SUPERSTAR AU

lasergunsandlassos:

thatgentlemanhasclass:

lasergunsandlassos:

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Alfred said looking at his shoes, normally he would have shook his hand but that seemed like a pretty silly thing to do after he had already like, saved his life or whatever. It was pretty impossible to believe that had happened still. “That was pretty good, out there- I’m sorry but are you sure you’re the same person?” Alfred asked mid-sentence. It would be a pretty elaborate prank, but he did seem to be actually injured.  

“Thank you, and yes, I’m…quite sure I’m the one who got shot in your store,” Arthur answered with a wince. Another awkwardly pregnant silence fell between them, and was Arthur terrible at small talk. “Thanks again for you know…stepping in like that…” he almost muttered, taking interest in the floor. “And…thanks for showing up for the show. Honestly I thought you weren’t going to show up at all.” His ears tinged a deep red, “I mean, not that I was expecting you to show up in the first place. You didn’t seem like the type-“

“I really just came to see you again,” Alfred said without thinking. Pausing with his mouth open he re-winded what he just said in his head and blushed, “I just meant that I wanted to know who you are, I mean- for sure. I don’t know.” Wow nice going Jones, way to be awkward. “I’m probably not making a lot of sense here,” Alfred said with his signature dorky smile. “I also wanted to make sure you were okay,” he continued with a shrug. By this point he knew he was babbling and he just couldn’t stop for the life of him.

Arthur stiffened, ears getting hot as he mumbled another thanks, before Gilbert shouted over to bring the new guy over for a couple of drinks. “He was on the news, right?” Quickly, dragging a hands across his face, Arthur turned back to Alfred. “I hope you wouldn’t mind?” he asked hopefully, subconsciously taking Alfred by the arm and lightly pulling him in the direction of the parking lot. 

Give the most inaccurate description of me you can think of.

(Source: actuallordganondorf)

SUPERSTAR AU

lasergunsandlassos:

thatgentlemanhasclass:

lasergunsandlassos:

Oh hearing his name he spun around confused, looking for the the guy from the store. It had sounded exactly like him, but he couldn’t find him anywhere. Looking around again, he was startled to see one of the band members walking up to him. Oh shit did someone not tell them that he was coming or- wait a second how did he know his name? 

Oh no.

Nope. 

“Hi, uh- You still never told me your name,” Alfred said rubbing the back of his head with a blush. How stupid did he look now? Very. Hey though, who knew? Maybe whatever name he was famous under was just like a pen name thing. A psudo-something or another. 

There was a confused look on his face as he adjusted the ice pack on his side, giving a slight smile, “It was all over the news, surely you must-” Arthur stopped mid-sentence when he realized Alfred was absolutely serious. He looked down, embarrassed, before looking up to make eye contact again. 

“It’s Arthur Kirkland,” he answered, letting a meek smile once again trail on his face. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Alfred said looking at his shoes, normally he would have shook his hand but that seemed like a pretty silly thing to do after he had already like, saved his life or whatever. It was pretty impossible to believe that had happened still. “That was pretty good, out there- I’m sorry but are you sure you’re the same person?” Alfred asked mid-sentence. It would be a pretty elaborate prank, but he did seem to be actually injured.  

“Thank you, and yes, I’m…quite sure I’m the one who got shot in your store,” Arthur answered with a wince. Another awkwardly pregnant silence fell between them, and was Arthur terrible at small talk. “Thanks again for you know…stepping in like that…” he almost muttered, taking interest in the floor. “And…thanks for showing up for the show. Honestly I thought you weren’t going to show up at all.” His ears tinged a deep red, “I mean, not that I was expecting you to show up in the first place. You didn’t seem like the type-“

SUPERSTAR AU

lasergunsandlassos:

thatgentlemanhasclass:

lasergunsandlassos:

Looking back on this later, this would be the moment where he finally started figuring it out. He just stood there wondering what had just happened, as he stared numbly at the tickets in his hand. Who just handed out backstage passes to things like this? Like he had to be some kind of heir or- Alfred’s thought process was interrupted by the arrival of his family. Which, all in all went better than he had expected. Mom wasn’t too mad, and Dad actually seemed kind of proud. The next few days flew by, and people had started calling him a hero, but felt the opposite of what he always dreamed it would feel like as a child. Apparently the guy he saved was a member of a bigshot band, and had tons of fans. Which Alfred didn’t quite believe, they guy he met seemed pretty down to earth, and just a little cocky. He wouldn’t believe it until he saw it. When the time for the concert came, Alfred had given the other ticket to Matthew, but he kept both the backstage passes. The twins had this unspoken agreement that they would split up the minute they got there and do their own thing. Matthew was only really going to satisfy their mom’s conditions that he was accompanied by ‘someone responsible’.

