"I cannot believe I let you talk me into coming," Arthur groaned in the passenger seat of Francis' car.
"But you look so adorable in your suit," Francis grinned from the driver's seat. Arthur rolled his eyes. They were both in suits, going to some party for some aristocrat named Jones. According to Francis, it was a masquerade. Which was the only reason Arthur let him put a mask and top hat on him. He felt like an idiot, that's for sure.
"Do not call me adorable," Arthur snapped. "And I'm saying this again, I'm not here on a date with you, frog! I'm only here because it got me out of chores, okay?"
"Don't be so harsh," Francis laughed. "I am only here for a good time. I just decided that someone as stuck up as you needed to unwind."
"I am not stuck up," Arthur snapped.
"Sure you aren't," Francis chuckled.
"Do you even know who this party is for?" Arthur asked, choosing to stay away from the subject. He wasn't in the mood for another fight with Francis today. They had both narrowly escaped bruises earlier today when the top hat came into question.
"It's being hosted by an Alfred F. Jones," Francis stated.
"Do you know what the F stands for?" Arthur sighed.
"Non," Francis chuckled. "I don't think anyone does."
"Do you know what he looks like?" Arthur asked.
"Why? Are you going to try to find him and ask for money?" Francis chuckled.
"I would like to know what the bloody host looks like," Arthur snapped as Francis turned into what Arthur could have sworn was a gated community. But, as they drove down the road and the forest of trees thinned, there was just one, massive house at the end. "Jesus Christ…" Arthur muttered, staring at the mass of the mansion. It looked like just about 100 of his houses but together.
Francis just laughed. "My first reaction, too."
"How many times have you gone to parties like this?" Arthur asked, amazed.
"A lot," Francis said happily. "A lot of things can happen for you if you're actually social."
"Oh, shut up," Arthur snapped. He was starting to feel slightly self-conscious now. How fancy was this party? He pulled down the visor from the ceiling of the car and looked at himself through the mirror. All you could see was the bottom of his face, thanks to the white top hat with a red stripe across the bottom and white mask. Through his mask, his emerald eyes shone brightly. He looked down at his plain, white suit and red tie and started to straighten out invisible wrinkles. He felt weird in a white suit, but Arthur didn't own a suit and Francis said it was all he had that would fit him.
"You do know you look fine, right?" Francis chuckled and Arthur noticed the car stopped. He slammed the visor back up.
"Yes, I know," Arthur sighed. Francis' suit was black with a simple black tie. It was weird seeing him wear something so normal.
"And this," Francis pulled out his phone from his pocket and messed with it for a while before presenting the screen to Arthur. It showed the picture of a young man, roughly the same age as him, with sandy blonde, ragged hair with an odd cowlick coming out of the front and sky blue eyes. He looked tan, rather handsome, and, more than anything, he looked like he didn't care about anything in the world. He looked happy, sure, but he looked like he wouldn't take anything seriously. "Is Alfred F. Jones. I've had the pleasure of meeting him once or twice."
"Really?" Arthur snorted. "And how did that go?" Francis, an obnoxious prick, and Alfred, a kid who didn't care, meeting up. That would be interesting.
"He's better at conversations that you would expect," Francis shrugged as he put the phone away. Arthur finally looked out the window to see the reason they stopped was because of the line of cars waiting for valet. How big was this party? "You know, I learned that he was gay."
"Is that the only reason you brought me here?" Arthur snapped. He felt the car move slightly as they went up in the line. Francis was the only person that knew Arthur was gay and he had tried more than once to set him up. Once with Francis. Not going there.
"Oh, non, non, non," Francis laughed as he tried to calm Arthur down. "I brought you here so you could have a good time. I doubt you will meet him in the first place." Arthur glared out the window at the other guests. He found it slightly odd that all of the guests he saw were wearing black. Even the women were wearing black evening dresses. Arthur was sure it was just a coincidence. "He will probably be very busy in a party this size."
"Better not be another set up," Arthur rolled his eyes. "Fat chance some aristocrat-"
"Lord," Francis corrected. They went up in line again. "He's a lord, Arthur."
