Alfred and Arthur are friends who attend a rather…multicultural high school. Recently they had a bet on whose home country made the better movies. The winner would get the loser to do whatever the winner wanted (within reason, of course). And as expected, Alfred won. To Arthur, it seemed like a small deal, and agreed that what Alfred had suggested was 'within reason'. Arthur didn't ever guess how far such a simple bet could be taken…

-

"I cannot believe you managed to talk me into this," Arthur said, gripping the pole on the bus and leaning his head tiredly against it. He stared at the clouds drifting slowly across the summer afternoon sky. Ugh. Alfred was dragging him to an anime convention that was hours away from either of their houses. Anime.

During the past few months, Alfred had started talking with a Japanese kid named Kiku in his tech class over their shared love of videogames, which eventually led to his most recent obsession of the strange cartoons. Since then, he hadn't stopped talking about this convention for months.

Alfred grinned in the seat next to him. "Come on, it's only three days Arty! Besides, you can't say anime is bad, 'cause you've never seen it."

Arthur turned away from his friend. He scoffed. "Like I ever wanted to," he muttered.

"What was that?"

"Never mind. Anyways, why are we coming early again?"

Alfred rolled his eyes. "You know, there's gonna be this huge line and we need to go find a hotel room and well, it's just so awesome that you have to be early!"

Arthur just scowled. "Better be."

-

Arthur perched his elbow on the counter of the hotel reception and leaned his face against it, watching Alfred get them a room. The lady at the desk was obviously flirting with him.

Arthur watched the exchange, yawning. The rather attractive American was constantly being flirted with. "Hey, Alfred," he said indifferently.

Alfred looked up from his conversation. "Yeah?"

"Make sure you get a room with two beds, will you?"

Alfred gave him a funny look and a crooked grin that made Arthur's cheeks flush red. From the heat, he told himself. "You scared of me or something?" Alfred asked.

The Brit gave him a look that told even someone as dense as Alfred to stop inquiring into the matter.

A few minutes later, Alfred walked away from the desk and towards his companion, whistling and twirling two key cards between his fingers. "Don't explode, 'kay?" Alfred said.

"What is it?"

"They're out of rooms with more than one bed."

"…Oh." Arthur pondered this in silence for a while. "Well then, it doesn't matter."

Alfred breathed a sigh of relief. He took a look at the key card. "Room 3417," he said. "Better get going."

After about five minutes of waiting for an elevator in an awkward silence they finally got inside, Arthur having to carry both their suitcases ("I won the bet, you do it."). Alfred looked at the buttons on the wall, finding number 34 and pressing it. The elevator started up slowly and creakily. It took 15 seconds between every floor.

"This is gonna take a while, isn't it," Alfred said, taking a seat on his suitcase.

Arthur preferred to stay silent. His thoughts were elsewhere anyways.

I can't believe I have to share a bed with Alfred. That guy talks and laughs and moves and does everything imaginable in his sleep. …This is going to be a long weekend…

"Oi, Arthur," Alfred said, interrupting the Brit's thoughts suddenly.

"Yes?"

Alfred got up and walked past his suitcase towards him. He perched a fist on the wall over his companion's head. "How long have we been best friends?" he asked, a smile playing on his features.

Arthur cocked an eyebrow up. "That's a rather strange question to be asking while standing like that, isn't it?"

The other looked away. "Right."

"Well, anyways, you and I are both seventeen, so I'd say about five years," he replied coolly.

Alfred turned back to face him. "It's already been all this time, huh?"

"Yes, I…I guess it has been. What are you getting at?"

"How would you feel if I said I've been keeping something from you for most of that time?" he continued.

Arthur pondered the thought. "It would…depend what it is, I guess."

"Well then." Alfred backed to the other side of the cramped space. He smiled awkwardly and scratched the back of his head. "Um, I'm gay."

Arthur stared blankly back at him for a few seconds, processing those 2 words. They sank in slowly. He's gay. My best friend is gay. No wait, is he joking? Arthur studied the American who was trying to focus on the ceiling. Something about his face told him otherwise. He debated how to respond to this. A million options flashed through his mind. "That was a terrible joke." "Come again?" "Want me to carry your suitcase?" "…". He opened his mouth to say something, right when the elevator doors opened on the 32nd floor.

A bell boy walked in holding a massive suitcase and a birdcage. He gave them a friendly nod. Arthur shot an apologetic look at Alfred, who shrugged and looked away.

At their floor, they shuffled past the bellboy in a heavy silence. They continued on like this until they got to their room. Alfred opened the door and dashed inside, directly into the bathroom.

Arthur's mind was too busy to take in his surroundings. He left his stuff by the door walked to the bed in a daze, flopping back onto the single bed in the room. Get yourself together, idiot, he thought to himself. Why should this change anything between us? He's always been there for you and you have to be there for him now.

He swallowed and got up, walking towards the bathroom. He knocked on the door. "Alfred?"

"Yeah, I'm still here."

"You know this doesn't change a thing between us, right?"

At that moment, Alfred opened the door wide and smiled his usual goofy grin. "Of course it doesn't change anything," he said. "Why would it?"

Arthur gave him a you-know-why look.

"I was just kidding." Alfred's gaze softened. He gave his companion a hug. "I love you, man."

The Brit hugged him back. "That's an awkward thing to say, considering the current subject matter," he replied, voice muffled by Alfred's chest.

The other laughed. "Not like that." He released him. "So anyways." He looked around the room. His eyes fell on the bed, and he started to laugh. "There's no way both of us are going to comfortably fit on that," he said.

Arthur followed his gaze. He had been too preoccupied with his thoughts to notice it earlier. It was indeed the smallest hotel-room bed he had ever seen. "Oi," he said simply.

"Whatever, we'll figure it out later," Alfred said, eyes scanning the rest of the room. "Hey look, we have a balcony." He went outside to it, Arthur trailing behind. His eyes scanned the scene below and he whirled around, making Arthur jump.

"The line is already really long!" Alfred shouted. "Come on!"

He grabbed Arthur by the wrist and practically dragged him out of the room and down 34 flights of stairs. ("It's faster than that stupid elevator.") They sprinted across the street and to the end of the lengthy queue forming on the outside of the convention building. The two of them stood there, panting.

Alfred looked at his watch. "2 o'clock." He breathed a sigh of relief. "We're good for time."

The line progressed fairly quickly and they got to the front in less than half an hour. Finally the girl at the desk called them forward. Alfred found his American flag-print wallet and pulled out the required 110 dollars. "Two passes for the whole weekend," he said, smiling at her. She smiled back and handed them their tags.

Alfred handed one to Arthur. "Well then," he said. "We've got another 3 hours to kill."

Arthur stopped and stared at him. "WHAT."

Alfred backed away slowly. "Yeah…I didn't think we'd be here that fast, so…" He laughed sheepishly, guiding Arthur out of the convention hall. "I have an idea."

Once again, they started the long trek to their shafted hotel room.