When the time came for the actual concert, Alfred was less than prepared. He was sure that he looked as out of place as he felt, and he found it pretty hard to actually focus on the music with everything that was going on around him. There was just so much going on. What Alfred really noticed was way the band looked on stage, like they were born to be there. It just assured him further that the hot Brit guy running for tea was not the same guy onstage now with styled up hair. There were similarities, sure, but not enough, maybe his Brit was this guy’s brother or something? Siblings sometimes accompanied bands around right? Still, the guys on stage were all both pretty hot. Alfred was getting nervous, by the time the last song played and was more than ready to find the idiot who hadn’t told him his name. How much trouble did he have to go through just to talk to him? 

Getting backstage wasn’t hard for Alfred, with his passes, but it was almost impossible for him to find anyone who wasn’t busy to figure out where he was supposed to be. 

Arthur walked off stage, exchanging his bass for an ice pack with someone from stage crew, as he breathed a sigh of relief. Even though he hardly moved through the entire concert, he was still glazed with sweat from the mere heat of the lights. Gilbert and Mathias were a different story, completely drenched as they were handed bottles of water in exchange for their own gear. The three of them exchanged conversation, before Arthur made some excuse to get away and lie down, which made his band mates make weird and concerned looks before letting him go, continuing their own conversation over some powdered doughnuts laid out on a concession table. 

With a quick look over his shoulder, Arthur broke into a lookout mode, scanning the backstage crowd for Alfred. He the back of his mind knew that the American wouldn’t show up, but he wanted to try and look. Something was making him want to be in the man’s presence for a very long time. 

Just when he was about to give up, he saw him, looking rather clueless as he wandered through the busy stage crew. He was about to break into a quick jog, until his side and the urge not to look like an absolute idiot held him back. Instead he slowly made his way to close the distance between him before calling out, “Alfred!”

Oh hearing his name he spun around confused, looking for the the guy from the store. It had sounded exactly like him, but he couldn’t find him anywhere. Looking around again, he was startled to see one of the band members walking up to him. Oh shit did someone not tell them that he was coming or- wait a second how did he know his name? 

Oh no.

Nope. 

“Hi, uh- You still never told me your name,” Alfred said rubbing the back of his head with a blush. How stupid did he look now? Very. Hey though, who knew? Maybe whatever name he was famous under was just like a pen name thing. A psudo-something or another. 

There was a confused look on his face as he adjusted the ice pack on his side, giving a slight smile, “It was all over the news, surely you must-” Arthur stopped mid-sentence when he realized Alfred was absolutely serious. He looked down, embarrassed, before looking up to make eye contact again. 

“It’s Arthur Kirkland,” he answered, letting a meek smile once again trail on his face. 

torulethewaves:

thatgentlemanhasclass replied:

Isn’t that how you’re supposed cook it?

Not for fish, I think. Fish is supposed to flake when it’s done.

Don’t tell me I’ve been doing it wrong this entire time. 

(Source: kids-ihaveastory)

SUPERSTAR AU

lasergunsandlassos:

thatgentlemanhasclass:

lasergunsandlassos:

Alfred’s face lit up when he saw the English man, he was already up walking around so he must have not gotten hurt very bad. Which was good, Alfred wouldn’t have been able to shake the feeling that maybe the robber wouldn’t have shot anyone if he hadn’t jumped on him. Then again, there was no telling what would have happened. “So-” Alfred began, before stopping. What do you say in this sort of situation? “You’re not dead,” he said looking him over. The hat was gone, and his clothes were different. Maybe his parents had come and brought him clothes? “I’m sorry but you still look really familiar.”