"I highly doubt a lord would have any interest in me," Arthur glared at Francis. He always hated being corrected by idiots.
They went up again in line after a long silence and Francis suspiciously grinning next to Arthur. Francis stepped out of the car, cueing Arthur to open the door and step out as well. He watched impatiently as Francis handed the Valet his keys and they walked into the party together.
Arthur didn't look at the other partygoers at first, just looking at the intricacy of the house. It seemed like everything was trimmed in gold and made of porcelain. All of the doors looked like they were made of oak or ebony or some kind of amazing wood. In the giant dance hall, there were four stair cases, one in each corner, made of marble that matched the floor at the bottom of the ballroom. There were practically 20 chandeliers that looked like they were made of diamonds dazzling and sparkling above the dancers. They were all dancing some intricate dance to some amazing classical song coming from a giant orchestra off to one side of the room. On the opposite side was a long table with food and drinks.
When the two made it to the spot in the middle of two staircases, Arthur finally paid attention to all the other guests. All of the men were in black suits. And all of the women were in black dresses. Every single one of them was wearing black. Except Arthur.
"Francis, I will bloody kill you!" Arthur snapped just as Francis quickly retreated down the staircase to the left. Now Arthur felt like an idiot.
He was the sore thumb at an incredibly fancy party and his only ride had just disappeared until midnight, when Arthur had to be taken home. Arthur didn't even know how to drive, if he could somehow get Francis' stupid car from valet. His house was too far away to walk to…
And everyone was giving him strange looks, almost as if he had some kind of third eye.
Blushing, he quickly made his way down the same stairs Francis retreated down. At least everyone was wearing a mask. At least he was wearing a mask. No one knew who he was. That thought relieved pounds off Arthur's back. At least he wasn't being an idiot in front of people that knew him.
But he would still have to strangle Francis next time he saw him.
On Arthur's way to the food table, he had several people come up to talk with him. It was friendly conversation, though, and his suit never came up. Most of them were lovely people, far older than Arthur was. All of them wore masks, black ones, which made Arthur feel slightly awkward.
However, when he was just about to reach the table, some obnoxious fat woman came up and talked to him. She wore a black dress that went down to her ankles that tried to show off her curves, but there were obviously too many for her to handle. She had a ginormous black hat with a huge black feather coming out of it. And she had one of those fancy masks that was held up by a stick, which she held with just her thumb and fore finger. The other fingers stuck out straight and dramatically. Her eyes and hair were both a dull brown and it was obvious she was wearing too much make-up.
"You are aware you were supposed to come dressed in black to this ball, correct?" she asked rather rudely, stepping between Arthur and the table.
"Yes, I am aware of that now," Arthur said politely.
"Well, aren't you a strange, little one?" she leaned forward and Arthur could smell smoke on her breath.
"I…guess?" Arthur tried not to breathe in the fumes of her breath. Was she some kind of upstanding aristocrat, too? Must have, from the looks of how expensive all she had on was.
"You have no manners, do you boy?" she spat right on Arthur's face.
"My apologies, then," Arthur tried very hard to stay polite and not wipe it off his face just yet. "I will try to-" she cut him off.
"So, what country is that accent from?" she asked rudely and Arthur could feel his eye twitch. "Australia? Canada?" Arthur could tell she was just trying to make him angry now. That or she was just an idiot with a bad attitude. Each syllable from her mouth sounded like she was forcing it out. And she looked around like no one here was worth her time. Especially Arthur.
"I believe the country is England, ma'am," Arthur said cautiously.
"Why, I never!" the woman shouted, making Arthur cringe. He had enough attention on him anyway. "Who are you to correct me, boy?"
"My apologies, ma'am," Arthur tried.
"Do I look like a ma'am to you?" she snapped and Arthur sighed inwardly. What did she want in the first place anyway? To be able to say she talked to the strange boy dressed in white? "I am a governess! Thank you very much."
"I am deeply sorry I offended you," Arthur tried. To be honest, this lady was getting on his nerves. But he didn't want to make any more of a scene than she was making it out to be. Maybe that's why she came over. To make a scene and draw attention to her.
