Ages:

Alfred- Freshman

Arthur- Sophomore

"They consider this clothing? I've seen swim teams with more concealing uniforms than this!"

Arthur chuckled, flipping vacantly through his science notes as he sat atop the sink counter. Usually, his roommate would help him study, but apparently he was having a bit of a mental breakdown in the community bathroom, so that wouldn't be happening for a while.

"If it makes you feel better, the women's uniforms are equality revealing."

There was a short pause. "A little." Alfred was heard wiggling around in the stall, supposedly getting a feel for this new team uniform. "You have to wear this shit too, right?"

"Not quite. What you are wrestling with in there is called a speed suit, for runners that utilize speed. I run mid-distance, so I get the pleasure of wearing actual shorts... small as they may be."

Alfred's pout could practically be heard through the stall. "This sucks. How the hell am I even supposed to pee in this thing?"

"That, you will have to figure out for yourself." He placed his notebook on the sink and hopped off with a clap of his hands. "Alright, let us see."

"Dude!" Alfred exclaimed, "I'm not coming out wearing this!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I'm going to see you in it eventually. Come now, out you go."

The door to the toilet creaked open a few inches, just enough to reveal one bright blue eye and a flash of glass over it. "No one else is out there, right?"

"No."

"You didn't even check, you douche!"

The British boy rolled his eyes and looked both ways tiredly. "Still no."

The blue eye was joined by a bit of pink-tinged cheek. "Okay. Don't laugh at me!"

"Why on Earth would I laugh at you?" Arthur snapped. "It's a uniform, we all have to wear one and...and..."

His words died on his tongue as his younger roommate shuffled out of the stall, his face a bright red and his hands self-consciously hovering over his privates. "This thing leaves nothing to the imagination..." he mumbled, biting his lip and checking his reflection in the mirror.

It most certainly didn't, Arthur admitted to himself silently. He had seen more than his fair share of teammates in the rather unflattering World Academy speed suits, but before this they had all been, well, unflattering. Alfred, it seemed, was a different story.

His well-toned muscles, usually hidden under baggy sweatshirts or football padding, were on full display, the tight, stretchy fabric clinging to all the right places. If Arthur admitted that he thought the freshman was a pretty nice looking young man before, he was down right appetizing now.

"I feel like the bottoms are going to ride up when I run," he was saying, now inspecting his (very, very firm) backside in the mirror, a critical frown gracing his handsome features. "What sort of underwear am I supposed to wear in this?"

Arthur gulped. Alfred's underwear was not the road he wished to travel down right now. "W-what do you, um, usually wear w-when you run?" Arthur stuttered.

Alfred pursed his lips and looked to the ceiling in thought. "Boxer-briefs. But wont you be able to see the lines? I mean you can practically see the leg hair through these things!" He paused and looked back at the sophomore brightly. "Should I wear briefs, you think?"

Arthur blushed hotly, spinning around to face the door so Alfred couldn't see him. "Whatever you feel comfortable in, I suppose."

"Nothing about this thing will ever be comfortable," he grumbled.

Arthur rolled his eyes, willing his mind to focus on anything else but Alfred's... well, butt, so as not to create an awkward situation.

Which is, of course, when the three stooges decided to ruin his life once again.

"So I says to that bitch, I says 'Liz, if you want up on this you gotta-' Oh hey, lookin' good there, Golden Boy!" Gilbert exclaimed as he entered the bathroom, Francis and Antonio close behind. "Trying on the ol' uniform I see! Enjoying the show there, Artie?"

The roommates flushed, Arthur ducking behind his science notebook as Alfred (rather impressively) leaped back into his stall. The other boys laughed.

"Ah, mon cher!" Francis exclaimed, squatting down to peak under the stall door hiding the freshman. Alfred instantly squeaked and made to strike, though the pole vaulter expertly dodged the well-aimed foot to his grinning face. "There is no need to hide! You actually wear the uniform well!"

"Si!" Antonia agreed. The Spaniard was taking care of his business at the urinals, turning his head to smile at wall of the toilet stall. "You are pretty muscular, amigo. I would not be embarrassed at all if I were you! And I have been wearing that thing for years!" Francis nodded eagerly in agreement, now standing on the toilet in the stall to Alfred's right. He ducked down just as a fist flew by his head.

Gilbert cackled, ripping Arthur's science notebook from in front of his face and holding it above his head where he knew the shorter boy couldn't reach it. "Thank Gott we're not sprinters, eh Art? I wouldn't be caught dead in that-" He paused, finally getting a good look at the Englishman's face. He grinned as the dots connected. "Yo Crumpet, you feeling okay?" he all but sang. "Your face seems kinda red."

"I'm just dandy thank you," Arthur grumbled, trying desperately to cover his face. "May I have my notebook, please?"

"I dunno," Gilbert mused. He placed a pale hand on Arthur's forehead, much to the younger boy's annoyance. "You feel warm. I think you've done enough studying for today...if you know what I mean."

Oh, Arthur knew what he meant, and this knowledge did nothing but cause his face to go both hotter and redder.

Apparently done with urinating and creeping respectively, Antonio and Frances seemed to know exactly what Gilbert meant as well, joining the conversation with wide smiles.

"Ay, what are you studying, Arthur?" Antonio asked, not nearly as innocent as he seemed.

Francis threw an arm around his friend's shoulders, raising an eyebrow suggestively "Human biology, perhaps?"

Face glowing, Arthur hauled off and punched Gilbert in the gut, snatching his notebook as he doubled over and waving it at threateningly at the other students. "BUGGER OFF! ALL OF YOU!"

Francis, Antonio and Gilbert fled the bathroom, laugher and a few hard wheezes trailing behind them in their wake. Arthur sighed in relief, checking his reflection in the mirror and fanning his (still quite red, unfortunately) face in hopes of cooling it down.

The lock on Alfred's stall door clicked and the boy stuck his head out, nervously glancing both ways before settling his gaze on Arthur. "Is the coast clear? I mean, I'm out of the uniform and stuff, but who knows with those guys, right?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, it's safe."

Alfred let out a breath and stepped back into the open, clad once again in his old baggy clothes. Arthur wasn't sure whether to be grateful or disappointed. "Thank God. Those guys are nice and all, but man, do they creep me out sometimes!" He pushed the door open, allowing Arthur into the hallway first and following behind. "Hey Artie, what were they talking about with the human biology stuff? I thought you were in chemistry."

Arthur flushed, turning sharply into their room and falling face first onto his bed with a groan. Alfred blinked.

"I wont ask," he chucked, tossing his uniform back into his gym bag and closing the door behind him.

There you go! This fic is pretty much going to be a series of little one-shots following Arthur and Alfred's years in college together. It may time-jump a bit, but I'll always include what year the boys are in at the top so it's less confusing! :)

I'm kind of a bit of a track nerd, so I promise you I will be throwing in random track lingo along the way. If you have any questions, please feel free to visit my tumblr (link in profile!) to ask, ask in the reviews, or send me a PM! I will be happy to answer any questions you may have! I ran track for 11 years and I'm a coach now so I know quite a bit. XD

Anyway, hope you enjoy! I'm very excited!