A/N: Is it possible too much writing can cause headaches? I don't know, I've ben having these headaches lately, and I have been sleeping 8 hours a day and eat two times a day. Hmm. Doesn't make me stop writing though. I was watching a beautiful heart-wrenching story titled "America"; about a broken home and sexually abused boy whose name is America too, it's a good movie I highly recommend it! You can say this story is inspired by that movie. :-)
Summary: 27-year old single parent and successful lawyer Arthur Kirkland doesn't wish for another son. In a moment of sympathy, however, he takes in a 17 year-old broken home teenager named Alfred. Things become difficult when Alfred comes to love him, especially when it's nothing paternal. eventual USUK/UKUS AU
Warnings: R-15. Language.
Into the Herd
Chapter One: Lost Child in the Rain
"The state is currently lacking of volunteers for foster families."
Arthur, who was reading some files in silent, lifted his gaze with an eyebrow raised in question. The Spaniard was sitting comfortably across his ebony-colored work desk, eyes were fixating on the newspaper he held in hand, and although it didn't seem like his statement was directed to Arthur, the blonde could tell his work-partner hinted something behind it. And it looked like Arthur had to respond to it, despite his unwillingness to halt on reading the case files. He looked at the small flower-shaped bobbly clock nearby the white laptop on his desk, there was ten minutes before lunch time finished. It wouldn't be bad to chat a bit.
"So I see." Arthur replied, tidying up the messily arranged papers. "And why is that?"
"Because in our country there are currently more than ten million children living on the streets." Antonio clicked his tongue, resting an elbow on the hand of the chair. "And there are not enough foster families nor youth rehabilitation centers to take them in. It's sad, isn't it?"
"Truly." Arthur commented monotonously, finding the subject a bit of a bore. "Can't blame them. It's hard enough raising your own child, how can you care for others'?"
"Maybe so, I don't have a kid, so I don't know yet. I just feel it's a pity, really. Children are supposed to be cared for, but there are so many irresponsible parents in the world. They're the world's treasures and should've been treated as such." Antonio uttered, sighing.
The Kirkland frowned slightly. "There are people who don't appreciate the gifts God gave them. Sometimes we got cases like that when children are abused by their parents, the numbers keep increasing according to the police reports. Including marital abuse, sexual harassment, pedophilia, rape, and the like."
"The world's gone mad… This is making me depressed, and while it's supposed to be working hours. I won't be able to work at this rate." Antonio sighed exasperatedly, a hand went through ebony hair. He folded the large-sized papers neatly, before throwing it onto Arthur's work desk. He glanced at a photo frame on the British man's desk, he took it and flipped it in his hands. A fond smile grew on his lips as he saw a picture of Arthur with a perfect miniscule version of him, grinning and waving his hand while his father smiling politely at the camera.
"Peter's so big now! How time flies, huh? I remember he was so small when I held him. How old is he now?" He asked.
An identical smile appeared on Arthur's face as well. "He's turning seven this weekend. We're going to have a small party on Saturday, you should come. Peter will be happy."
"I will." Antonio sounded excited. "What should I buy for the present? Any tips from his daddy?" He teasingly asked, placing the frame back to its previous position.
"Anything that's not too expensive. Can't be spoiling him all the time, recently he's whining for wii, some sort of game platform I guess. It's troubling me." Arthur calmly smiled, adjusting the silver photo frame.
"You're too strict with him! Come on, Arthur, a boy needs his games, every boy does."
Arthur rolled his eyes, putting the files into the desk drawer and then locked it. "You're such a sucker for kids, you spoil him too much. I'm strict because I want to raise him to be a proper man, buying him expensive gifts won't help it. Just buy something cheap and useful, don't buy anything that might make my son a shut-in." He shot the Spaniard warning eyes, in which the other man took rather quickly.
"…I'm just going to buy him a soccer ball then." The spaniard said, nodding slightly.
"Good." Arthur said as he stood up.
Antonio raised a questioning brow. "Where are you going?" He asked.
Arthur had slid some folders into his briefcase, closing it afterwards. "Peter called earlier, he said school finishes early and he wants me to take him to the park today." He said while shutting down the laptop.
"Call? With what?"
"I bought him a cellphone."
The spaniard smirked. "For a seven-year old? Who's the doting dad now?"
