably thought him to be a stranger to hit on.
Arthur had felt something terrible when Walter confessed to his mistake the night before. Heartbreak, probably. Felt awful. He wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy. He couldn’t even look at the brunet without being reminded of the feeling of his lips, the look in his amber eyes and upturned brows moments before their lips connected. And the hurt of being admitted to that it wasn’t meant to happen in the first place.
Yes, it probably was pretty awful of him to start avoiding Walter just because of his own messy feelings. Weak of him, really. But he couldn’t deal with the terrible feelings that surfaced when he saw him. Ironic, how after they had just talked about Arthur never being that interested in someone, he’d come to the full realisation of actually having his first ever actual crush on the brunet, getting a kiss from him, and then being admitted to the next morning that it-
that Walter hadn’t meant any of it.
Sad that he realized it now, in full clarity, how much he really enjoyed having Walter as a part of his day-to-day life. The other man was loud and talkative and prone to exclaiming whatever came to his mind, sure, but it seemed to mostly stem from either unbound curiosity or sheer excitement. Who was he to try and temper that? It was honestly adorable, seeing his ears wiggle and tail wag. Arthur remembered how interested the other had been in his horns, long tail and the gradients on his limbs when they first became housemates, the endless barrage of questions big and small…
He didn’t know how do deal with the train wreck of emotions that the altercation left him with. He’d realized he had a crush on his closest friend and that friend had kissed him and then promptly denied that it had meant anything. What was he supposed to do? What could he have said to him? What could he say now? He probably should have just declared clearly that they could stay friends, and that it was okay, that it didn’t bother him… but he didn’t. Because he would have lied.
It bothered him immensely. And he didn’t know what to do with the horrible sense of longing and need to be near the other, even when he knew that he should stay away.
Even now, multiple days later without even talking to Walter, it bothered him as he laid down on his bed in his room, wrapped in multiple blankets and hugging his tail to keep it warm. What would it have been like, to properly kiss him back? Pretty nice, probably. He knew Walter was warm, which was why it was the best when they could sit next to each other on the couch and Arthur’s tail could sap the others body heat… what would it be like to wrap his entire body around him, maybe even snuggle between those big fluffy ears, wrap his tail around him, keep him forever-
Arthur shifted uncomfortably on the bed. No, no use thinking of those things, a fever dream that can never happen. It only made it hurt so much more.
…
Where was he, for that matter? Did he go out? It was fairly late, the bedside clock showing 10:50 in the evening. Arthur had heard the flat door open and close a while ago, and there’d been no more movement in the flat since then… is he okay? Is he warm? Did he remember to take his gloves with him? Where did he go? Probably out drinking, maybe with Irmgard… or maybe to find someone else to spend the night with. Without him.
Arthur shivered again, despite being surrounded by a veritable mountain of blankets and wearing a light jacket to bed, hoping that the distant thoughts of amber eyes and incredible warmth would lull him to sleep despite the cold settling ever deeper in his bones.
…
A knock. Then a few more, the front door. It was someone else, Walter would have the keys… unless he forgot them home.
Arthur had to fight against every instinct in his pseudo-reptilian nervous system to stay in the cave of blankets, but he needed to open the door. Even if it was cold as hell. He manages to get himself out of his room and into the darkened living room. Walter wasn’t home, he only turned out the lights when he left the flat.
Arthur opened the door, bracing himself to see Walter behind it.
Instead, he’s greeted with the sight of a grey coat and white hair. He turns his face to look up at Vellamo, who, like she normally does, is looking just past his face somewhere behind him.
“He left,” she said in her trademark monotone intonation.
“What?” Arthur inquired. “I don’t think I quite understand.”
“I heard him speak of how you rejected him and how he’s going to leave and stay somewhere else,” Vellamo says and cocks her head to the side, flicking her gaze to briefly look at Arthur in the eyes. “I had a feeling you didn’t know that.”
“The hell? Wh- I rejected him? Why are you telling me this?” Arthur was so confused. Had he? But that would mean that there’s something to reje- wait.
“He’s leaving?!” he shouted, tail whipping wildly behind him, “Where?!”
“Irmgard may have promised not to tell you, but I’ve made no such promises,” the corners of Vellamo’s lips turn up just slightly, “He’s probably still on the way to the Underground. You know where the nearest station is.”
