Disclaimer: I claim no ownership.
"Hey Matt! Dazed and Confused is gonna be on in seven minutes." Alfred shouted, floating through the apartment. "Are you hiding from me?" He accused, finding no sign of his human roommate.
The ghost paused briefly, the sounds of running water reaching him. A wicked grin flashed across his face. "Found you." He chortled, abruptly throwing himself towards the bathroom.
Unfortunately, he ended up tumbling through the door with more force than he expected and half of him went through the sink as he fell.
It was then the shower shut off and Matthew pulled back the shower curtain. Alfred remained absolutely still when it became clear that the blond hadn't seen or sensed him (because Matthew would've already shouted). Of course, because Alfred was Alfred, took advantage of the situation and got a good eyeful of the blond who tended to run around in baggy jerseys and hoodies and even socks in the apartment.
Hot damn.
All pale skin and lean muscle and a fantastic set of gams and damp curls that clung to slightly pink cheeks and Alfred suddenly wondered why he ever wanted a female roommate when he was gifted with this fine specimen of the human race.
Nice dick too.
(Even when he was alive, Alfred was an equal opportunity bachelor.)
Then Matthew turned around to grab his towel and Alfred was graced with, quite possibly, the eighth wonder of the world.
"Wow." He couldn't help but utter, not noticing when the other stiffened, slowly glancing over his shoulder.
"Next time knock!" Matthew snarled, nearly every inch of skin covered except his face, as he finished his verbal beating of Alfred.
The ghost looked contrite, despite the shuddering sobs that wracked his body that was curled into a defensive little ball.
Matthew huffed, face red with anger as he glared at the ghost. Slowly, he felt his anger melt away and he squatted down, awkwardly trying to pat the ghost on the shoulder. "There there." He murmured, a bit grudgingly. "I'll go rent Dazed and Confused since we missed it."
"O-okay." Alfred sniffled.
"And then we can watch your stories and find out if Bernardo survived that car crash. Sounds nice, eh?"
"Can I have ice cream?"
Matthew grimaced, thinking of how he'd be washing his couches later. But he could see the softest glimmer of something in the ghost's barely visibly eyes and he smiled gently, "Of course."
"I get older and they stay the same age." Alfred grinned. "Wooderson is my hero."
"He's a creep." Matthew countered.
"But he's a creep who gets laid."
"I feel like I need to be high."
"No way! Marijuana is a gateway drug! Its how the Devil gets inside your brain!"
"…Didn't you once mention snorting cocaine?"
"Yeah and even I wouldn't touch pot."
"That bastard!" Matthew shouted, throwing the empty popcorn bowl at the television and just barely missing. "How could he just do that Elisa? You son of a bitch!"
"She loved you!" Alfred screamed at the television. "You cold-hearted beast!"
Hours later, Alfred turned his head lazily and noticed that Matthew had fallen asleep, his head resting against the back of the sofa and his glasses balanced on the tip of his nose.
Smiling fondly, the ghost leaned over and plucked off the other's glasses and carefully transferred them to the coffee table. Then, equally carefully in an attempt to watch his ectoplasm, tucked the other in using a throw, dancing in victory when he succeeded and Matthew didn't even mumble.
Then, with a quick glance to the digital numbers on the clock and noting that the channel had slipped into Spanish infomercials, the ghost drifted away, already bored.
Deciding to indulge in his newest favorite pastime, Alfred phased through the wall in Matthew's room and moved around the room, entertaining himself by looking at what few pictures the blond had. Again.
There were one of Matthew, barely five years old, standing with a teenage blond, both boys smiling happily at the camera. Another was of Matthew, dressed in a hockey jersey, arms around two other boys as the trio grinned at the camera, their hair sweaty plastered to their foreheads. Another was of blond baby wearing a white nightdress with enormous purple eyes and pale curls (Alfred aww'd at baby Matthew and made a mental note to tease the boy again). Another photo was of Matthew bundled up in snow gear, looking off to the side, most likely speaking to another person.
Finally, there was one of Matthew with that Gilbert guy, holding red cups and leaning against each other.
There weren't any photos of his parents and Alfred, of course, was curious. But he didn't want to pry too much because Matthew hadn't ask him any questions about his death or his past life.
With a bored sigh, the blond started searching through the other's books, picking out an old copy of Winnie the Pooh.
"Been a while since I've read this." He opened it up and, interestingly, a Polaroid tumbled out and landed on the carpet. "Hello there." The ghost murmured, kneeling down to try and get the picture. After a few tries, he succeeded and pulled it up to his face.
It was a picture of Matthew standing next to an older looking boy. Matthew looked a little uncomfortable and the other boy….
"Holy shit." Alfred stared at the other kid, taking in the bushy eyebrows and green eyes and the sweater vest. "That's Arthur."
So it was the same Arthur Gilbert mentioned.
