"She is not going to answer you, you know."

Alfred looked up from the postcard he had been filling out. He'd gotten it from the prison commissary earlier that day along with a postage stamp and had planned to spend most of his day carefully wording out his message.

He didn't write often as his funds were low, but whenever he could, Alfred would take his time creating as succinct a note as he could, easily dragging on the writing process for a whole day. He liked to savor every moment he could with his only real connection with the outside world.

He knew that Arthur, his inmate, didn't like to see him dedicate so much time to what he considered a futile attempt.

Alfred met his eyes with a small smile, noticing that the man hadn't moved since the last time they'd spoken perhaps ten minutes ago. He was still leaning against the wall in what Alfred had come to consider his natural pose with a cigarette in his hand and his body tilting ever so slightly in Alfred's direction.

For all of Arthur's disapproving words, Alfred knew that if he ever needed a loan to buy a new pencil or an extra card, his inmate would hand the sum over without comment.

He tended to push people away with his impatient frowns and sarcastic wit, but Alfred had figured the man out within a week of first meeting the Brit—he was a softie at heart. A stubborn one.

Realizing that he wasn't going to get another word written in the near future with Arthur looking at him that way, Alfred sighed and set the card and the pencil he'd been using down on the cot beside him. "Y'never know, Arthur. Maybe this'll be my lucky break."

Arthur snorted without the usual flicker of amusement he reserved for their conversations. "Not very bloody likely and you know it. I highly doubt she even reads a word you write to her. Hell, she probably throws it away the moment she sees it is from her disappointment of a son who got himself thrown in prison."

Alfred flinched despite himself. He knew that Arthur didn't say any of this to intentionally hurt him, but his words stung anyway. "She's my mother. I know she reads it. I may have let her down, but she still loves me."

Maybe it was the forced cheerful tone of his voice or perhaps the false smile that followed. Whatever it was, it made Arthur pause.

Alfred watched as the man pushed himself away from the wall and walked over, crouching on the ground in front of him. He never did let go of his cigarette but his free hand reached out and cupped Alfred's chin tenderly, green eyes meeting blue with undiluted concern.

"Of course, love. I am sorry. I just hate seeing you getting your hopes dashed when they hand out the mail and there is nothing for you. I do not like seeing you get hurt time and time again without being able to do anything about it."

Alfred looked away. "You still think I'm stupid for trying though, don't you? You think I'm wasting my time."

"Look at me," Arthur insisted, tugging at Alfred's chin and forcing him to meet his gaze once more. "You are right—I do think you are wasting your time. However, I by no means think any less of you for trying. You are a wonderful, caring man, Alfred Jones, and I love you for it."

Arthur didn't voice his emotions very often and when he did, Alfred knew that it didn't come easily to him. If he were to compare himself to his inmate, Alfred had extremely loose lips when it came to verbalizing his affection.

To hear Arthur compliment him so was a rare treat, which Alfred had come to appreciate appropriately.

Despite himself, Alfred smiled. He couldn't stay sullen for the life of him. He reached his hand out as well, caressing Arthur's cheek with his fingertips. "Enough to let me finish my doomed postcard without you grumbling in the corner?"

It was obvious that Arthur had been expecting something else.

His brows shot up his forehead in surprise, and soon enough came his trademarked frown. Quickly, he let his hand drop and pulled away petulantly.

Alfred couldn't help but laugh.

"Just kidding. Come here and kiss me, old man."

Without further ado, Alfred leaned forward and held Arthur's face in his hands, holding him in place as he pressed their lips together. Soon enough, Arthur was pressing back in what proved to be a smoky and somewhat sweet kiss.

He may have been renounced by his own mother, but at least Alfred knew that he was loved.

This was written for the 365daysofusuk blog on tumblr, but now that it was published, I'm free to post it here :) I love prison aus... either way, it'd be awesome to hear what you think!