𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝟒 — 𝑨𝑳𝑭𝑰𝑬 𝑩𝑼𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬
warnings — none, i think!!! this is mostly a set-up chapter for the next one (i wanted to make it sort of a two parter but i feel bad enough for the long wait as is so im not)
authors note — i despise this actually i think im only posting it atp to clear it from my drafts
i cant express how sorry i am for the wait you guys have been through for this and its not even good ugh im quitting
Things progressed slow and easy with Alfie; what started as comments on each other's videos and posts developed into a streak on Snapchat, strings of messages that would've confused the shit out of any normal person, and phone calls lasting hours.
Your record so far was 15 hours; after making yourself some food and chattering away about some upcoming content plans, you'd gotten all tucked up in bed and fallen asleep as his Xbox whirred on the other end, cut off only by his occasional murmured comment. You hadn't nodded off so quickly in years, drifting into a quiet slumber as he went about slaughtering masses of innocent NPC's on his end.
An hour or so later, Alfie was shuffling from the spare room into his bedroom, phone in his hand as he looked down at the screen to see your Bitmoji. Smiling.
That was when he knew he'd lost it. Smiling at a fucking Bitmoji? He'd never been this gone for anyone.
He shed his top and kicked off his joggers, leaving them in the corner as he sank into his mattress, a sigh falling from his lips as he swiped up on his phone and took to Tiktok for a quick pre-sleep doomscroll, a quarter of the screen sacrificed so he could keep smiling like a fucking idiot at your fucking bitmoji.
None the wiser, you awoke some eight hours later, shifting restlessly under the uncomfortably-hot sheets of your bed, before standing and yanking your window open with a huff. You made quick work of washing your face and cleaning your teeth in your en suite, before letting your feet carry you back to bed.
A quick glance at your phone and you saw that he was still on the call. Something about that made you smile, though you weren't sure why.
It didn't matter where you were or who you were or weren't with, the two of you texted constantly. And called daily—if for a quick chat when he was in between filming for his vlog, or because you needed him to convince you not to order a Chinese (which he never would, awful influence that he can be), or simply to talk you to sleep.
Your favourite part of it all, though, had to be his laugh. Soft, sometimes, or rough and low, or loud and careless. Whether it was only a breath from his nose or a chuckle or a howl, you didn't care. You just liked his laugh, craved it, sought it out with stupid jokes.
He was in London again, and you were in Manchester. You imagined him sat up in bed, the glow of the Premier Inn's purple lights behind the headboard illuminating the room as he spoke to you. He imagined you among light pink bedsheets and a wall of fluffy blankets, curled up maybe, a hand under your cheek as you spoke.
"Would you rather be a butt plug or a ball gag?" you hummed.
He roared a laugh at that, almost choking on his breath as he shook his head, "The fuck, girl?"
"Just answer," you giggled.
"Right, right," he nodded, laying back and drumming his fingers over his stomach. "Depends. Can I pick, like, who I'm being used on?"
"Only if you tell me who it is."
"So... God, fine, I'll be a ballgag."
"I knew it," you hummed proudly, rolling over onto your stomach as you looked down at the forgotten Fuzzy Hygge colouring page in front of you. "You don't seem like much of a buttplug guy."
"Ta," he breathed out. "I think."
You nodded slowly, plucking a blue pen from the case, "Mhm.."
"Mm?" you tilted your head, chewing on your lip as you swiped the marker up and down the page.
Alfie shifted on his end, listening to the soothing sound of the brushstrokes you made against the page, halfway into your own little world as you worked on colouring. Letting out a breath, he shook his head, rumbled out, "Well, I ain't really meant to tell ya this-"
You perked up at that, eyes bright as you hummed, "Ooh, gossip?"
"Nah," he chuckled. "Nah, you little cretin. I'm.. doing somethin' next week..." You don't even have the chance to reply before he's caving under absolutely no pressure, "Fuck it, I'll tell ya. But you can't tell anyone, alright?"
"Sure," you gave a little nod, even if he couldn't see it. When he didn't respond, you sighed, "I promise. Would use my pinky if I could..."
Alfie's fangs dug into his bottom lip for a moment as he heard that, trying not to smile. "Alright, alright, smartarse. I'm going on Inside."
"What, the Sidemen thing?"
He heard the strokes of your pen stop.
"So I won't have my phone."
"But what about our streak?" you uttered and the thought occured swiftly that you must've sounded disgustingly down bad.
Chuckling at that, Alfie offered, "It's only at twenty, we can get that back easy. And it's only a week."
"Mm... what, uh.. would you do with the money? If you win?"
"I dunno, maybe invest in summat."
You stayed on the call for a while, your soft voice less frequent yet somehow only all the more beautiful when it did drift through his speakers. After hanging up, he worried you might really be upset, given how quiet you had gone, making his way into the shower.