“Yeah, I’m not dead,” Arthur said with an underlying laugh, ignoring his familiarity comment. “Thanks to you at least,” he added, resting a hand where they had patched him up, while reaching for something in his back pocket with the other. “Which is why I wanted to give you this, you know, for saving my life and everything,” explained Arthur as he handed Alfred a pair of concert tickets and backstage passes. “It’s the best I can do…for now at least. You don’t even have to go to our concert, it’ll get you into anyone playing at the venue not too far from here,” he trailed off awkwardly into a silence, looking everywhere but Alfred until he was called to follow back to the tour bus, giving a small good-bye to the American before he left down the hallway. 

Looking back on this later, this would be the moment where he finally started figuring it out. He just stood there wondering what had just happened, as he stared numbly at the tickets in his hand. Who just handed out backstage passes to things like this? Like he had to be some kind of heir or- Alfred’s thought process was interrupted by the arrival of his family. Which, all in all went better than he had expected. Mom wasn’t too mad, and Dad actually seemed kind of proud. The next few days flew by, and people had started calling him a hero, but felt the opposite of what he always dreamed it would feel like as a child. Apparently the guy he saved was a member of a bigshot band, and had tons of fans. Which Alfred didn’t quite believe, they guy he met seemed pretty down to earth, and just a little cocky. He wouldn’t believe it until he saw it. When the time for the concert came, Alfred had given the other ticket to Matthew, but he kept both the backstage passes. The twins had this unspoken agreement that they would split up the minute they got there and do their own thing. Matthew was only really going to satisfy their mom’s conditions that he was accompanied by ‘someone responsible’.

When the time came for the actual concert, Alfred was less than prepared. He was sure that he looked as out of place as he felt, and he found it pretty hard to actually focus on the music with everything that was going on around him. There was just so much going on. What Alfred really noticed was way the band looked on stage, like they were born to be there. It just assured him further that the hot Brit guy running for tea was not the same guy onstage now with styled up hair. There were similarities, sure, but not enough, maybe his Brit was this guy’s brother or something? Siblings sometimes accompanied bands around right? Still, the guys on stage were all both pretty hot. Alfred was getting nervous, by the time the last song played and was more than ready to find the idiot who hadn’t told him his name. How much trouble did he have to go through just to talk to him? 

Getting backstage wasn’t hard for Alfred, with his passes, but it was almost impossible for him to find anyone who wasn’t busy to figure out where he was supposed to be. 

Arthur walked off stage, exchanging his bass for an ice pack with someone from stage crew, as he breathed a sigh of relief. Even though he hardly moved through the entire concert, he was still glazed with sweat from the mere heat of the lights. Gilbert and Mathias were a different story, completely drenched as they were handed bottles of water in exchange for their own gear. The three of them exchanged conversation, before Arthur made some excuse to get away and lie down, which made his band mates make weird and concerned looks before letting him go, continuing their own conversation over some powdered doughnuts laid out on a concession table. 

With a quick look over his shoulder, Arthur broke into a lookout mode, scanning the backstage crowd for Alfred. He the back of his mind knew that the American wouldn’t show up, but he wanted to try and look. Something was making him want to be in the man’s presence for a very long time. 

Just when he was about to give up, he saw him, looking rather clueless as he wandered through the busy stage crew. He was about to break into a quick jog, until his side and the urge not to look like an absolute idiot held him back. Instead he slowly made his way to close the distance between him before calling out, “Alfred!”

SUPERSTAR AU

lasergunsandlassos:

thatgentlemanhasclass:

lasergunsandlassos:

Laughing as the guy slurred some words together and passed out, Alfred leaned his head against the cold metal of the door and tried to think over what had just happened. In a way, he was glad that he had taken Matthew’s shift. Who knows what would have happened if his brother had been there instead of him? That brought him around to what his parents were gunna say, he could almost hear mom going on about how stupid that was and how he could have died. The ambulance came to a stop suddenly and Alfred’s head thwacked against the door, then everyone inside was rushing around again. He was helped out of the ambulance and led away from the the vehicle before he was ushered into a small hospital examination room. The bruising was pretty bad around his neck, but there was nothing they could do for his voice aside from recommending that he drank cold liquids until the swelling went down and if the problem persisted he was supposed to call a doctor about it. As soon as he was cleared he set about figuring out where they had taken the british guy, and he had to charm his way through about five nurses before he found out where he was. 