And, slowly, a memory came to him, sluggishly.
"Who was that?" Alfred asked as Arthur hung up the phone.
"My brother." The Englishman said curtly.
"You have a brother? That's awesome. I'm jealous."
Arthur's expression dropped for a moment. "I don't think you have any reason to be."
After some more pressing, Alfred learned that the two brothers were somewhat distant though Arthur remained tight-lipped about why.
Thought, to be honest, he was expecting a miniature version of Arthur, sweater vest and eyebrows and foul disposition to boot. Instead he got the almost exact opposite (acidic tongue, aside).
By the time Matthew started to awaken, Alfred had already put together a plan. He would ask Matthew about his brother, Arthur, and then somehow convince the blond to call the Brit to come over in hopes that he'd be able to help with Alfred's little problem.
…Okay, big problem but whatever.
"Hey, Mattie." The ghost popped his head into the kitchen where a groggy Matthew was grappling with the coffee maker. "Can I—"
A coffee mug flew through his head and Alfred yelped, the mug shattering behind him.
He forgot Matthew wasn't a morning person.
By the time Matthew followed him into the living room, Alfred had forgotten all about his plan and photograph (that was now lost in the weird dimension that spare change hides in between couch cushions) and was too busy fascinated in the Spanish-speaking man on the infomercial selling a juicer.
"Sorry for throwing that mug at you." Matthew said shyly, the irritated scowl gone from his face. He sat next to the ghost. "I have to run some errands today. What should I leave the TV on?"
"…Can we get that?" Alfred asked excitedly, pointing to the man who was now juicing the fuck out of a bunch of carrots.
"No." Matthew said sternly, taking the remote and switching to cartoons.
Matthew rushed back to the apartment, mood foul thanks to the pouring rain that had started, without warning, the moment he stepped out of the grocery store. With a huff, he jogged towards his building, his clothing clinging to him under the barrage of rain and his sneakers squelching with each step.
As he neared his building, he happened to look up, catching sight of his apartment window. In the window, though, was a vaguely familiar face peering out and, when that gaze shifted towards him, Matthew couldn't help but smile when he realized it was Alfred.
Urging himself to run faster, the college student, breathing a little labored, dashed up the sidewalk into the safety of the stairwell and up the stairs. Finally reaching his apartment door, the blond transferred the groceries to one hand and unlocked the door with the other. Stepping into the apartment, he realized something very quickly.
"Crisse Alfred. It's freezing." He sucked in a breath of chilly air through his teeth and shivered. "Alfred." Matthew repeated, his breath frosting in the cold air, when the ghost didn't appear immediately as he tended to.
Fully entering his apartment, the blond shook out his damp blond hair and kicked the door shut behind him and went to the kitchen. "I picked up an issue of Sports Illustrated." He called, pulling out groceries one by one. "Swimsuit edition." He added, receiving no response.
After all the groceries had been put away, Matthew grabbed the magazine and went out to the sitting area, violet eyes searching the room for the barest sign of his roommate. "Alfred." He frowned. "You were right here." He sulked.
With a sigh, the blond dropped the magazine onto the couch and started to search around the apartment for his missing ghost. When it became clear that Alfred had dissipated moments after he saw him in the window, Matthew dropped onto the couch and crossed his arms, trying to figure out where the other could have gone.
It was around this time that Matthew realized he had been living with another person for over a week now and, despite the time they spent together, that he barely knew anything about Alfred.
All he was sure of was that Alfred was tied to the building. And that he couldn't work electronics. And that he had the attention span of a rabbit. And that he was good at science-y things.
But anything more personal, Matthew couldn't say. And, if he was going to be living with the other for a while, then it didn't sit well with the blond that he and his roommate would be relative strangers.
Especially since Alfred had already seen him naked.
Alfred, once again perched on the edge of the room, stared moodily out into the storm as the raindrops slid through him.
It happened on a day like this.
So engrossed in his thoughts, the ghost didn't notice when an umbrella moved over him, protecting him from the rain.
But he did nearly tumble through the roof when a soft voice interrupted his musing. "So this is where you went."
He turned and saw Matthew, wearing an enormous yellow poncho, his eyes kind behind his glasses.
"How'd you find me?" Alfred inquired, leaning back to better see the blond.
Matthew blushed, pink dashing across the bridge of his nose. "I was…kind of looking for you and thought I'd try the roof." He whispered, fidgeting slightly. "The apartment was too quiet." He added shyly.
Alfred stared at him for a long moment before he laughed lightly. "I like to come here to think."
"About what?" Matthew asked innocently.
Alfred laughed. "Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about." He joked, rising to his feet and trying to ignore his somber thoughts. He reached out, and Matthew noticed that the ghost was biting his lower lip in concentration, and ghosted his hand over the blond's hair in an attempt to tousle it. "Let's get inside, Mattie."
Happy New Years everyone!