"Shut up. It's only for protection, I need to know where he goes to and who goes with him. And to make sure his teachers watch him so if someone bullies him, I'll know." Arthur stated firmly, walking over the coat hanger nearby the entrance. He lowered the briefcase onto the floor, then glanced over his shoulder, seeing the spaniard still wearing the same smirk on his face. "Sweep that bloody smirk off of your face, I am not spoiling my child. I am being a careful parent."
"Sure. Whatever you say, Arthur." Antonio shrugged his shoulders. "I bet you're going to buy that wii in the end."
Arthur shot him an irritated glare. "I am not. I might buy him something smaller than that."
"Hmm." The brunette didn't look convinced.
"Luckily I've no appointment today. I have to go spend quality time with my kid every once in a while, I haven't have the time lately. Peter's getting lonely and when he does, he gets ten times more troublesome." He slipped his right arm through the coat's silky inner sleeve, then did the same for the other arm. He adjusted the coat, brushing off some dirt on the shoulders. Antonio stood as well, taking the newspaper into his hand. Then he walked over the blonde, passing by him towards the exit.
"He's just a kid you know, he gets lonely when his dad rarely plays with him. Didn't you say you hire a nanny before?" He leaned onto the door post.
"I did. But she didn't last long. None of them did. Apparently Peter is too hyperactive. I even called through several nanny agencies and they turned me down, Peter's name is already on their blacklist. No one wants to take care of him, so I had to drop him in a day care until he entered school." He was tidying his blue-striped tie.
"Hmm. Your kid does have a lot of energy." Antonio nodded. "I'd be glad to take care of him, but then again you'll fire me if I do."
Arthur smiled at him. "You're my favorite accountant, there's no way I'm letting you go even if it's my kid we're talking about. I'll find another way around." He said,
"Haha. Well, you're my most prized employer, I think." The spaniard grinned.
"I am, you git." The British man spat out, but grinned as well. "Now sod off, I'm going to lock my office. Or maybe you prefer being inside and stay until I come again tomorrow?"
"Err… no thank you." The brunette immediately strolled out.
The British man locked his office, bidding good days to his employees along the corridors. He waited for the elevator for five minutes before the iron door slid open for him when it reached the sixth floor, making a clear 'ding' sound. He entered, he met Ludwig, a German who worked on the tenth floor. They knew each other quite well and they had a pleasant conversation along the ride. The German bid Arthur farewell when the elevator reached the ground floor, while Arthur was going to the basement where he parked his Benz. He got off as soon as the elevator stopped and immediately went towards the car, when his cellphone rang in his coat pocket. He fished it out, there was a new text message. It read:
Subject: daddy, hurry up!
Sender: Peter Kirkland
daddy, where r u? school is done. peter waits in classroom alone.
u promise me to park, remember? i wanna eat ice cream and waffles!
peter hungry… hurry up, daddy!
Arthur snickered after he read the message. His boy had already used to the cellphone Arthur bought him two months ago. Peter had been very excited with his new cell, he texted Arthur almost every fifteen minutes, telling his dad what he was doing at that time, like eating lunch, playing soccer with his best friend Raivis, doing art and crafts, even going to the toilet. Arthur was pleased he liked his new cellphone, but the boy did need to fix his grammar… well, it was expected of a seven-year-old boy. Arthur decided he would teach him proper English later at home.
Remembering his promise, he checked his watch. He was indeed late. He slipped a hand to rummage his pocket for the car keys, quickly finding it and unlocking the door with a small remote control. He got in and started the engine. Then he smoothly exited the basement parking lot to the busy streets. Almost immediately drops of water fell from the darkened sky and splashed onto the sparkly clear glass window of his car. It was raining. People on the streets ran with a bag or something flat and wide covering their heads, avoiding direct contact with the falling water. Arthur leaned in closer to the steer, furrowing his eyebrows as water splashed rather harshly to the window.
"Looks like we have to cancel the park today." He murmured, while turning the car onto a corner. "I hope Peter's not sulking right now."
The rain soon became harder and denser. It became hard for Arthur to see the road. Peter's school was just around the corner now after twenty minutes of ride. But as soon as he parked the car in the school parking lot, he didn't see Peter in his usual spot by the school front gates. Looked like the rain forced him to stay inside, perhaps in his classroom. The school building was farther inside though, it was a rather big building but still a bit far from the gates. Arthur got off with a black umbrella in hand, opening it before he stepped outside. He locked the car with the remote again, putting the keys inside the inner pocket of his coat then. He ran towards the gates, rain hitting and soaking the hem of his coat and Italian leather shoes. But they were his least priority.