When Arthur came to, he was in recovery, the pain in his side reduced to a dull ache, which he figured was due to the IV feeding into the crook of his elbow. Immediately, he was faced with his manager, who was a combination of angry and relieved, making him promise that he would play at the show the next night, even if it meant not doing any stage stunts. The English native agreed with a tired roll of the eyes, then met with the doctor who had patched him up, who said how lucky he was to survive with a relative scratch and that he should take the next few days off from any extreme physical activity. He knew his manager would hardly listen to that, and so Arthur held an indifference to the advice. 

They were about to leave when Arthur remembered the shopkeep…Alfred. There had to be a way to repay him, and though he might not find him in the hospital, he could always try to track him down when he returned to the bus. He put on the fresh clothes his manager brought, and was ready to head out when he spotted the American wandering down the hallway. 

Alfred’s face lit up when he saw the English man, he was already up walking around so he must have not gotten hurt very bad. Which was good, Alfred wouldn’t have been able to shake the feeling that maybe the robber wouldn’t have shot anyone if he hadn’t jumped on him. Then again, there was no telling what would have happened. “So-” Alfred began, before stopping. What do you say in this sort of situation? “You’re not dead,” he said looking him over. The hat was gone, and his clothes were different. Maybe his parents had come and brought him clothes? “I’m sorry but you still look really familiar.”

“Yeah, I’m not dead,” Arthur said with an underlying laugh, ignoring his familiarity comment. “Thanks to you at least,” he added, resting a hand where they had patched him up, while reaching for something in his back pocket with the other. “Which is why I wanted to give you this, you know, for saving my life and everything,” explained Arthur as he handed Alfred a pair of concert tickets and backstage passes. “It’s the best I can do…for now at least. You don’t even have to go to our concert, it’ll get you into anyone playing at the venue not too far from here,” he trailed off awkwardly into a silence, looking everywhere but Alfred until he was called to follow back to the tour bus, giving a small good-bye to the American before he left down the hallway. 

SUPERSTAR AU

lasergunsandlassos:

thatgentlemanhasclass:

lasergunsandlassos:

thatgentlemanhasclass:

“Do I look okay?” Arthur strained through his teeth, clutching his side tighter. “I think I just got bloody shot and you’re going to ask names like we’re…at some sort of dinner affair?” he gasped for air as he finished his scolding, swearing some more as he heard sirens nearing. If this got any sort of press he would never hear the end of it. 

“No. Shit you don’t look okay, but if you pass out from blood loss I would have to tell the docs who you were,” Alfred said reaching forward to press against the man’s wound. Shit. He wasn’t a first responder or anything but he had read Matthew’s book a few times and it said to keep pressure on the wound, right? You were supposed to be wearing gloves and all sorts of shit to but he didn’t have those kinds of luxuries. “I swear America’s not always like this,” he said as the cops started coming in, Alfred had to start explaining everything fast as the guns were point first at them. He explained most of the attack before his voice failed and the paramedics demanded that they treat him. It was like a three ring circus and it only got worse when the news vans arrived. They were just a small town outside DC, but they still had two news networks and the street outside the shop was chaos. He dreaded facing his mom after this. She would be so pissed. He was grateful to be swept inside the ambulance that they were putting the British guy in, and relished in the quite inside as the doors were shut and it started to move. “I still didn’t get your name,” he said sleeply, “M’ Alfred F Jones.” 

The next few minutes were a rush, and overwhelming at that. Arthur protested at being carried into an ambulance, claiming his wound really wasn’t that bad, but almost fell over when he tried to move on his own and was carried anyway, the paramedics saying something about shock. Once loaded into the vehicle and the adrenaline finished it’s course, the entire thing started blurring together. One moment a paramedic was getting his information from the ID in his wallet and asking simple questions, then the next it was the shopkeep, introducing himself as Alfred and then asking for his name yet again. It was a humiliating moment, Arthur trying to speak his own name for a (now that he had gotten a proper look at him) rather attractive young man who very well just saved his life, with his favorite jumper absolutely ruined. He must have made some sort of incoherent answer, because he heard his own voice, yet sound and color was all melting together before he finally blacked out completely. 