Some Drake tune drifted through the little en suite, drowning out his groan as he stood under the hot stream of water, convincing himself you weren't that bothered — he'd known you for, what, two months, and had only a handful of real-life interactions together. You could survive a week without him.
Even if he wasn't entirely sure that he could survive a week without you.
Once he'd dried off, he tugged some boxers on and dragged himself over to the bed, grasping his phone and following the usual routine of stalking all your socials.
He'd been scrolling through your reposts when a notification of a new post came through and he clicked it instantly, being directed to one of your 'Online PT' videos. He smiled his way through the entire thing, eyes clinging to yours through the screen as you gave advice to one person who'd been in your DM's, asking about a routine for weight loss.
You rambled on about the usual stuff, basic workouts and exercises that didn't involve expensive gym equipment, healthy foods and the best smoothie combinations, even going onto topics of gut health and the utmost importance of water, and he could only grin as he watched. He loved this little series you had, a free alternative to the extortionate prices of personal trainers and health advisors, for no other reason than the fact you wanted to help people. His eyes may as well have reshaped into cartoon hearts.
He woke up with his head in his pillow and his phone near overheating in his hand, having been replaying that very video all night, unable to remember when he'd drifted off. He didn't care that his phone was now on 3%, couldn't bring himself to care about anything but the sight of you.
Waking up, it was half relief and half panic to find you were on your period. Sure, you'd had to spend twenty minutes hunched over the cold tap cursing your uterus for only ever crumbling when you were wearing your cute underwear, but at least you had something to blame for the pit in your stomach as you desparately fought back any and all worries of Alfie forgetting you while he was filming for Inside.
After the clean-up, you made your way back to the comfort of your bed and your phone, drafting a message instantly.
'sorry-' that one was cut off there, your thumb spamming the delete button as your mind raced.
You told yourself it was completely normal that you'd taken thirty minutes to think of a reasonal message, fleeing your notes app to take it to the real deal, finding him pinned on your Snapchat and typing,
'hey sorry about last night i was tired'
'so cool youre doing that just dont forget me when youre the face of netflix😹'
In the three minutes it took for him to reply, you'd persuaded yourself, somehow, after staring at the messages for too long, that they were a written death sentence, pathetic and stupid and far too obvious. Now you looked like a stupid, jealous freak. Just fantastic.
While you were washing your face, you heard the notification of a reply and shot your arm out for your washcloth, drying your face as you leapt back through to your bedroom and snatched your phone up, opening the chat to two new messages.
'couldnt forget u if i tried'
Then a snap came through, one of his favourite stupid angles with his eyes crossed and his tongue sticking out, the stupid, beautiful, way too fucking endearing idiot.
In between snapping him with stupid filters, you found yourself drifting to and from different holiday apps.
Three days and a price drop was all it took for you to cave, booking a three day getaway for yourself that just so happened to align with the days he'd go on Inside. A nice distraction, you told yourself. Completely reasonable. And almost unfair not to, given the price, even if it did mean traveling with Ryanair.
You were mid pad-change when Alfie called, nearly jumping out of your skin at the loud ringing of your phone, hurrying to finish and reach for the device on the sink once you'd chucked the old pad and washed your hands.
"Hey," you hummed as you answered just in time.
"Alright, girl? What you doin' today?"
"Oh. You alright? Sound a bit funny,"
"Right.. Want me to leave you alone?"
"No, sorry, I just.. it's just that time of the month."
It seemed to take a moment for him to grasp that, before he let out a breath. "Do you need anything, then?"
"Mm.. aren't you still in London?"
"Nah, got the train this morning. I can leave you alone if you want."
"Yeah.. you did, yeah. Uh.. what do you need? Chocolate, ice cream?"
When he spoke those magical words, you bit your lip as you considered the offer before shaking your head. "No, I'm okay."
"I'm not going to make you drive an hour just to bring me stuff that I don't even need, there's a shop right down the-"
"Fuckin' hell, girl, stop being so bloody difficult, yeah? I want to do it."
With a soft sigh, suppressing a smile, you hummed, "Okay.."
"Yeah? Good. What d'you want, then?"
"Oh, that's helpful," he breathed out through a laugh as you turned over onto your stomach with a quiet hum.
"Just... maybe Ben and Jerry's?"
"Yes please. But don't get it until you're close, cause it'll melt."
"Yeah thanks for that, Einstein," he laughed again.
"Shut up," you giggled. "Don't drive like an idiot."
An hour later, you'd showered, tidied up downstairs a bit and flopped onto the sofa, now just waiting. Despite the annoyance of your period, you couldn't quite quell the excitement that bubbled in you at the thought of seeing Alfie again, of him seeing your space, and all because he wanted to do something for you.