She harrumphed, which almost made Arthur chuckle. "I cannot believe some kid with a fake accent is being so rude to someone like me," she said that louder than she had to, but that swipe at his accent made Arthur cringe. She turned towards her friends behind her. "I wonder who had the nerve to invite someone as incompetent as this to such a magnificent party!"
Arthur took a deep breath as she walked away. She definitely just came over for the attention. She could have it, for all Arthur cared. He quickly stalked over to the table, thinking rather rude thoughts in her direction.
The more he thought about it, the angrier he got, he noticed. It took all the self-control he had not to slam food onto the plate he gathered at the food table.
"Hey," a man's voice said behind him when he got to the middle of the table.
"What?" Arthur snapped, not looking up at the man. He felt his hat tip down slightly, and used one hand to tip it back up. One good thing about this hat was that it hid his massive eyebrows. That was the only reason he kept the stupid thing on, it hid his largest insecurity.
"Whoa, I just wanted to talk dude," the man chuckled. Arthur noticed that his voice seemed like an obnoxious American's voice. Arthur turned to look at him and noticed that he looked exactly like the man in the picture Francis showed him. He had the cowlick, the hair, the eyes. He wasn't even wearing a mask. This was definitely Alfred F. Jones. Arthur blinked a few times. "I noticed how the fat, old lady treated you and figured you needed a good conversation to cheer you up." Alfred smiled, flashing perfectly white teeth. He was far more attractive in person, Arthur noticed.
"Fine, then," Arthur sighed. He stayed standing where he was and completely forgot about his plate full of food. He was still in a foul mood.
"You know," Alfred chuckled. "I figured that a man who showed up in a white tux to an all black tux party would actually be in a good mood. You know, willing to party and stuff. I should have thought of doing something like that. Wear a red suit or something. But Mattie would never let me wear something like that…"
"I think not wearing a mask is enough to get you to stand out," Arthur stated, bored.
"So, you're British?" Alfred changed the subject.
"Yes," Arthur said flatly.
"Okay, I'll give you a little hint here," Alfred chuckled. "When someone wants to talk with you, it's only polite to at least try to carry a conversation."
"Well, I'm sorry you aren't carrying a good enough conversation," Arthur shrugged.
"I'll try a different tactic here," Alfred crossed his arms in front of himself. Arthur noticed that the suit he was wearing was extremely nice. It was probably custom made just for him. "I'm the host at this party, so you have to talk to me."
"Is that a threat?" Arthur asked.
"Depends if you do what I want," Alfred grinned and Arthur rolled his eyes. The song going on in the background finished and a new one started. Quickly, Alfred grabbed onto Arthur's wrist and pulled him onto the dance floor.
"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Arthur snapped and tried to dig his heels into the floor to slow him down. It did nothing. How strong was this Alfred?
"What does it look like?" Alfred stopped when they reached the middle of the dance floor. Before Arthur could even react, Alfred put a hand on the small of Arthur's back and pulled him close. He used the other hand to hold onto Arthur's hand. "I'm making you dance with me."
"No," Arthur said flatly and tried in vain to wrench his hand away from Alfred.
"Hey," Alfred said, releasing Arthur's hand, but keeping his other hand on Arthur's back. He used the hand to tilt up Arthur's hat, which Arthur quickly tapped back down before he could see his eyebrows. "I'm the host, you should do what I want."
"You can't make me dance," Arthur challenged.
"Watch me," Alfred grinned and grabbed onto Arthur's hand again. On the beat, he took a huge step backwards, his hand on Arthur's back making Arthur move with him. He turned to the side and Arthur was forced to move with him. They moved around like that for a while, until Arthur gave up and stepped with him.
Arthur had never really danced like this before, so he was constantly looking down at his feet to make sure he didn't step on Alfred.
"You know, I don't care about these shoes very much," Alfred chuckled. "So I don't care if you step on me."
Arthur looked up at Alfred. "Oh, so you wouldn't mind if I did this?" Arthur waited until Alfred took a step back. And Arthur, as his step forward, moved his foot quickly, and a tad too high, resulting in kicking Alfred in the shin.
