Chapter Text
"You cannot be serious, Crumpet."
Arthur glared up at the tree in which his cat was hidden.
The wretched beast escaped his carefully enclosed balcony while Arthur had been vacuuming his apartment. He only realized it about half an hour ago, and once he stepped outside of the building to begin the search, he had quickly discovered the cat had climbed up in one of the trees out front.
He tried to lure Crumpet out of the tree with some treats and wetfood, of course. But the cat refused to move an inch. At first Arthur was convinced the cat was intent to ruin his free Sunday, but by now he knew that the brown-furred British Shorthair simply didn't know how to climb back down to the ground.
And since the branch Crumpet was perched on was far too high to reach with an average ladder, animal control had suggested he called the local fire department.
The lady answering his call sounded very amused when Arthur explained why he needed their help, his cat yowling angrily in the background like some hellish banshee the entire time. And as if that wasn't embarrassment enough, the yowling managed to attract quite some attention from concerned neighbors too.
("Aw, poor Crumpet. He must be so frightened."
"He's just being dramatic.")
He sighed and pocketed his phone once more. Refusing to let the mongrel out of his sight, in case Crumpet decided to go 'flying squirrel' on him, Arthur sat down on the stone parapet separating the sidewalk from a front yard.
Crumpet kept a close, glaring eye on him as well, tail anxiously swishing.
"I do hope he will leave that nest of finches alone." The elderly woman living below him mused.
Arthur resisted a scoff. Firstly; he didn't think any bird was nesting at this time of year. Secondly; he thought the safety of his own cat was a bit more important. And thirdly; Crumpet had the hunting instinct of a jellyfish, the pampered little tramp.
"I'm sure they'll be all right." He replied instead, bracing himself for nonsensical small-talk.
About fifteen minutes later an obnoxiously red fire truck calmly rounded the corner. Arthur saw the people living across from him curiously open their drapes, and lamented the fact that this was going to be the talk of the block for the following week.
"I hope you're pleased with yourself." Arthur muttered with one last glance to his cat, ignoring the questioning sound his neighbor made.
He stood up and dusted himself off before heading over to the now parked truck.
Two men jumped out of the truck, both dressed in their typical firemen gear save for their turnout jackets. One went around to climb on the back of the truck to prepare the aerial ladder, and the other approached him.
Arthur nearly tripped over his own two feet when he got a good look at the guy.
Good god, those over glorified television series weren't exaggerating. If this was the sort of man they put on those tacky calendars, well, Arthur might just have to buy one.
The fireman approaching him wore a bright smile on his young and attractive face. He was probably in his early to mid-twenties. The glasses perched on his nose made him look a little dorky, but they also framed his face spectacularly, adding a bit of a mischievous touch.
The man came to a halt in front of him and of course he was also taller than him, because why not? Arthur blinked and unconsciously let his eyes drift over the man's lean physique, lingering at the broad set of shoulders that he assumed some people would pay to see shirtless (him included).
"Mr. Kirkland, yeah?" He asked, and Arthur helplessly met the man's clear, sky blue eyes.
And then he was acutely aware that he most definitely looked like an absolute mess. It was his free day after all, and he had spent it cleaning his apartment. Which meant he was wearing an oversized hoodie with a pair of sweatpants that was riddled with bleach and paint stains.
Well, he had hardly expected to run into God's gift to bloody mankind now, did he?
Apparently he'd been quiet for a second too long, because the man cleared his throat, bright smile turning a little tentative.
"Alfred F. Jones, at your service. I heard your cat got itself in a bit of a pickle?"
Crumpet took that very moment to release another ear-splitting yowl and the firefighter looked up with surprise, allowing Arthur the time he needed to force his mind back out of the gutter.
"Yes." He quickly replied, trying not to flutter his eyelashes like a hormonal teenager with a crush on their gym teacher. He was a respectable adult and he would act like one, damn it.
The firefighter - Alfred - raised a hand to shield his vision from the sun as he peered up the tree at the cat. Arthur only just managed to not hum approvingly at the way the man's shirt stretched around his bicep. Sweet heavens, those arms -
"Not often we get to rescue a cat from a tree." Alfred then said conversationally. "Usually animal control beats us to it."
"I did call them first, but they directed me to you lot, considering the height of the tree."
"Makes sense." Alfred nodded with a confident grin that made Arthur feel a little weak in the knees. "Don't worry, I'll have her back in your arms in no time!"
"Him." Arthur cleared his throat when Alfred tilted his head innocently. "It's a him. You should wear gloves, he's a menace."
"Will do, don't worry!" The firefighter saluted him with a grin and returned to the truck, climbing onto it agilely.
Now that the fireman was no longer in front of him, Arthur found it easier to get back to the matter at hand.