The school yard looked absolutely empty. It seemed Peter wasn't exaggerating when he mentioned he was waiting for him alone. There was only a guard in security post by the parking lot gate, and the guy was fast asleep when he entered the lot. Arthur couldn't help but to feel a bit worried. He had an uncomfortable feeling raising in his chest. He sped up his steps, the hard soles of his shoes splashed onto water puddles that pooled evenly on the extensive path. It was raining really hard. Arthur could only saw the silhouette of the building as he lunged into the wall of rain.
Seconds later, he finally saw the building and the main door was opened halfway. And a silhouette of someone by the narrow stairs. Arthur halted his steps with wide eyes, his body stiffened as he took the sight of his only child was crouching by the stairs, crying while trying to wipe his face that was soaked by both tears and rain. His clothes and whole body were wet under the downpour. A tattered sea-blue bag laid by his feet, torn and ripped. And there was another person in front of him, lying on the wet, solid cemented ground. He wore soaked, dirty coat and jeans as he curled his body, arms were pressing against his stomach, wriggling in a somewhat pained gesture. Arthur couldn't see his face as it was hidden beneath dirty honey-colored tresses.
Snapping back to reality, Arthur realized his own son might be hurt as well. He rushed towards the two, uncaring of the umbrella that was left behind and fell onto the ground when he released his grip on it in shock. He didn't care for the rain harshly pouring down onto him, almost stumbling on his way as he ran towards his seven-year-old son. "PETER!" He shouted, worry overcame his voice.
Peter lifted up his face at the call, eyes brightened up when he saw his father running towards him. "Daddy!" He shouted, standing up with trembling legs. Then he ran towards Arthur with spread arms, lunging and hugging the older man's legs.
Arthur crouched down to Peter's eye level, clumsy hands went to his son's face and caressed the cheeks, checking for any wound. "What happened? Are you hurt? Why aren't you waiting for me inside?" He asked the question in hurried, worried tone. Emerald eyes looking for any wound on Peter's body, he found nothing but scratches on his knees. But they were probably caused from playing soccer. Other than that, he found none. He sighed in relief.
"I-I'm not hurt, daddy." Peter said, tears still pouring down his eyes. "B-Big brother does." He turned and pointed an index finger towards the slumping figure.
"Oh God," Arthur uttered in panic, standing up and walking over the lying blonde. He crouched by his side, reluctant to touch him but felt worried in the same time. "Is he alright? What happened exactly, Peter? Why is this man hurt?" He turned to his son, who was standing behind him, a hand clutched at his wet coat.
"I-I was waiting for daddy by the door because daddy was late." The boy sobbed, coughing a little. "Then, whe-when I wait, these scary older guys comes and starts bullying me. I'm scared 'coz… 'coz they said they gonna hit me. And--And this big brother comes and tells them to 'fuck off' and then… big brother got hit instead and then he fell and hurt real bad and the mean bullies left laughing… I'm so scared, daddy!" He hiccuped, wiping the reddened eyes.
"No, no, Peter, don't cry! Don't worry, daddy won't let them hurt you. You're safe now. Now go hide from the rain and wait for daddy and this big brother, okay?" Arthur rubbed the boy's head soothingly, adding in whisper as he turned around. "I'm gonna sue those brats' asses off once I got my hands on their names."
"Okay." Peter nodded, then he picked his torn-up bag and ran towards the building, waiting by the gates where the roof protected him from rain.
The blonde teenager grunted in pain. Arthur immediately caught a hold on his shoulder. "Hey, are you okay? Where does it hurt?" He asked, sneaking his arms behind the teenager's back to lift him up a bit. The younger blonde's shoulder slumped lazily and his body turned, and Arthur could finally saw his beaten-up face.
The teenager cracked open a mesmerizing bright blue eye that wasn't swollen purplish blue like the other. Arthur furrowed his eyebrows at the sight of the abused boy; a swollen right eye, cut-up lips that still bled some blood, and a bit of that red liquid dripped down his nostrils. And his left cheek looked blueish like it would swell at any time. He kept clutching at his stomach, gripping tightly at the soiled shirt. It got him suspicious. "Excuse me, move your hands a bit," Arthur said as he carefully peeled off his hands and lifted up the hem of the shirt.