"Okay, that was on purpose," Alfred laughed, but he winced at the same time.
"Indeed it was," Arthur couldn't help but find himself laughing.
"So you can smile!" Alfred announced. "I knew you could, somewhere deep in there."
"It's not that hard for me to have a good time," Arthur rolled his eyes. Francis would definitely beg to differ with that statement.
"As long as you have someone cool like me around," Alfred winked.
"I would have been fine with that plate of food you took me from and sitting in the corner," Arthur scoffed.
"Ah, but you see," Alfred laughed, trying and failing to copy Arthur's accent, "this is so much better than that could ever have been."
"You have yet to prove that to me," Arthur grinned.
"Well, I'm gonna," Alfred laughed and took this chance to use his hand connected to Arthur's to spin him.
"I am not playing the girl role here," Arthur stated as Alfred brought him back, close to him.
"You can say that when you can spin me," Alfred challenged.
Arthur sighed, but he still laughed. He couldn't help it. This Alfred was…interesting.
***Page Break***
They danced around for a while. Hours, even. And Alfred could honestly say that he could look at his mystery man's face for eternity and never get tired of it. And he could only see half of it. He had that cool, white top hat on and that cool, white mask that made his emerald eyes pop like fireworks. Just underneath his hat, there was some blonde hair sticking out. Alfred loved blonde hair, but when he asked his masked man to take off his hat, he refused.
They talked the whole time they danced, too. And Alfred refused to change partners the whole night. This mystery man was his and no one else's.
"As this is your party, shouldn't you at least try to talk to the others?" the man chuckled as Alfred refused another offer to dance.
"Well, you're the only one here dressed in white," Alfred winked at him. "No one else here is cool enough to have me talk to them."
"I'm starting to think you might have a crush on me," the man said, his beautiful accent like music to Alfred's ears.
"Is that a crack at how I'm gay?" Alfred raised an eyebrow.
"Only if it doesn't offend you," the man laughed.
"Hey, do you know what I've always wanted to do?" Alfred asked and quickly checked around to make sure that they were still in the center of the ballroom.
"What?" the man asked and the clock struck midnight behind them.
"This," Alfred couldn't help but smile. He dropped the man's hand and used his free hand to cup the man's chin. And then he quickly leaned forward and connected their lips, his eyes closed. He could feel the man freeze for a second, before he started kissing back.
Alfred could hear the party practically stop around him and it almost made him smile. He had always wanted to be a show stopper. There were very few people that knew Alfred was gay, and now he was hoping that everyone at this party did.
Alfred separated them after a while, but it didn't feel like long enough. "What the bloody hell did you do that for?" the man snapped, but there was no anger in his voice. Alfred noticed that a small smile traced across his face.
"I'd say it's about time everyone knows I'm gay," Alfred smiled. "And it might as well be from kissing someone I genuinely like. A lot."
"Well," the man muttered and Alfred noticed that his face was turning a deep red, "I…I…"
"So, mind telling me your name, stranger?" Alfred chuckled, deciding to change the subject.
The man opened his mouth to reply, but someone came up quickly behind him and yanked the man away.
"We have to go," the man said quickly, panic evident in his voice. He looked very familiar to Alfred. Long, blonde hair, blue eyes, a flirting air about him.
"I frankly don't care about your problems, Francis," the man snapped.
"Francis," Alfred muttered. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"
"Oui," Francis said quickly and then turned his attention back to the man. "We have to go now."
"What the hell did you do this time?" the man snapped.
"Nothing that concerns you," Francis said quickly and then started dragging the man along.
"Francis, let me go!" the man snapped, but he was soon being dragged up the stairs. Alfred quickly ran after the two, following them up the stairs. Alfred would have lost them in the crowd, if his mystery man wasn't wearing white. He was able to constantly find that white hat anywhere.
That is, until some woman came up to Alfred, completely blocking his line of sight.
"Alfred Jones, correct?" the woman asked, but Alfred didn't even bother to look at her. He tried to step around her, but she stayed in his way. He had to look around her and watch as his mystery man got away.