Laughing as the guy slurred some words together and passed out, Alfred leaned his head against the cold metal of the door and tried to think over what had just happened. In a way, he was glad that he had taken Matthew’s shift. Who knows what would have happened if his brother had been there instead of him? That brought him around to what his parents were gunna say, he could almost hear mom going on about how stupid that was and how he could have died. The ambulance came to a stop suddenly and Alfred’s head thwacked against the door, then everyone inside was rushing around again. He was helped out of the ambulance and led away from the the vehicle before he was ushered into a small hospital examination room. The bruising was pretty bad around his neck, but there was nothing they could do for his voice aside from recommending that he drank cold liquids until the swelling went down and if the problem persisted he was supposed to call a doctor about it. As soon as he was cleared he set about figuring out where they had taken the british guy, and he had to charm his way through about five nurses before he found out where he was. 

When Arthur came to, he was in recovery, the pain in his side reduced to a dull ache, which he figured was due to the IV feeding into the crook of his elbow. Immediately, he was faced with his manager, who was a combination of angry and relieved, making him promise that he would play at the show the next night, even if it meant not doing any stage stunts. The English native agreed with a tired roll of the eyes, then met with the doctor who had patched him up, who said how lucky he was to survive with a relative scratch and that he should take the next few days off from any extreme physical activity. He knew his manager would hardly listen to that, and so Arthur held an indifference to the advice. 

They were about to leave when Arthur remembered the shopkeep…Alfred. There had to be a way to repay him, and though he might not find him in the hospital, he could always try to track him down when he returned to the bus. He put on the fresh clothes his manager brought, and was ready to head out when he spotted the American wandering down the hallway. 

SUPERSTAR AU

lasergunsandlassos:

thatgentlemanhasclass:

“Do I look okay?” Arthur strained through his teeth, clutching his side tighter. “I think I just got bloody shot and you’re going to ask names like we’re…at some sort of dinner affair?” he gasped for air as he finished his scolding, swearing some more as he heard sirens nearing. If this got any sort of press he would never hear the end of it. 

“No. Shit you don’t look okay, but if you pass out from blood loss I would have to tell the docs who you were,” Alfred said reaching forward to press against the man’s wound. Shit. He wasn’t a first responder or anything but he had read Matthew’s book a few times and it said to keep pressure on the wound, right? You were supposed to be wearing gloves and all sorts of shit to but he didn’t have those kinds of luxuries. “I swear America’s not always like this,” he said as the cops started coming in, Alfred had to start explaining everything fast as the guns were point first at them. He explained most of the attack before his voice failed and the paramedics demanded that they treat him. It was like a three ring circus and it only got worse when the news vans arrived. They were just a small town outside DC, but they still had two news networks and the street outside the shop was chaos. He dreaded facing his mom after this. She would be so pissed. He was grateful to be swept inside the ambulance that they were putting the British guy in, and relished in the quite inside as the doors were shut and it started to move. “I still didn’t get your name,” he said sleeply, “M’ Alfred F Jones.” 

The next few minutes were a rush, and overwhelming at that. Arthur protested at being carried into an ambulance, claiming his wound really wasn’t that bad, but almost fell over when he tried to move on his own and was carried anyway, the paramedics saying something about shock. Once loaded into the vehicle and the adrenaline finished it’s course, the entire thing started blurring together. One moment a paramedic was getting his information from the ID in his wallet and asking simple questions, then the next it was the shopkeep, introducing himself as Alfred and then asking for his name yet again. It was a humiliating moment, Arthur trying to speak his own name for a (now that he had gotten a proper look at him) rather attractive young man who very well just saved his life, with his favorite jumper absolutely ruined. He must have made some sort of incoherent answer, because he heard his own voice, yet sound and color was all melting together before he finally blacked out completely. 

SUPERSTAR AU

lasergunsandlassos:

thatgentlemanhasclass:

lasergunsandlassos:

thatgentlemanhasclass:

lasergunsandlassos:

Really? He was just coming by to pickup some tea? And he was English. That was all he had to go off of? Great. Wonderful. Alfred was about to concede defeat when something else through him for a lurch. He saw someone walk by the windows, someone who he recognized from the local news a few weeks ago. Apparently he had held up a bunch of convenience stores and they had been seeking any sort of information on the guy from the footage. Alfred wanted to tell Arthur to run but before he could the man entered the store. Shit shit shit shit, think Jones. The man stopped just inside the door, preventing the British guy from leaving. 