And his eyes went wide.
Big, ugly dark purplish red spread on the tan stomach. It looked very bad and the blonde teenager yelped in pain when Arthur touched it lightly. Arthur pulled his hand quickly. Anyone who did this certainly didn't hold back.
"We have to go to the hospital." Arthur told the blonde teen as he lifted the teen's head, he was about to help him up by the shoulder, but the teen refused the gesture.
"Can't." He stuttered as he wriggled away from Arthur's arms, head facing down as he coughed briefly. Arthur cringed when a few drops of blood splashed from his mouth and mixed into the puddles on the road. The teen glanced at him over his shoulder. "have… no money. Can't pay."
"Money's not a problem. You saved my child, I'll pay for the treatment as a thank you." Arthur quickly said, offering a helping hand.
But the teen didn't take it. He used his elbows to support his weigh, proceeding to get on his knees shakily. Arthur watched as he stood up, staggering a little while still holding onto his stomach. When he stumbled backwards, the British man quickly went to catch the bigger body, helping him stand properly. The teen grinned in gratitude, he winced because he stretched his cracked lips. "Thanks, but no thanks." He said, moving away from Arthur's hands.
"You're badly hurt! Let me take you to the hospital!" The oldest man insisted, but the teen shook his head, lifting a refusing palm at the older blonde.
"N' need ta care 'bout me. Keep yer money fer your kid. He needs it." He said, brushing off the offer.
"At least tell me where you live. I'll take you back." The blonde teen only stared at the British man with his only healthy eye, he paused for a moment before responding.
"I don't 'ave a home."
The statement suddenly cut off any thought from Arthur's mind. And he stood there under the rain, staring dumbfounded at the younger man. Only a second, and he already knew the meaning behind it.
The teen only grinned. "Look, 'tis no biggie. It'll heal right away if I sleep. Go away old man, go home with yer kid." Then he turned on his back, walking away with his back gradually vanishing within the curtain of water.
And Arthur only stood there, dumbfounded.
Suddenly the rain no longer hit him. He glanced to his side and found Peter was holding up an umbrella while standing on his toes, shading him from the rain. "Daddy? What's wrong?" He worriedly asked, big innocent eyes staring up at him.
Arthur's mouth opened. But then closed it. And he opened it again.
"It's nothing."
"The state is currently lacking of volunteers for foster families."
Antonio's words rang in his mind. And even though he was already within the comfort of his apartment, had taken a shower and had dinner with his son, he couldn't seem to get them off of his mind. Arthur sighed as he slumped down onto the sofa, turning on the TV and going over channels to look for news. After he found it, the remote and his hand dropped onto the soft cushion. It was about a recent gas explosion in a five-star hotel, not very interesting for him. And in daze his mind wandered again, reminded of Antonio's words.
"Because in our country there are currently more than ten million children living on the streets."
"And there are not enough foster families nor youth rehabilitation centers to take them in. It's sad, isn't it?"
"It is." Arthur murmured to himself. He remembered the teen who got beaten up in his son's place, he was homeless. He looked like he was around 16-17 years old, and yet he was living aimlessly outside of home, alone. Arthur couldn't forget the sadness he saw in that azure eye. He clenched his jaws. "It is… sad."
He turned off the TV, then got up. He walked down the narrow corridor, towards a door at the end of the path. Standing in front of the door, he carefully turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. The door creaked softly as it swung inward, revealing a darkened room with a single bed right across the door. The room was filled with toys and decorated playfully like a child's bedroom would. Peter was fast asleep, his face displayed childish innocence and peace. Arthur walked over the bed and sat on the edge, a hand gently stroking his son's hair. Peter grunted and smiled in his sleep, he looked like he was having a good dream.
"Children are supposed to be cared for, but there are so many irresponsible parents in the world. They're the world's treasures and should've been treated as such."
Indeed they were. Children were precious treasure. Arthur knew that the day Peter was born. The first time he held that small, fragile baby within his arms, he felt scared because he was so beautiful and precious. He seemed so breakable, and Arthur had though if he held him wrong, he feared the child would shatter like glass. He was scared and yet fascinated. Peter's hands were very tiny back then, he couldn't believe babies had such tiny, soft hands like that. And the feeling of happiness and warmth spreading within him when his tiny fingers clenched down on the tip of his index finger, couldn't be replaced by anything else in the world. Arthur could still remember he cried back then, drops of warm tears just fell from his eyes like that. His ex-wife laughed at him. And he laughed too. It was the happiest day on Arthur Kirkland's life. Peter was his precious treasure, the best thing ever happened in his life.