Arthur didn’t spend any more time to think of what he was doing; he grabbed his keys, slipped on his shoes and sprinted out the door. Vellamo closed it after him, seeing him sprint down the stairs without looking back. She walked back to her and Irmgard’s flat with a small smile on their face. Maybe it’ll turn out like in those romance novels.
-
Arthur wasn’t really thinking about what was happening or what he was doing in the larger scheme of things, but he was painfully aware of a few things in his panicked mindset:
- Walter was leaving
- There’s a misunderstanding that caused it
- He didn’t want Walter to leave him.
Thus, the blond brit ran out into the cold and the snow. He made a beeline straight for the nearest Underground station, which wasn’t that far off. It was very late into the night, so not a whole lot of people were on the streets, lucky for him. If he ran fast enough, he just might make it there before Walter could hop on. But it had been a while since he heard their flat door close, could he make it there in time?
No room for doubt, he had to. He just had to.
The snowfall hadn’t ceased, and he was stumbling through the piles of it on the ground. The cold was also slowing him down; he hadn’t in his hurry remembered to put on a heavier jacket or any other protection against the freezing temperature.
But he had to keep moving, this had to be fixed, whatever it was.
Thank God for his good physique.
His hands were cold, too cold. His lungs burned. Could he make it there in time? Did he go after him too late? But the stop wasn’t that far anymore, just around the corner and-
There!
“Walter! Wait, please!”
The brunet was standing just a few meters away from the stairs leading down to the station, a scarf wrapped round his neck and clad in a thick green winter-coat. There was a backpack slung over his shoulder. He whipped around and saw Arthur sprinting full speed at him, skidding to a stop before him.
“Hu- Arhtur?! What are you-?”
“Don’t leave.”
“Eh-?”
“Just,” Arthur was panting, exerted from the sprint and practically doubled over, trying to catch his breath, “please, don’t. I-“ He tried to desperately articulate against his lungs that were screaming for air.
“Did- did you run all the way here? You don’t even have a jacket, aren’t you cold-?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Arthur regained some sense of composure and straightened up. “I- I just-, please just don’t leave. I’m sorry, I don’t know, I didn’t- fuckin’ hell…” He shakes his head to dislodge some of his bangs out of his eyes. He wasn’t sure what to say. He knew what he wanted to express but didn’t know how to put it into words.
Walter stared at him with an uncomfortable expression, and when Arthur didn’t say anything for a while, lost in his thoughts searching for what to say, the brunet glanced sideways, ears drooping down. “I’m… I’m not sure why you’re apologising…”
“What?”
Walter’s eyes gained a pained glint in them, and his cheeks turned pink, maybe from the cold, Arthur thought.
Walter immediately regretted saying that, knowing that he now had to elaborate. “You heard me. I know I was the one who fucked things up and made it all weird and uncomfortable for you. I know I messed up … I don’t understand why you’d want me around anymore, since you don’t even-, I’m-” His voice wavered, eyesight becoming blurry. Damn! Now’s not the time to cry, man up, Walter! Fuck, didn’t help, here come the tears. He tried desperately to hide them under his bangs by turning his face away from Arthur, trying to discreetly wipe them with his hand. This was bad, he’s making a fool of himself. Luckily there’s a planned escape route. “So… you know, maybe it’s better if I just-“ He took a tentative step backwards towards the staircase leading into the Underground.
“No!” came the panicked response. Just as Walter was about to turn around and run away, Arthur grabbed his shoulders in desperation and held him in place, facing him. Walter was taken aback and stared at his friend, ears jolting up. Arthur still couldn’t think of what to say, so he went with the first thing that came to his mind. “No. It’s- it’s not your fault. I’m sorry. I know you didn’t mean it, and that you were really drunk and probably thought that- that I was someone else or something. I know that, that you apologised because it was just a bloody drunken mishap, that it didn’t mean anything! And I couldn’t handle it and-, I’m the fucking muppet here, the one who’s supposed to be sorry…” Arthur sighed and tried to calm himself down.
