I miss your Punk Dad au so bad man 😭
Bro!!!!!! 😭
I've dug this small domestic piece of writing out of my archive from this au, I hope this can satisfy the hunger a little! ❤️❤️
Alfred’s backpack rustles noisily as he bounds up the stairs to the apartment.
He skips hurriedly two steps at a time. Clings to the handrail and swings himself forward, until he’s flying through the door and tossing his bag aside at the entrance.
“Dad!” He calls. Toeing his shoes off and running into the apartment, searching high and low like a mad man. He swings open every door and closes it as hurriedly as he’d opened it. “Daaaaad! Hello?”
“In here.”
Alfred stops and practically runs to the bathroom.
Arthur’s standing by the mirror. Back bent just slightly from the awkward height of it and turns with a frightened start at the way Alfred throws himself at the doorway.
“DAD, CAN I HAVE 30 POUNDS?”
Arthur stares wide eyed. Appalled in his Monday worst, he blinks to understand what he’s been asked right.
“Repeat that back to me, and give me a reason this time.”
Alfred heaves, gripping the doorway as he catches his breath.
“I need 30 Pound!”
“30 Pound-” Arthur squawks.
Alfred nods vehemently.
“Yes!- There’s a new album from Pink Floyd! It’s called The division bell and it’s focused on the guitarist!” He gasps and points an accusatory finger at Arthur. “You like the guitarist! You love guitar riffs!”
“Good lord, Al, you got a new cd last week-”
“BUT THAT WASN’T A PINK FLOYD ALBUM AND IT WAS SERIOUSLY ONLY 9 QUID, DAD!” Arthur leans onto the sink and Alfred runs both hands down his face.
“I even paid half of that 9 quid last week. You only had to lose about 4 quid, PLEASE!” Alfred falls dramatically to his knees, before flopping onto his stomach at Arthur’s feet.
His uniform is rumpled from running. His sock in one shoe is half way slipped off into the loafer and Arthur scratches his chin with one hand and looks down at the mess in exasperation.
“We are not made of money.”
“I know, but you’re always saying money comes back!”
“So will the cd.” Arthur hums. “It’s Pink Floyd, it’s not going to be taken off the shelf any time soon, let alone by next month. You can wait until then.”
Alfred whines.
Bemoaning his misery by grabbing hold of Arthur’s ankle and pulling himself to latch onto both of his legs.
“But my friends will have it and they’ll get to talk about it without me! And then I won’t get to hear it for the first time without having already spoiled it.”
Arthur tries to move one leg to flee, but fails. Alfred simply latches on tighter.
“That certainly sounds like a tragedy-”
“IT IS! PLEASE, DAD, I’ll do laundry or something for like, a month without allowance!”
Arthur laughs.
“You don’t earn 30 pounds of allowance in one month, make it 2 months, and I might consider it.”
Alfred groans pathetically.
“FINE! I’ll do the dishes too, then!”
Arthur grips the sink with both hands and struggles to get one single foot free without falling and steps towards the doorway with Alfred dangling along by his second leg.
“I’ll vacuum and dust the shelves and organize the vinyls and I’ll get the papers and letters in the letterbox every morning-”
“Alfred, let go of me-”
“FINE I’LL CLEAN THE FLOORS AND THE TOILET TOO-”
“ALFRED-”
“I’LL-”
Arthur leans down and grabs his face. Squishing his cheeks awkwardly to shut him up.
“Fine! But you won’t get any allowance from me for the next two months. You’ve borrowed those £30 from yourself, understand?”
Alfred looks up as Arthur lets go of his face.
Mega watt smile directed directly upwards from groveling at Arthur’s feet.
“SERIOUSLY?!”
Arthur huffs.
“Yes. Now let go of me, we’re getting Matthew from the-”
Alfred’s on his feet before he can finish and pounds towards his room.
“I’LL CHANGE AND THEN WE’LL GO! WE CAN STOP AT THE RECORD STORE ON THE WAY AND THEN YOU CAN BUY IT FOR ME!”
“What- No- The record store is not on the way-”
“IF WE LEAVE NOW, IT CAN BE! IT’S LIKE A 5 MINUTE DELAY IF THERE’S NO QUEUE!”
“If there’s no queue!” Arthur calls. “Of course there will be a queue!”
“If there’s a queue, we’ll get Matthew first and bring him with.” Alfred says, much less enthused. “But we can’t know if we don’t go check!”
Arthur sighs. A rough monday and 30 pound sterling poorer. “That album had better be good.”
Alfred emerges in a wildly mismatched set of shirts and pants. Still putting on a sock, he hops over.
“All of their albums are good!”
“Oh, don’t kid yourself, they’re not any kings or gods.”
“Neither are The Ramones or The Cure!”
Arthur gives him an indignant look and Alfred smirks.
“Cheeky brat…”