To be quite honest, all Arthur was focused on was getting back to his tour bus and proceeding to beat the living shit out of his mates for purposely dumping his tea back across the pond. He hardly took notice to the other figure entering the store until he blocked the entry way. With a firm look of disapproval, he tried to get by, asking the man to move aside, in a tone that could be taken as rather cross.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Did he really just? Alfred was frozen for a second before he launched forward at the man as he withdrew the gun from his pocket. It was stupid, he knew that, but he had to do it. Something told him to do it. Blood rushed against his ears and the only thing he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat as he tackled the man to the ground and tried to slam the gun out of his hand. As soon as the gun fell to the floor Alfred realized that he had only thought this plan halfway through, and he had no idea how he was going to restrain this guy. He certainly wasn’t going to be able to restrain him with his own strength. A hand closed around his windpipe as the robber tried to flip him over, and Alfred’s hands were too busy with the other other hand. Was the a knife in it? He wasn’t really sure. Suddenly, he remembered something from a video game when he had to used the environment as a weapon when disarmed. Letting the man sit up a bit, Alfred pushed him back down with all his weight, and cracked the robber’s head against the tiles. It worked like a charm in helping to knock out the man, or- worse, but Alfred didn’t want to think about that. Instead he just scrambled backwards away from the body, until his back hit the counter where he rang up groceries. Hands reaching up to rub at his neck, Alfred looked around for the English dude. “You okay?” he coughed shakily. 

Arthur stood wide-eyed at what had just happened before him, shaking his head to pull himself back to a bit of reality. He was about to answer that he was fine, before a nagging pain became known in his side. Hunching over to try and ease it, he put a hand to the source, pulling it back to find his fingers graced with blood. “Fuck,” he swore, trying to ease a trembling breath. It didn’t seem bad, he thought through clenched teeth, just hurts like Hell is all. 

“Oh my god, holy shit. Oh fuck, are you okay?” Alfred said forcing himself up with the help of the counter. He was still shaking, but he was strong enough to walk over to the British guy. “I don’t even know your name,” Alfred laughed hoarsely. Fuck that guy had been really close to crushing his throat. Just. Fuck. Had that all really just happened? He could hear sirens in the distance, someone must have called the cops when they heard the gunshot. 

“Do I look okay?” Arthur strained through his teeth, clutching his side tighter. “I think I just got bloody shot and you’re going to ask names like we’re…at some sort of dinner affair?” he gasped for air as he finished his scolding, swearing some more as he heard sirens nearing. If this got any sort of press he would never hear the end of it. 

SUPERSTAR AU

lasergunsandlassos:

thatgentlemanhasclass:

lasergunsandlassos:

Really? He was just coming by to pickup some tea? And he was English. That was all he had to go off of? Great. Wonderful. Alfred was about to concede defeat when something else through him for a lurch. He saw someone walk by the windows, someone who he recognized from the local news a few weeks ago. Apparently he had held up a bunch of convenience stores and they had been seeking any sort of information on the guy from the footage. Alfred wanted to tell Arthur to run but before he could the man entered the store. Shit shit shit shit, think Jones. The man stopped just inside the door, preventing the British guy from leaving. 

To be quite honest, all Arthur was focused on was getting back to his tour bus and proceeding to beat the living shit out of his mates for purposely dumping his tea back across the pond. He hardly took notice to the other figure entering the store until he blocked the entry way. With a firm look of disapproval, he tried to get by, asking the man to move aside, in a tone that could be taken as rather cross.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Did he really just? Alfred was frozen for a second before he launched forward at the man as he withdrew the gun from his pocket. It was stupid, he knew that, but he had to do it. Something told him to do it. Blood rushed against his ears and the only thing he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat as he tackled the man to the ground and tried to slam the gun out of his hand. As soon as the gun fell to the floor Alfred realized that he had only thought this plan halfway through, and he had no idea how he was going to restrain this guy. He certainly wasn’t going to be able to restrain him with his own strength. A hand closed around his windpipe as the robber tried to flip him over, and Alfred’s hands were too busy with the other other hand. Was the a knife in it? He wasn’t really sure. Suddenly, he remembered something from a video game when he had to used the environment as a weapon when disarmed. Letting the man sit up a bit, Alfred pushed him back down with all his weight, and cracked the robber’s head against the tiles. It worked like a charm in helping to knock out the man, or- worse, but Alfred didn’t want to think about that. Instead he just scrambled backwards away from the body, until his back hit the counter where he rang up groceries. Hands reaching up to rub at his neck, Alfred looked around for the English dude. “You okay?” he coughed shakily. 