“So, I’m sorry. It’s all ‘cause of my own weird feelings and how I couldn’t handle it like an adult, but, just, please,” Arthur felt a wetness gather in his eyes, and he couldn’t help himself, the cold, the desperation and just plain yearning getting to him. He hugged the shorter man, wrapping his arms tightly around his slim frame, Walter’s backpack tumbling to the ground. Arthur heard him let out a small yelp and felt him tense up in his arms. “Please… just, don’t leave… I don’t care, I’ll get over myself and handle it like man, we can be just friend, just please don’t leave, just don’t.”
Arthur held onto the shorter man for dear life, fearing that he may slip away if he let him go. And Walter was warm, even with the winter-coat insulating him and keeping his body heat inside it. So warm.
“Wait, hold on, hold your horses,” Walter tried to say, though his voice was muffled while his face was pressed against Arthur’s shoulder. He tried to wiggle himself to loosen Arthur’s tight hug around him, only somewhat succeeding. “What do you mean ‘I know you didn’t mean it’ and ‘thought it was someone else’? You thought I wasn’t fully aware of what I was doing?”
“… yes? Is that not what you were apologising for, for accidentally coming onto me?” Arthur was confused and distracted by the soft ears twitching under his chin.
“You thought- I mean technically yes, but actually no, but- The fuck, I thought you rejected me!”
Walter’s words registered in Arthur’s brain a moment later. “Rejected? Wait, so you… you really meant all that?”
Walter managed to push himself off Arthur’s shoulder far enough to look him in the eyes. Arthur’s eyes were glistening with tears as well, but Walter could hazard a guess that he looked a fair amount worse. He sniffled and wiped some of the escapee moisture from his face. “You dumbass,” he hissed, though it didn’t sound as accusatory as he had wanted it to, “of course I did! I’ve been pining after your dense ass for so long at this point. I, uh, well… I guess alcohol does loosen some inhibitions, huh.”
Arthur took a moment to process all of that, staring at him with a dumbfounded expression. “… you like me?”
Walter chuckled wetly. Arthur’s face made quite a comedic sight, handsome though he was. “Yes, I guess I do.”
Arthur felt his brain shut down and boot up again. He likes me? He actually likes me? In a romantic sense?
“Yes? Is that so difficult to believe?” Walter answers his questions accidentally spoken aloud, one ear drooping down and an incredulous smile stretching across his face. “I find it weird how you don’t have a line of people wanting to take you out, I mean seriously!” The German man admitted while he fumbled with the ends of his soft scarf. “And, what, you mean to tell me that you’re interested in me? Me? Didn’t take you for the jokey kind. It’s not a very funny prank to be honest, but we can forget about it and-“
Instead of responding with words, like how he probably should have since not talking is what got them in this situation in the first place, standing in front of an Underground station in heavy snowfall at 11 o’clock in the evening, Arthur acted on instinct instead and took hold of Walter’s face, cradling it in his cold hands. Before Walter could ask Arthur what he was doing, Arthur pressed their faces together in a clumsy but needy kiss.
Walter was warm. So very warm. His face heated up in Arthur’s hands, his hands frozen still on his shoulders. He didn’t respond at first. Arthur pressed another heady kiss on his lips after taking a gasp of air, and Walter let himself relax in the other’s tight hold, surprise and disbelief melting away. He pressed back eagerly, hands wrapping around Arthur’s neck, the other one entangling itself in Arthur’s short hair, fingers flicking against his horns.
And it felt right. A catharsis like no other. A flickering snowflake in the light of a streetlamp, the distant announcements of ‘mind the gap’ fading in the background. Arthur moved his other hand to press into Walter’s hair, the other sliding down to wrap around his back and press him even closer. All their pent-up emotions coming to a head. Don’t go. Please, don’t leave me.
It was a little clumsy. Arthur’s sharp teeth nicked Walter’s lip by accident a few times. But it was everything they wanted and needed it to be, and so much more; for neither had had any hopes for it in the first place. But here they were. And turns out that even with practically no experience whatsoever, Arthur was a great kisser. Walter felt the heat in his bones, and he grasped Arthur’s hair in return for the intensifying pressure. Arthur just pulled Walter ever closer, even with his tail wrapping around Walter’s leg to pull him towards him.
When Arthur’s finger accidentally grazed against one of Walter’s ears while his teeth snagged on the edge of his lip, Arthur felt the other let out a gasp of his name. Once again following pure instinct (and what he had read in romance novels), he pressed his tongue into his mouth. Warm. So, so very warm. More.