Knowing that he couldn't run back inside and change, he decided to simply own his appearance. Crossing his arms, he watched Alfred ascend the aerial ladder raised from the truck.
Anxiety bubbled low in his stomach then; Crumpet managed to get quite high, and he dearly hoped the cat wasn't stupid enough to jump away and plummet down to his untimely death.
While Crumpet could be a right snobbish arsehole from time to time, he loved the cat dearly. He'd gotten him when he was just a little kitten after all, back when he still lived in England.
Arthur winced when Crumpet angrily shrieked and swiped at Alfred, who had reached the cat and was now carefully trying to extract him. But then Alfred cheered enthusiastically and Arthur squinted to see that he had managed to grab the cat.
It was kind of impressive that Alfred managed to slowly and steadily descend the stairs again, with the cat held securely in only one arm. After all, Crumpet weighed a whopping 15 pounds and he wasn't being cooperative at all. Arthur usually ended up with either a sore shoulder or a bloody arm whenever he had to pick the cat up against his will.
Arthur released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding when Alfred jumped off the truck and headed back over him.
"Aren't you a pretty, big bastard- ouch!" He heard Alfred mutter indignantly as Crumpet hissed. "Okay, okay, calm down."
Arthur resisted the urge to smirk when Alfred came to a halt in front of him, holding out the cat with a slight frown. Crumpet uncharacteristically leaped into Arthur's waiting arms, pressing his furry body close while keeping a watchful eye on the firefighter that just rescued him.
"Feisty, ain't he?" Alfred huffed as he rubbed at the scratch Crumpet managed to leave on the bare skin above his reasonably thick and long gloves.
Overcome with the relief of having his cat back in his arms, and endeared with how Crumpet exaggeratedly rubbed against him, he felt the need to come to his cat's defense.
"Well, you did manhandle him out of an exceptionally high tree. One can't blame him for being frightened."
Alfred raised his eyebrows in surprise then, the twitch of his lips betraying his amusement, and Arthur bit his cheeks and willed himself not to blush.
"Haha, you're adorable when you frown like that." The fireman then said and the immediate shift of his facial expression betrayed that he had not meant to say it out loud.
But that didn't matter, because Arthur had heard and thus the damage had been done. "I beg your pardon?"
"Uh, it's just, your eyebrows, they're kinda fuzzy and - wait, I mean - uh," The fireman stumbled over his words, and Arthur only felt himself getting more and more annoyed.
Why was it always the stupidly hot men that were also, well, stupid?
Arthur schooled his face into the unimpressed and slightly disappointed look he would give his students when they were being difficult.
"Quite." He interrupted with a bit of a sneer. "Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Jones."
Alfred's lips twisted into a wry and slightly embarrassed smile that did a funny thing to his stomach, but Arthur refused to be stunned by the man's hotness again.
"All right then. Give us a call should Mister Grumpy here find himself up a tree again."
Alfred reached out towards Crumpet and Arthur couldn't help but smirk when the cat hissed and swiped at the intruding hand, causing Alfred to hastily lean back again.
"That will not be necessary. Good day, then."
It almost seemed as if Alfred hesitated, but then the man chuckled and gave him a two-fingered salute, before turning around and heading back to the firetruck.
It gave Arthur the perfect opportunity to secretly ogle the man's behind as he effortlessly climbed back into the truck. When the firefighter turned to swing the door closed, their eyes met once more, and Arthur felt his face flush at being caught staring.
Instead of waiting to see how the man would react, he quickly turned around and reentered his apartment building.
The door swung shut with a dull sound and he glared down at the cat in his arms.
"This is all your fault."
Crumpet purred obnoxiously and jumped out of his arms, daintily climbing up the one flight of stairs towards his still open apartment door.
He followed the cat with a sigh, entering his own apartment and shutting the door once he saw the large cat stretching and rolling around on the couch. He locked the balcony door then too, knowing he'd have to fix the nets but wanting a cup of tea first.
In the kitchen he was quickly joined by Crumpet, who loudly begged for some treats and rubbed against his legs as if nothing out of the ordinary happened that day.
And while Arthur felt the cat should actually be reprimanded for his little adventure, he couldn't help but crouch down and run his fingers through the cat's plush fur.
"That was scary, wasn't it?" He mumbled affectionately, allowing Crumpet to butt his face into his palm. "But at least you were saved by bloody Superman himself."
He gave the cat some treats and when he inevitably had to pick up the vacuum cleaner again, Crumpet smartly hid on top of the wardrobe this time.
It took Arthur a while to figure out what he wanted to do in life.
He had a rather uneventful youth, followed by a rebellious teen phase. When he graduated, he realized he had never properly sat down to think about his future.
For some reason, even though Arthur came from a family that was well-off and even though he was nowhere near depressed, he had always thought he would somehow never make it this far.