Arthur stood wide-eyed at what had just happened before him, shaking his head to pull himself back to a bit of reality. He was about to answer that he was fine, before a nagging pain became known in his side. Hunching over to try and ease it, he put a hand to the source, pulling it back to find his fingers graced with blood. “Fuck,” he swore, trying to ease a trembling breath. It didn’t seem bad, he thought through clenched teeth, just hurts like Hell is all. 

SUPERSTAR AU

lasergunsandlassos:

thatgentlemanhasclass:

lasergunsandlassos:

Alfred was about to bite back that he could find his own damn tea and get out so he could close up shop, but the words died in his throat as his mind processed the stranger’s accent. He sounded familiar, or maybe he just sounded like every other English person, either way, Alfred was curious. Here was someone that you didn’t see everyday. He wanted to know the story, more of the story than he could figure out from the man’s appearance and voice. Plus it would take longer for the stranger to find the tea and Alfred was ready for work to be over.

“Yeah hold on,” he said hopping lazily over the counter rather than fiddling with the locks. “Tea? What’s wrong, did you leave it on the wrong side of the ocean?” Alfred joked as he immediately made a beeline for the powdered iced tea mix that his family used before he paused mid-step. This guy was obviously foreign, and he probably wanted that fancy loose tea or at least the little bags. It took Alfred a minute to remember where they were, before he raced off to the corner of the store and returned with a few different kinds of tea. “I didn’t know what you’d like,” Alfred said awkwardly coming to a stop in front of the English man, or was he a teenager? He looked kinda familiar.

“Oh, you’re funny,” Arthur sneered at the boy’s jab, “but this will do.” Taking a box from the selection, he reached in his back pocket for his wallet and handed Alfred a ten dollar bill. “You can keep the change,” he added, as he started to head out of the shop, satisfied with his find.

Really? He was just coming by to pickup some tea? And he was English. That was all he had to go off of? Great. Wonderful. Alfred was about to concede defeat when something else through him for a lurch. He saw someone walk by the windows, someone who he recognized from the local news a few weeks ago. Apparently he had held up a bunch of convenience stores and they had been seeking any sort of information on the guy from the footage. Alfred wanted to tell Arthur to run but before he could the man entered the store. Shit shit shit shit, think Jones. The man stopped just inside the door, preventing the British guy from leaving. 

To be quite honest, all Arthur was focused on was getting back to his tour bus and proceeding to beat the living shit out of his mates for purposely dumping his tea back across the pond. He hardly took notice to the other figure entering the store until he blocked the entry way. With a firm look of disapproval, he tried to get by, asking the man to move aside, in a tone that could be taken as rather cross.

SUPERSTAR AU

lasergunsandlassos:

thatgentlemanhasclass:

lasergunsandlassos:

Cover for me, his brother said, work my shift please so I can skip out and go to the lake, he said. It’s just a few hours at the store. A few hours, yeah. A few hours of reaching new levels of boredom that he previously thought impossible. The first hour of people watching and ringing up purchases went fine, but as the night grew on the customers got more predictable and less interesting. Matthew had the last shift of the day, and by then it was usually couples that had to run for condoms, or the newlywed running for icecream and pickles for his pregnant wife, and maybe one or two incredibly embarrassed guys purchasing a bottle of lube. Such was the fate of a small family owned grocery store. Alfred’s family didn’t own it of course, but the owners were as close to family as they could be without a marriage between the two families.

Sometimes he thought that his mom was trying to set him up with their daughter, but he soon let her know that he wasn’t exactly okay with his mom meddling in his love life. Alfred wasn’t okay with a lot of what his parents did in his life.