He couldn't imagine the parents who possessed no heart for their children. How could they abandon such beautiful, innocent things? Love escaped their lips, but nothing but hurtful beatings came from their hands. They abused their children to the point those children couldn't take it anymore and left the house to live on the streets. They slept in cold, dark alleys even in winter, scavenging trash for food. Many thought it was far better than going back home, where their abusive parents were. Arthur would never let his child feel like that, he worked hard to earn money so Peter could go to college, had a fulfilling life although his parents had separated. He intended to raise him with all of he had so he would become a fine man someday. And Arthur would do anything to make sure of that.
After the divorce, his career went smoothly. He was considered as one of the youngest and most successful lawyers in his field, many trusted him for their cases. And they paid him handsomely for his excellent work. He bought a spacious, luxurious apartment in the town more than enough for the two of them. He bought a stylish car, put his son in a good private school, and had even secured savings for his son's college in the future. He was living a far better life than most. He had plenty of extra money he didn't know what else to spend on, since Arthur was not careless in financial department, he never bought expensive but useless things and because of that, his bank account numbers swelled and skyrocketed. Hell, he could even afford another child at this rate.
Another child.
Yes, he was well-off enough to afford another child.
Now that he thought of it, Peter always told him he wanted a brother. And not just any brother, but an older brother. But of course, because Peter was the first child, there was no way Arthur could grant that wish. He told him that many times, but the spoiled child wouldn't listen and demanded for him to somehow make one. Typical child, he was. Arthur thought of something that never crossed his mind before. He was reminded of the blonde teenager who helped Peter earlier. Although he seemed reckless, he had a good soul. Arthur pondered silently as thoughts kept crossing his mind.
After a while, he got up. He tucked in the blanket and gave a kiss on Peter's forehead before he left the room. Outside of the room, he leaned his back against the door, he stared up at the high ceilings. It was quiet, no sounds at all except for the ticking clock from the living room just across the corridor. Arthur lowered his gaze, then he started walking, his legs soon brought him to a spacious kitchen, he spotted a small wooden cupboard hung on the wall by the exit, and went to open it. It was a key box, many small hangers with labels glued right beneath them, and keys of each of the room was hanging there, the car key and its remote was also there.
Arthur gingerly took the car keys.
Then he closed the cupboard carefully. The keys and its unicorn decoration jingled faintly in his hand, he took a grip at it. He left the kitchen, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was late, almost midnight. And from the terrace window he could still see the previously weakened rain had become denser than a minute ago. It was going to rain again tonight, maybe all night. Those who slept outside would freeze, the season had gotten colder after all. Especially if they had to stand the pain from wounds and bruises, they might die. Arthur shook his head at the thought. No, he mustn't be pessimistic, but he did have to hurry.
Without further ado, he sped up his speed towards the front door, fetching two dry and thick coats from closet, and two umbrellas as well. His eyes flew restlessly at his watch, which he found along with the coats, it was late, very late. He wasn't sure if the school gate had been locked. But it wasn't necessary that boy stayed inside. He might've been outside of the school area, wherever he was. Arthur couldn't be sure, but he was not going to give up easily. But he must hurry, if those wounds turned out serious…
Arthur locked his doors and windows before leaving and getting into the elevator. Once it hit the first basement, he got off, eyes quickly searching for his car. He spotted the jade-colored Benz and quickly went over it, coat and umbrellas in hands. He got in and started the engine. The basement was silent but there were cars filling the parking spots, he drove his car to the exit, as soon as it arrived on ground, trickles of water dropped onto his already soaked and unwashed car.
The streets were still filled with people as it was at day, that was how it had always been in this city that never slept. Luckily, the streets were empty and he didn't spot traffic jam in front of him. Arthur increased the speed a tad bit, but not enough to get him pulled over by a patrolling cop. From the highway, he took off, entering the normal road. It was exactly fifteen minutes from his apartment to Peter's school. And he managed to cut it to ten minutes without being fined. As soon as he arrived by the very entrance of the area, he lowered the window, sticking out his head slightly to see if the gates were locked. And it did, damn. And the security guard was nowhere to be found in his post, probably patrolling.