Walter tensed up once again, and his hand tightened its grip on Arthur’s hair, a small moan escaping from his lips. What kind of gift from some deity is this, to have this absolute bombshell of a man kiss him like no other ever has before? Arthur’s tongue started to explore his mouth and- oh Lord there’s so much of it. Walter had stolen a glance or two of this specific draconic feature of his before; a long tapered tongue stretching far longer than a normal human’s. And very dexterous, indeed. It felt wonderful, exploring his mouth and wrapping effortlessly along his own, causing a string of needy sounds to escape from Walter’s throat, which just seemed to spur Arthur to clutch him even closer, and to absolutely destroy his mental wellbeing with only the feel of his lips and that blessed tongue.
Eventually the two had to separate for air, Arthur slowly pulling his tongue out of Walter’s mouth (“Good lord it’s fucking huge,” Walter thought absentmindedly, watching it recede from in between his lips), a string of saliva connecting their lips. Both of their faces were redder than Arthur’s horns, with even the said man’s eye markings almost blending in the redness of his countenance.
Walter didn’t look any better; panting profusely, ears tilted back and tail incessantly wagging happily from side to side. Arthur took notice of it and glanced over Walter’s shoulder, watching it swishing behind the brunet. Walter realized what was happening and he pushed Arthur’s face back with his hand and managed to blush an ever brighter red with a quiet hissed “Don’t look!”. Arthur laughed but didn’t let go of Walter and just settled back into hugging him, pressing his chin on the other’s shoulder. And cheekily continued watching the fluffy brown tail.
The two stood there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being so close to each other, listening to each other’s breathing, touching without the fear of the other rejecting them. “So,” Arthur began and saw Walter’s tail slow in its movements, “are we… are we a thing now?”
“Only if you want us to be…” Walter spoke softly into Arthur’s shoulder, hand still tangled in his hair, stroking the light strands. “If- if you have second thoughts it’s-“
“I only have second thoughts if you have second thoughts,” Arthur said and noticed how Walter’s tail began wagging again. Cute.
“So… safe to assume that we’re an item now?”
Arthur chuckled, a warm and deep noise that Walter felt more than heard, being pressed against him as closely as he was. “I guess so…”
Walter laughed as well, and the two stood there again in a comfortable silence. “You know, you could have called me.”
“Huh?”
“I have my phone with me, you know? You could have just given me a call and not had to run out into the snow and cold.”
Oh yeah, he could, Arthur realized. “… Didn’t have time to think about it.”
Another shared chuckle from the two of them, and Walter ruffled Arthur’s blonde locks. Another comfortable moment of silence, just the distant sounds of traffic and snowflakes falling on the ground.
Then he noticed how Arthur was leaning more and more heavily against him. And how cold his skin was. Thus, Walter remembered the dilemma that the other had been fighting even while indoors.
And now they were both standing outside, at night, while it’s snowing. The fucker didn’t even put on a proper coat!
“Hey, Arthur. Arthur, oi!” He shook the other, who slowly leaned away from Walter. He looked very tired and seemed a bit out of it… is he going into hibernation? How long has he been outside now? Wait, can reptiles even hibernate? Whatever it is, it’s probably best to get him warm and fast, Walter thought. “You idiot, here,” Walter began to unwind the scarf around his neck and took off his jacket, dressing Arthur in them. “Honestly, even I know that you handle cold super poorly and here you are, outside without even an actual winter jacket!”
“I needed to get to you before you could leave…” Arthur murmured and snuggled into the scarf Walter was wrapping around him, the coat so warm and all of it smelling like him. Warmth…
Walter, now dressed only in a thin hoodie, took Arthur’s hands in his own and rubbed them, trying to warm up the extremities. It was hard to tell how badly they’d been frozen since they were always red, but they felt freezing. “You actual idiot, you really should have just called. Come on, let’s go home.”
“You… you’re not leaving?” Arthur inquired with upturned brows and unfocused eyes, looking like a lost puppy.
Walter sighed, picked up his backpack from the ground and slung it over his shoulder. Yep, totally out of it. He then took Arthur’s hand and started walking them both back towards their block of flats. “No. No reason to anymore. Right?” He smiled at his friend, his lover. The other beamed back and willed his freezing limbs to move.
And thus, the two set on walking back to their flat, both smiling like fools.