About half an hour from closing though, even the expected last minute runs and predictable night visitors slowed to a crawl. And about fifteen minutes from closing Alfred had started to doze off where he stood, only to be awakened by the ringing sound of the bell hung above the entrance. Shaking his head and checking his watch, Alfred glared back up at the customer. Who the hell came into a store this close to when it was supposed to close? 

“You need something?” He asked irritably rubbing his eyes. The stranger did look out of place, maybe even a little lost…

Arthur told the driver to stop infront of the tiny store with the family name on the top, setting down scribbled sheet music as he did so. It looked like a general shop, maybe a grocer on the side, though besides that, they were bound to stock tea. At this point, he didn’t care what it was, any tea was better than the coffee on the tour bus. 

The young man standing in the shop didn’t looked pleased to be there, Arthur observed with an upturned scowl, however, he didn’t seem interested in Arthur other than he was causing a nuisance, and for that Arthur was grateful. “Yeah, where do you stock your tea?” he inquired, stepping from the front of the store to the front counter. “Anything will do.”

Alfred was about to bite back that he could find his own damn tea and get out so he could close up shop, but the words died in his throat as his mind processed the stranger’s accent. He sounded familiar, or maybe he just sounded like every other English person, either way, Alfred was curious. Here was someone that you didn’t see everyday. He wanted to know the story, more of the story than he could figure out from the man’s appearance and voice. Plus it would take longer for the stranger to find the tea and Alfred was ready for work to be over.

“Yeah hold on,” he said hopping lazily over the counter rather than fiddling with the locks. “Tea? What’s wrong, did you leave it on the wrong side of the ocean?” Alfred joked as he immediately made a beeline for the powdered iced tea mix that his family used before he paused mid-step. This guy was obviously foreign, and he probably wanted that fancy loose tea or at least the little bags. It took Alfred a minute to remember where they were, before he raced off to the corner of the store and returned with a few different kinds of tea. “I didn’t know what you’d like,” Alfred said awkwardly coming to a stop in front of the English man, or was he a teenager? He looked kinda familiar.

“Oh, you’re funny,” Arthur sneered at the boy’s jab, “but this will do.” Taking a box from the selection, he reached in his back pocket for his wallet and handed Alfred a ten dollar bill. “You can keep the change,” he added, as he started to head out of the shop, satisfied with his find.

SUPERSTAR AU

lasergunsandlassos:

Cover for me, his brother said, work my shift please so I can skip out and go to the lake, he said. It’s just a few hours at the store. A few hours, yeah. A few hours of reaching new levels of boredom that he previously thought impossible. The first hour of people watching and ringing up purchases went fine, but as the night grew on the customers got more predictable and less interesting. Matthew had the last shift of the day, and by then it was usually couples that had to run for condoms, or the newlywed running for icecream and pickles for his pregnant wife, and maybe one or two incredibly embarrassed guys purchasing a bottle of lube. Such was the fate of a small family owned grocery store. Alfred’s family didn’t own it of course, but the owners were as close to family as they could be without a marriage between the two families.

Sometimes he thought that his mom was trying to set him up with their daughter, but he soon let her know that he wasn’t exactly okay with his mom meddling in his love life. Alfred wasn’t okay with a lot of what his parents did in his life.

About half an hour from closing though, even the expected last minute runs and predictable night visitors slowed to a crawl. And about fifteen minutes from closing Alfred had started to doze off where he stood, only to be awakened by the ringing sound of the bell hung above the entrance. Shaking his head and checking his watch, Alfred glared back up at the customer. Who the hell came into a store this close to when it was supposed to close? 

“You need something?” He asked irritably rubbing his eyes. The stranger did look out of place, maybe even a little lost…

Arthur told the driver to stop infront of the tiny store with the family name on the top, setting down scribbled sheet music as he did so. It looked like a general shop, maybe a grocer on the side, though besides that, they were bound to stock tea. At this point, he didn’t care what it was, any tea was better than the coffee on the tour bus. 

The young man standing in the shop didn’t looked pleased to be there, Arthur observed with an upturned scowl, however, he didn’t seem interested in Arthur other than he was causing a nuisance, and for that Arthur was grateful. “Yeah, where do you stock your tea?” he inquired, stepping from the front of the store to the front counter. “Anything will do.”