We Promise To Behave - Alfie Buttle
You and Alfie swear you’ll behave.
It’s filmed on the set of The Fellas podcast bright lights, big table, mics clipped on, cameras close enough to catch every tiny reaction. Across from you sit Calfreezy and Chip, both already suspicious before the episode’s even started.
“Professional,” Alfie says quietly before the cameras roll, giving you a pointed look.
“Obviously,” you reply.
You’re lying. Both of you.
The intro starts. Freezy’s in full host mode. Chip’s relaxed, leaning back, ready to stir something up if needed.
Alfie’s knee presses against yours under the table almost immediately.
You don’t move it.
He doesn’t either.
He’s nodding along to whatever Freezy’s saying, pretending he’s focused, but his fingers hover dangerously close to your thigh. Not touching. Just resting there like he’s testing his own self-control.
You shift slightly closer.
His jaw tightens.
“Don’t,” he mutters without turning his head.
“I’m not doing anything,” you whisper back.
Chip pauses mid-sentence. “Why do you two look guilty already?”
“We don’t,” Alfie says too quickly.
Freezy squints at you both. “It’s been thirty seconds.”
You sit up straighter, innocent expression locked in. Alfie clears his throat and forces himself to focus.
It lasts about two minutes.
You laugh at something and grab his arm instinctively. Your fingers linger. His hand comes up automatically to cover yours, thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles before he even realises what he’s doing.
Freezy leans back in his chair slowly. “Brother.”
You both separate like you’ve been caught passing notes in class.
“Carry on,” Alfie mutters, trying to look normal.
He answers the next question wrong. Completely wrong. Chip bursts out laughing.
“You’re not listening at all,” Chip says, pointing at him. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Alfie replies, but his voice is rougher now.
Midway through the episode, you lean in to whisper something harmless genuinely harmless but your lips hover just a little too close to his ear. His hand slides to your waist instinctively, fingers pressing in slightly like he needs grounding.
He inhales sharply.
“Behave,” he murmurs, low enough only you can hear.
“You behave,” you reply.
Freezy stops talking. Just stares at you both.
“There is insane tension right now,” he says flatly.
“There isn’t,” Alfie insists.
There absolutely is.
Under the table, your thigh brushes his again this time deliberate. His hand grips your knee lightly, steady but firm.
“If you don’t stop,” he mutters quietly, eyes flicking to you, “I’m actually going to lose focus.”
“You already have.”
Chip leans forward. “Why do I feel like we shouldn’t be here?”
Freezy shakes his head. “I’m separating you next time.”
You both try to behave after that. You genuinely try. Sitting upright. Hands to yourselves. Looking forward.
But every time you laugh, you lean into him. Every time he shifts, his shoulder brushes yours. Every time there’s a pause in conversation, his fingers drift back to your waist like they belong there.
By the time Freezy finally says, “Right, that’s a wrap,” the tension is ridiculous.
Cameras click off.
The room relaxes.
Alfie stands and pulls you up with him without thinking. His hands settle on your waist immediately, like he’s been holding back the entire time.
“You’re impossible,” he says quietly, a faint smile tugging at his mouth.
“You didn’t move away,” you reply.
He steps closer, lowering his voice so only you hear.
“I didn’t want to.”
In the background, Freezy groans. “I’m banning couples.”
Chip laughs. “Next episode, opposite ends of the table.”
It wouldn’t matter.
Because the second you’re near each other — cameras or not you both forget there’s anyone else in the room.