"Yeah," Alfred said, extremely distracted. "Could I get back to you in just a second, I have…" the white disappeared in the mass of black. "I have something I have to find."
"It's just a quick question," the woman said. Alfred noticed that her voice reminded him a lot of a news reporter.
"No time," Alfred said and finally got to a point where she wasn't in his way and started running where he saw his mystery man disappear. But he wasn't there. Alfred looked around frantically, but all he could see were black suits and black dresses. He even ran outside, trying to find him.
When he got out there, all of the cars and the people looked the same. Until, he saw a flash of white off to the left. He focused over there and he saw his mystery man being shoved into a car by that Francis person.
"Wait!" he called out, but Francis didn't even look back. The mystery man did, which resulted in his top hat falling off, and something else clattered to the ground. That car door closed and Francis retreated to the other side. Alfred started running faster towards the car. But, by the time he made it to where it was, the car was gone.
Several women appeared soon behind Alfred, all shouting after his car. "Dammit, Farncis!" "I'll kill you!" "Bastard!"
Alfred looked down at the ground, the white top hat laid on its side. He leaned down to pick it up and found that there was a phone underneath it. It was a simple, green flip phone. Alfred picked that up too and, standing upright, flipped it open. There was just a British flag as the background.
He quickly went through the contact list, and there were only three contacts on it. Francis, Peter, and Scott.
"Alfred, there you are," Alfred turned around at the sound of his brother's voice. All of the women around Alfred were starting to yell at each other.
"That scene you just made in there is causing a lot of problems," Mathew scolded and Alfred looked back down at the phone. "You need to go fix your mess."
"What mess?" Alfred chuckled. "That was exactly what I wanted to happen."
"Well, who was that?" Mathew asked.
"No idea," Alfred put the hat on his head. "But you're gonna help me find out."
***Page Break***
Alfred wacked his head against the side of the car. "Why is this so hard?" he whined, each word coinciding with a bang of his head.
"Alfred, you shouldn't do that, you'll kill your brain cells," Mathew reminded him kindly next to him.
"I won't need brain cells when I find him," Alfred sighed, relenting on his head. He was getting a headache. "Because my brain just shuts down whenever I think about him and it will be even worse when I know his name." Alfred stared down at the phone.
"You do realize that it would be a lot easier to just call one of the people on that phone, right?" Mathew sighed.
"But this is so much more fun!" Alfred said happily. He had dragged his poor brother all across the city they lived in. Alfred supposed by the looks of the car his mystery man and Francis drove off in that they couldn't have drove in from any other city. But Alfred didn't have the patience for something like this. Going door to door, trying to find that man was not as fun as it looked in that Cinderella movie. "It'll be so much more romantic if I find him like this."
Currently, their driver was taking them across a long street that was filled with shops, so he had time to rest.
"Are you sure you'll even be able to find him?" Mathew asked as Alfred started flipping the phone open and closed.
"Oh, I'm positive," Alfred flashed his winning hero smile at his brother. "I'm the hero and the hero always gets the girl in the end. Or…in this case, the guy."
"I still don't think that was the appropriate situation to come out of the closet," Mathew mumbled. "That was supposed to be a simple party."
"And I think I made it more fun," Alfred winked. "What harm does it do?"
"You do realize half of the states in America are against gays, right?" Mathew raised an eyebrow. "Mom and Dad worked so hard creating a company that spans all the way across the United States. Now, I'm pretty sure half of our customers are gonna switch to something else. And then there's the stocks after that happens…"
"You do realize we're kids, right?" Alfred sat upright in his chair, staring at his brother. "We're 17, Mattie. We're supposed to screw up and piss off our parents. I say you should live like a kid now and leave the grown up stuff for when you get there."
"Alfred, I'm just thinking about our future," Mathew sighed. "We are going to be in charge of the company someday and I want to make sure it stays successful."
"Would you prefer I came out of the closet in some lame way like a press conference when I'm 30?" Alfred chuckled. "I can't keep it bottled up forever and I think it's more forgivable when I'm a kid, yeah?"