He almost resigned to changing his part-time job at the library to a full-time job, when his older brothers started having children. As Arthur was the only nearby relative with a lot of time to spare, he was often manipulated into babysitting them.
Unexpectedly, it turned out that he loved it. Taking care of his niblings, teaching them how to walk, talk and read: everything came to him quite naturally.
By the time they became the irritating and rebellious toddlers Arthur inspired them to be, he'd enrolled in a college and pursued a career as an elementary school teacher.
He graduated, and in a moment of joy, decided to come out to his family as well. Unfortunately one fight led to another, and he moved to the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.
Moving to the United States of America had been a bold and spontaneous move. But thanks to his basic grasp of several European languages, he quickly managed to snatch up a job as a kindergarten teacher at an international primary school.
And here he was.
He loved his job, but it could be tiring from time to time. The children in his class were usually 4, 5 and sometimes 6 years old, and some of them didn't have a good grasp on the English language yet. Which meant that there were moments he couldn't properly communicate with some of the kids, leading to outbursts and meltdowns.
But the children usually adored him, and he usually adored them.
He would never admit to having favorites of course, even if he had a soft spot for the occasional kid. This year, he'd grown particularly fond of the Williams twins.
Emily and Marguerite (or Meg), with their blonde hair and blue eyes, could've been plucked straight out of a Hallmark movie. Fortunately it wasn't hard to tell them apart, especially personality wise.
Emily was excitable, a little brash and a bit of a daredevil who seemed to always have a bruise or band aid on her knee. Meg was quiet, well behaved and just shy enough to be adorable instead of awkward. She was also a little dependent on the stuffed bear she carried everywhere she went, but they were working on it.
He watched with a small smile as Emily called his name and skipped over to him, her sister staying behind at her table.
"Yes, Emily?"
"Daddy can't pick us up today, but uncle Al will. But he asked us to tell you he could be a little late." Emily said with a wide and toothy grin.
Ah, the illustrious 'Uncle Al'. Emily was particularly enamored with this uncle of hers, who was apparently somewhat of a hero, though Arthur doubted the stories Emily spun held much truth in them.
Their father had of course already mentioned their uncle picking them up when he dropped the girls off this morning, and Arthur couldn't help but admit he was a little curious to meet the man who inspired Emily's 'heroic' attempts to stand up to bullies thrice her size.
"That'll be fine, dear. You two can help clean up the classroom, then."
"Awww, boo!" She pouted but went back to her table regardless, sitting on her knees and swaying back and forth as she continued the drawing she was working on.
Arthur got up and did a round to check on every kid. It was nearly time for recess and to keep them from getting distracted, he had given them the task of drawing their favorite animal. Most of them drew cats and dogs, though Lovino seemed to be drawing a tomato.
Meg was poking out her tongue and eyeing the stuffed bear next to her critically, trying to recreate his image on the paper.
"That's a very good portrait of Kumajirou, Meg." He praised, smiling when Meg quickly hid the drawing with her arms.
"It's not done yet Arthur! Don't look."
"All right, don't mind me." He apologized, quickly heading over to admire Feliciano's collage of cats, though they looked more like little circles with triangles on top of them.
At the end of the day, he allowed the twins to play instead of cleaning up. While Meg honestly tried to help him at first, Emily was distracted every other minute and inevitably dragged her sister down with her, so Arthur figured he would be quicker on his own after all.
They were playing quietly when he heard the hallway doors open and shut. Knowing that meant the girls' uncle was here to pick them up, he straightened from collecting any wayward papers and pencils.
"Arrr, where are my little pirates?" A voice drawled loudly and the girls squealed with delight when a man jumped out from behind the corner, entering the room.
Arthur froze instantly when he saw the insanely hot firefighter that rescued his cat a few days earlier. Even though he was dressed casually now (with a bomber jacket he wore exceptionally well), he still recognized him immediately.
The man's - Alfred, if Arthur remembered correctly - eyes briefly swept from his nieces to him and then did a double take as surprised recognition dawned on his face.
Then Emily barreled into her uncle with all the force of an overly excited five-year old, and her uncle, who was caught off guard, nearly toppled over. Alfred wheezed and stumbled back, only just managing to keep upright.
Emily immediately started talking a mile a minute, successfully drawing her uncle's attention, and Arthur grabbed the brief moment of respite to hastily recollect himself.
Suddenly Emily's wild tales about her uncle saving damsels from distress and babies from burning buildings made a lot more sense.
"Emmy, we got all afternoon to talk about how you sucker punched that Italian's sorry ass." Alfred said with a snort, making Emily giggle.
Arthur frowned with slight disapproval: while it was true that Lovino was hot-tempered and a little ill-mannered, he'd never resorted to physical bullying, unlike Emily who punched him right in the stomach after Lovino called her 'a stupid baby'.
