Archive of Our Own ^beta

A black Rolls Royce pulled up to the side of the building, tinted windows blocking sticky-beaked pedestrians from prying. Dark clouds circled overhead like vultures awaiting their next meal. The wind chased loiterers into their homes as streetlights flicked on one by one, their yellow glow illuminating strips on the quickly darkening streets.

Window blinds flickered open and shut from the floors above, observing. The blinds fluttered open a couple of times like a coy bat of eyelashes, beckoning.

A man exited the vehicle, holding the door slightly ajar as quick cobalt blue eyes darted across the streets, surveying. Square glasses accentuated his boyish appearance, but his expression remained hardened. The wind caressed his golden blond hair and pulled at his crisp black suit as he checked the area once again. He nodded to occupants in the vehicle before another man stepped out.

He rose to his full height yet stood shorter than the man blond before him. The wind took hold of his sandy blond hair, messing with his already tousled locks. His piercing absinthe green eyes glanced up at the man accompanying him. Concern marred the bespectacled man’s sharp features.

 'What’s the matter, dear?' the shorter man queried.

 'Arthur, we could’ve left this to Mattie,' he ran a hand through his windswept hair, the beginnings of a pout threatening to form on his face, 'It was his informant.'

 'He can take care of the riff-raff, Alfred.' Arthur turned back to the car, dismissive. The taller tapped on the roof of the vehicle, signalling it. The car left, taking the three remaining occupants with it. 'We’ve got to nip the problem in the bud, correct?'

 'Yes, Boss.'

Adjusting the cuff links of his well-fitting chestnut brown suit, he began walking towards the entrance, his guard following behind him, never more than two paces behind.

The first drop of rain hit the pavement as they entered the building.

 'Ah! You must be Kirkland, nice to meetcha'.' greeted a tall, spindly man.

 'The pleasure’s all mine,' Arthur responded, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. 'Grenouille, I assume.'

 'You know it,' Grenouille said crookedly. 'Come, let’s talk inside.'

Dust was shaken off the door frames as they walked down the wooden hall. The pair was led into a drawing room. Despite the brewing storm outside, the room remained lit. Grenouille strode to the liquor table, pouring himself a glass, fingers tapping its edge.

 'A drink?' he offered, raising his glass towards Arthur.

 'No, thank you,' he spoke with a sigh. 'I’ve been managing my drinking as of late.' Alfred offered a small smile behind him. Grenouille gave him a shrug, sipping at the amber beverage as he moved to lean against the central table.

 'May I?' Arthur gestured towards the armchair. Street lights lit the olive seat through partially opened blinds, the window framed by blood red drapes.

 'Of course.'

Alfred took the seat first, puzzling the host whilst shooting him a sly grin. Arthur sat across his lap, legs falling over the side of the armrest. He shifted comfortably against Alfred as he pulled out a smoke from within his jacket. The silence was deafening—until it was interrupted by the dull sound of the lighter sparking.

Arthur took a long drag, exhaling towards the standing man, 'A little birdie told me that your firm is expanding quite quickly.'

Alfred snickered beneath him.

 'Looking for protection?'

 'I’m here on–' he paused, rolling the cigarette between his fingers– 'other business,' Arthur redirected. Alfred snuggled close, hand cradling Arthur as he leant down to nibble on his neck.

 'You’ve been left unchecked for an embarrassingly long time.' Arthur remained the image of professionalism as Alfred continued his ministrations. 'I would have thought the frog might have kept a closer eye on the workings of his men but what did I expect?'

 'Hey, I don’t work for nobody no more.'

 'Clearly,' Arthur sighed. He took another drag. 'Civilians aren’t meant to get caught in the crossfire.'

Grenouille set the glass down.

 'Not my problem.'

 'Unfortunately, I believe you and I are in disagreement,' his tone hardened. The stale air thickened with each passing breath.

 'Yanno, they warned me about you,' Grenouille started, a sneer forming on his lips. 'Said you’re some "judge, jury, executioner" type with a leash on the Hounds of Hell.' He chuckled to himself, casting a smug eye towards Arthur. 'But cha ain’t that bad. Just a prick with a bark bigger than your balls and a pup for a guard dog,' he sneered moving closer looking down his nose mockingly. 'Tell me, mutt, is your master a good lay?'

The golden blond growled at him, the sound rumbling deep from the back of his throat. His grip tightened around Arthur’s arm, pulling him closer. His nails digging into the familiar fabric. His nose scrunched, as he bared his teeth ready to rip into the other man if he dared to continue.

 'Alfred. That’s enough.'

Tension weighed on a knife’s edge waiting for either party to tip the balance.

Arthur let a smile slip onto his face, 'It seems that my reputation precedes me.' He sent a plume of smoke in Grenouille’s direction, lacing it with a smug and poisonous glare. 'Though you may not want to play with dogs that bite.'

Thundering footsteps and gunshots rang through the house as sounds of the commotion echoed throughout the room.

 'What the fuck!?' Grenouille whipped around, eyes wide like a cornered animal. 'You!' he screeched at Arthur.

 'What kind of dog doesn’t travel with its pack?' Alfred mumbled into Arthur’s neck as he drew his gun from beneath his jacket, muzzle trained on Grenouille as he fumbled for his own weapon.

 'Woof,' Arthur mocked as he slid off of Alfred’s lap, pulling his own weapon from his shoulder holster, the cool metal comfortable in his hands. He dropped the half-finished cigarette into the carpet, grinding it into the fibres with the sole of his shoe. Alfred followed suit and took his position behind Arthur, critical eyes watching the exits.