Thankfully, before you could get carried away, the ringing of your phone saved your sanity.
Answering, you heard a groan, a series of mutterings about some "fucking stupid thing..", then "Yo, girl! This place is like a maze, where the fuck do I go?"
"Just went past big Tesco," he hummed.
"Oh, you're close.. sort of. You went the wrong way."
"Satnav's fault.." he grunted in a quick defense.
"Okay," you laughed softly. "Well, you can just turn at the post office and follow the road back."
"Post office.. yeah, alright. Now what?"
"Just stay on that road till you see the Gregg's, then turn left and you'll be on my road."
"I dunno, I can't find this fucking Greggs. Seriously, this is well confusing, girl. Why d'you live in a fuc- oh, nevermind, found it."
You laughed softly and stood from the sofa when you heard the rumbling of his Defender cut off, moving to the front door and pulling it open, waving him over with a smile.
Alfie stalked his way through your front door, still complaining about the confusing roads as if you'd paved them yourself. He followed you to the kitchen and tipped the plastic bag upside down onto your counter. Countless packets of chocolate, a multibag of Walkers, and various sweets all fell out and he looked up at you, eyes gentle as you just stared down at the mass of snacks.
Your eyes so wide you felt they might bulge out of your skull, you snapped your gaze up to him. "You didn't have to buy the whole bloody shop!"
He just shrugged, smirking slightly as you looked back at the pile of sweet treats then at him again.
"How much did you even pay for all this?"
"My expenses are my business, girl. Just be grateful and dig in."
"Seriously, girl. I'll forcefeed ya if I have to."
"Alfie.." your low tone paired with a strict look seemed to be effective, as he ducked his head and rubbed at his neck. "Like thirty quid.."
"Thirty quid?! Are you mad?"
"Well, more like twenty five... you ain't paying me back though."
"Yes the fuck I am, idiot,"
Smirking, Alfie rolled his eyes and nudged your arm over the counter. "Whatever,"
Bickering finally subsided, you led Alfie to the living room and curled yourself back up under your heated blanket, his form taking up half of the sofa beside you. "You didn't have to come all this way.."
"I know," he nodded slowly and your eyes drifted to his arm when he stretched it out behind you. "Was bored at home anyway."
"What.. do you wanna do, then? Watch a film?"
"Yeah, we can watch a film, if you want," Alfie hummed, taking the remote you offered, smiling as you opened your tub of Ben and Jerry's, scraping into the ice cream with a grin on your lips.
Despite your best efforts, you didn't make it even halfway through Batman, head lolling off your shoulder, mouth agape, thigh pressed against his, a little snore drawing Alfie's attention. His tilted his head down, smiling at the look of you like this, so open, so soft and sweet as you slept. Shifting, he guided your head onto his shoulder and gently ran his fingers through a tangle in the ends of your hair.
Waking up alone sucked. Especially after you didn't even remember falling asleep. Your eyes drifted open as you shifted on the sofa, turning your head with a low grumble and grasping your phone, seeing the notifications on Snapchat from Alfie, among a series of others that you decided were entirely unimportant next to his.
'had to head to my mums for tea'
'posted your keys through the door'
The smile that spanned your face was an easy thing, as they always were whenever he was involved.
'sorry for falling asleep like that'
'dont worry about it u were tired anyway'
Alfie chuckled at that, shoving his phone under his thigh when his mum's attention was pulled away from Pablo and Chica. "Is that a girl?" she beamed at the idea.
Scoffing, he shook his head and crossed his arms, looking every bit the little boy who would have dedicated his entire ten years to protesting leaving a sleepover the next morning, who sulked upon finding she preferred tulips to lillies after he'd gotten them for her on Mother's Day when he was eight, who had never been one to talk about girls because, honestly, what was there to talk about?
"Maybe..." he admitted reluctantly under the stiff look she held onto.
After quickly shutting the door, she scurried to his side and plopped down on the sofa next to him. "Let me see, then! Come on!"
At least the pictures would distract her from his burning cheeks.
"Fine, but.. we're just mates," he huffed out, pulling his phone up and finding your Instagram quickly, swiping through one of your recent posts of yourself on a picnic date with the girls from sixth form, sitting on a chequered blanket in a lush field, yet it was you that illuminated the entire image.
"Awww! She's gorgeous, Alfie! You'd have such cute babies!"
"Sorry, sorry. We're really just mates, though."
"Well, whatever you are, just don't mess her around, okay? If you want to ask her out, go do it, otherwise you'll be left wondering 'what if' forever, and that's never good."
"Yeah, yeah," he bristled, shaking his head slightly. "Sure, mum, thanks."
She laughed softly and gave his arm a brief pat. "Now show me more. And tell me everything you know."