"Go help Meggie collect her stuff, yeah?"
Oh dear. If Alfred meant to distract Emily, that meant...
"So you're the infamous Arthur that keeps stealing my thunder."
Arthur turned to face Alfred properly, appraising him with a carefully crafted neutral expression. "Your thunder, Mr. Jones?"
Alfred grinned wryly, apparently pleased that Arthur remembered who he was as well. Arthur felt his cheeks were burning slightly, and he willed his expression to remain neutral.
"Yeah. Ever since they started the year here, it's been Arthur this, Arthur that, and so on."
Arthur tilted his head towards the twins, secretly endeared that they appeared to like him that much. "I'm afraid they give me too much credit."
"Ha! Well, you've set a high bar." Alfred said with a wink. "How is Grumpy, anyway?"
"His name is Crumpet." Arthur said testily, and aware of it.
"Grumpy, crumpy." Alfred said indifferently. "Meanest cat I've ever encountered."
Arthur frowned and refused to dignify that with an answer, recalling how Crumpet had been adorably attached to his lap the entire day after.
Emily crashed back into Alfred's legs then, but this time Alfred hardly moved an inch. "Hey nugget, remember I told you about that cat I saved?"
Oh, of course. The brat.
"Yeah! You said it was cute and fat!"
Arthur released a long-suffering sigh, but it went ignored.
"Didya know it was actually Arthur's cat?"
Emily gasped with wide eyes, looking back at Arthur for confirmation. Meg quietly appeared behind him, tugging at the back of his shirt. Thanks to years of experience, Arthur managed not to startle.
"You have a cat, Arthur? Can you bring it to class one day?" Meg asked softly, while her sister loudly agreed.
Arthur resisted the urge to glare at Alfred, and instead smiled down at the girls. "I'm afraid Crumpet is a bit of a homebody, but I'll show a video of him tomorrow in class."
"Aw, now I wanna see the video too." Alfred said with a bit of a whine.
Arthur ignored him. "Go get your coats girls, I'm sure your uncle is anxious to leave."
"Nah, not really."
Arthur did glare at him then. The girls thankfully listened to him and Alfred grinned at him playfully.
"I, uh, I know I was being kinda rude the other day, so how about we start over? I'll go first," He held out his hand. "Hello! I'm Alfred Jones, Emily's and Meg's uncle."
Well, it wasn't quite an apology, but it was as good as any. Arthur rolled his eyes but allowed his lips to form a small smile.
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Jones. I've heard a lot about you." He said as he shook his hand, and Alfred's eyes narrowed with mock suspicion.
"Good things only, I hope."
"Kids these days are brutally honest."
"Yikes." Alfred said with a huff of laughter, smiling cheekily. Like the weekend before, Arthur felt his stomach do a funny little twirl.
Then he realized their hands were still locked, and he hastily retracted his own, shifting the papers and pens he was holding from one hand to the other. "But I suppose trouble runs in the family."
Alfred laughed earnestly then, eyes crinkling at the corners with delight. "I see why they like you. Anyway, thanks for keeping them after class for a little while."
"It wasn't a problem. Have a good day now, Mr. Jones." Arthur said, hoping that Alfred would understand that the words and him turning back to his desk was meant to be dismissive.
"Call me Alfred, please, I'm already having a quarterlife crisis as it is." Alfred quickly countered, and Arthur could hear he hadn't moved from his spot yet.
Walking around to stand behind his desk, Arthur looked back up at him, raising his eyebrows in lieu of asking if Alfred needed anything else from him. The man looked a little thoughtful, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that reminded Arthur terribly of one Emily Williams when she wanted to cause trouble.
"I thought it was the baggy clothes at first..." Alfred said then, and Arthur frowned, looking down at his attire. He wasn't wearing anything baggy at all. "Nope. It's still adorable when you frown."
He felt his face flush when he realized what Alfred was referring to, and was reminded why he had been annoyed with the man before.
"Please refrain from flirting with me in the presence of my students." Arthur snapped back with a bit of a sneer.
Alfred looked over his shoulder. Emily and Meg were loudly chatting in the hallway, not paying them the slightest bit of attention. "They seem pretty occupied to me."
"Goodbye, Mr. Jones."
Alfred laughed and walked backwards, smiling cheekily at him right up until he had to turn around and collect the girls. All three of them said their goodbyes once more and then Alfred chased them through the hallway, the girls' giggles echoing until the hallway doors shut behind them.
Arthur groaned and sat down in his chair. He slumped forward on the desk and finally allowed himself to be properly embarrassed about the fact that the ridiculously attractive firefighter he may or may not have fantasized about once or twice, was also the relative of two of the children in his class.
He desperately hoped Mr. Williams would not be needing his brother to pick them up anytime soon, again.