From outside the room, a body came barrelling into Alfred as Arthur disarmed the fumbling Grenouille. He knocked the weapon out of his hand and forced him to the ground. Grenouille kicked at Arthur’s feet, forcing him to lose his balance slightly as he crawled for his gun. Alfred wrangled with his assailant while he was pinned to the wall, her sharp shoulder digging into his ribcage as he brought his arms up to slam his elbows into her back, causing her to let go. She drew her gun and prepared to fire, only to be thwarted as he slammed his fist into her face.

Alfred kicked the attacker’s knee, causing her to fumble. He grabbed onto her hands and twisted around, coming down on his knees and turning the gun in her grasp upside down. He fired, burying a bullet into her skull. Her brains splattered against the clean walls as blood spilt from her head, mixing with the carpet and dying it a bloody crimson. A drop ricocheted onto his face, adding a splash of colour across his cheek. He snatched the gun from her grasp as she crumpled, whipping around to train his sight on Grenouille.

Arthur felt the grip of a sweaty palm take a hold of his wrist, yanking him back until his back hit the assailant’s chest. The wind was knocked out of him as he felt the cool barrel of a gun pushed against his head, the muzzle resting at his temple. The other arm wedged beneath his throat. 

 'D-don't move,' Grenouille spluttered, digging the barrel deeper into Arthur’s skull.

Alfred’s thoughts ran into overdrive, frantically flipping through his options as he found himself trapped in a stalemate.

 'Don’t move! Or I’ll blow his brains out!' Grenouille’s rash words spilled out of his thin mouth in gallons. The man looked frenzied, long fingers tight around the gun, quivering.

Alfred cursed under his breath, gun still trained on Grenouille, face hardened, refusing to back down. His expression remained stoic, his eyes wildly darting between Grenouille, the gun, and Arthur. His heart seized in his chest as he wrangled with what to do.

Grenouille pulled Arthur closer, jostling him around as he sprouted desperate demands.

Arthur knows what he’s doing. He’s going to be okay.

Alfred repeated it like a mantra, over and over. He tried to hang on to the loose threads of his mind as they slipped from his grasp, dropping him deeper into the clutches of fear.

Grenouille’s finger danced on the trigger as perspiration dripped down his brow. Nobody moved. Alfred took a tentative step forwards, praying that he would get to Arthur in time.

Grenouille squeezed. The gun fired.

Arthur knocked the muzzle away from his head as the bullet punctured the ceiling. He brought his other arm to hook around Grenouille’s, throwing him to the ground, disarming him. He turned the gun in his hand before lining it up and firing a single shot between the bastard’s widened eyes. His frozen features locked in surprise forced a dry chuckle from Arthur’s lips. Serves him right for underestimating me. 

Arthur brushed off his jacket and straightened his tie as Alfred emptied another round into Grenouille for good measure. Corpses sprinkled the red-caked room.

The sound of gunfire fizzled out through the house, leaving only laboured pants. Alfred reached over to grasp at Arthur’s sleeve, pulling the fabric taut and its wearer with it. Their bodies collided with one another. Alfred wrapped his arms around the shorter blond in a bone-crushing embrace. 

A man almost identical to Alfred rushed into the room, weapon at the ready. His hair was longer, framing his face and his strong mauve eyes. Both blonds raised their weapons, still locked in an embrace. Arthur felt the arm around him tighten, pulling him impossibly closer. The golden blond relaxed as he recognised the newcomer. Arthur gave the man a nod before they lowered their weapons.

 'The composters are on their way,' the newcomer informed. 'I’ll take it from here.'

 'Thank you, Matthew.'

They left the building the same way they came, rushing out to avoid getting soaked by the passing storm. The Rolls Royce sat idle in front of the building, the door popping open as they approached.

Arthur slipped into the back seat, acknowledging the two women in the front seat before being followed by Alfred. The divider was pulled shut as the car immediately started down the desolate road.

He barely had any time to rest his head against the other’s shoulder before Alfred was on top of him. His thoughts of a restful drive home interrupted by the overeager guard.

Frantic hands fumbled with his buttons, pulling and tugging at the cloth and slipping his shirt off his shoulders. Calloused fingers brushed across his exposed skin sending shivers down his spine, darting from place to place with vicious movements.

 'Now really isn’t the time Al—' he murmured, taking a hold of Alfred’s wrists in an attempt to slow things down. The hands broke out of his grasp as they kept running across his skin, frantic. Searching.

Mapping every valley, nook and cranny of his body.

Never lingering on the same patch of skin for longer than a moment.

Searching.

Searching, searching, searching.

Oh.

He wrapped his arm around the other’s neck, causing his actions to stop, and he pulled Alfred to his chest. The heavy thump of Arthur’s heart rested beneath his ear, the rhythm steady.

 'Hey, hey. Sssh,' he whispered. His voice nearly drowned out by the sound of heavy breathing, the drums beating in his ears, and the soft patter of rain against the roof. 'I’m okay,' 

He repeated those words into the other’s hair, carding his fingers through it lightly. With care, he grasped the bespectacled blond’s chin, pulling him closer with bated breath. Green eyes met blue in a comforting silence before they leant in, slowly sharing a chaste kiss, the pressure of their lips lingering as they pulled apart.

Arthur let a small smile grace his features, still holding Alfred close enough that their lips brushed when he spoke—

'I’m okay.'