Dammit, what should I do? He mused, biting down his lower lip lightly.
But there was also a possibility that the boy wasn't within the school grounds, and that thought crossed Arthur's mind. He might still be around here somewhere, he couldn't have strayed far with those damages. He pressed the gas and drove away in a much slower speed. He tried circling the area outside of the solid brick wall that surrounded the entire school area. It was a large school, there were elementary, middle, and high school divisions inside, each on a different building, and had excellent facilities such as swimming pool, tennis yard, sport building, green house, etc. But it proved even an expensive school had a loose security, Arthur must complain to the school later.
The neighborhood was dark, so Arthur turned on some extra lights. He drove around for five minutes, still found no clue of the teenager he met before. But as he thought about it, his eyes spotted a silhouette of someone with dirty blonde hair, sitting under the rain next to a trash bin and an electricity pole on the outside wall. Sucking in air in anticipation, Arthur drove closer until he could see his face. His eyes widened slightly, it was really that boy. He was slumping against the brick wall, both hands laid limply at either sides of his body, and he hung his head between his shoulder blades, wet to the bone. Arthur quickly fetched the umbrellas and the coat, opening the door to release the umbrellas first.
The dark blue coat hung on his arm as his hands gripped at each of the umbrella, one for himself, and the other he quickly thrust forward to cover the boy from the rain. The moment he felt no drop of water hit his head, the teen looked up limply, he seemed conscious, but his only healthy eye wasn't focused. He tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows slightly, staring up at Arthur but he couldn't seem to see him clearly. "…who…?" He murmured in very soft, inaudible whisper.
"I'm the father of the boy you saved earlier, my name is Arthur Kirkland" Arthur said as he crouched down, still holding up the umbrella for the teen.
Blue eye widened slightly in realization. "Oh… you…" He grunted, coughing a bit.
Arthur could see his body trembling from the cold of the rain. And a hand crept slowly to the stomach again, gripping tightly at the shirt. "Wh… at… d'ya want, mis… ter?" He asked weakly.
"I'm going to help you and I won't take no for an answer." Arthur said in a firm, demanding tone of voice. Before the boy could comply or refuse, Arthur had thrown the dry coat around his soaked body and positioned himself and then scooped the boy's shoulder over his, while holding the umbrella with his tilted neck. He carefully moved his body, very carefully not to worsen his condition, and brought him back to his staggering knees. The boy was taller and bigger than him, that it was a bit difficult for Arthur to adjust, but he had taken a firm hold on him. He could lift him, he knew he could.
"Why… 're ya doin' this…?" The blonde turned his head towards the older man, realizing his troubles in lifting a bigger weigh. "Told ya… I don't need 'elp…"
Arthur shot him an annoyed glare, while sneaking a hand around the teen to support him better. "Do I need a reason to help someone? I just want to."
The teen gave him puzzling look. "But… I'm just a no good…"
"No child in this world is 'no good'. Don't ever say that in front of me again." Arthur retorted sharply. "And stop talking. Don't struggle. You might make your wounds worse."
The blonde teen went silent then, obeying Arthur along as the older man leading him inside the car. The boy was too weak to protest nor to buckle up himself, so Arthur did that for him instead, making sure the belt tightened safely around the blonde. Then he pulled back, closing the door. He walked around the car to get in from the other door. He glanced at his side, the boy was shivering as he wrapped the coat around him. Arthur turned on the heater and told the boy to take off his soaked shirt and wear the coat instead. The boy complied and did as told, though Arthur had to help him changing clothes. The teen uttered a thank you to him, which he replied with a nod.
"Where… are we going?" The teen asked.
"Hospital. We must have your wounds checked and treated first." Arthur said as he started the engine, his feet pressing the gas paddle.
The blonde teen was staring at him all the while, Arthur noticed it and glanced back at him, but quickly turned his gaze to the road again. "What?" He asked, keeping his concentration on driving.
"Yer… weird." The younger blonde said. "I told ya… ta keep yer money for yer kid… why spend on me…?" He asked, still staring at the older man.
Arthur paused, pondering. But he had made his mind the moment he left Peter's room.
"Because I'll be having another son."
TBC
A/N: This fic is eventual USUK. But I want to build up the family story first before going to the romance :-) What do you think? Do you like it? Papa-Arthur wants to know too ;3