"I just think you should think before you act next time," Mathew sighed.
"Believe it or not, I put a lot of thought into that," Alfred smiled, staring back down at the phone. "This guy is perfect and I swear I can see myself being with him forever."
"You love to dream, don't you?" Mathew chuckled.
"No, seriously!" Alfred leaned towards him. "When I was talking at him and all that stuff, it just felt…right, I guess? And, the more I think about him, the more I can't help but think that he's perfect. And that kiss was the best I had ever had, and all it was was pretty much a peck, so that tells you something, right?"
"How many people have you kissed?" Mathew asked questioningly.
"Too many to count, dude," Alfred laughed. "Don't tell him that, though, okay?"
"Are you so sure we'll find him today?" Mathew asked.
"Well, I would say we've made it through about half the city so far, right?" Alfred smiled.
"More like a third," Mathew sighed. "It's bigger than you think, Alfred."
"Whatever," Alfred said with a wave of his hand. "The sun is still pretty high in the sky and with the rate we're going, I'm pretty sure we'll find him before it gets too late in a day."
"I really doubt you can search the entire city in a day," Mathew said.
"The guy in Cinderella did," Alfred chimed happily just as the car stopped. "Or did he? I'm not sure..." He glanced out the tinted window and saw that it looked like some kind of small town house at the end of a very long street. He sighed deeply. In the front of the house, it seemed like there was bushes that surrounded a garden and it looked like someone was working in it.
"Do I have to come with you this time?" Mathew asked.
"I have an idea," Alfred said. "You only have to come with me for the first and last house in each neighborhood. Sound good?"
"Sure," Mathew sighed and unbuckled, opening the door and stepping out. Alfred followed, waltzing up to the front door. Mathew stayed on the sidewalk.
"You know that's not really 'with me,' right," Alfred called over to him and Mathew shrugged. Alfred sighed, ringing the doorbell. He glanced over at the gardener, only to see him suddenly stiffen and hide his face behind the bushes.
"Yeah?" someone answering the door turned Alfred's attention away from the gardener.
"Hi!" Alfred said happily and then got his first good look at the man in the doorway. He had fiery red hair all messed up and emerald eyes. He looked very tall and extremely impatient. He was wearing a very messy looking dress shirt rolled up past his elbows and with the top few buttons unbuttoned, a black vest covering it, and grey skinny jeans with no shoes. He was holding a cigarette and puffed smoke into Alfred's face. It smelled like a mixture of alcohol and tobacco.
This definitely wasn't him, Alfred decided quickly. His man was blonde and didn't wreak of cigarettes and a bar. However, those eyes were a perfect match.
"Whaddya want?" the man snapped irritably, leaning against the doorway. He took a long drag of his cigarette.
"Um, okay, this is gonna sound kinda weird," Alfred awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. "But, I danced with this guy last night and I've been trying to find him all day and…I was wondering if anyone in this house lost a phone?"
"No," the man said simply and the door quickly closed.
"Well, then," Alfred coughed, waving the smoke away from his face. "That was nice…" Alfred rolled his eyes and turned back towards the car, shaking his head towards Mathew.
Out of the corner of his eye, Alfred saw the gardener stand up and move towards the front door. Alfred quickly turned to him, maybe this person would be a little more polite. This man was wearing simple jeans and a dark green dress shirt rolled up past his elbows. His hands were covered in dirt, as were the knees of his jeans and his rain boots he was wearing. What mattered the most to Alfred was the fact that he had blonde hair and those perfect emerald eyes.
"Hey, wait," Alfred turned around and stepped between the man and the door. Alfred couldn't hide his smile, this man was the perfect height, too.
"Yes, what is it?" the man asked impatiently and Alfred fought not to jump up and down in excitement. The voice was perfect, the tone and the accent.
"I just have a few quick questions, okay?" Alfred said quickly before the man could step over to the side. "Then I'll let ya go, okay?"
"Fine, but make it quick," the man muttered quietly and Alfred noticed that he wouldn't look up at him.
"Okay, please answer these truthfully, okay?" Alfred asked and the man nodded. He was getting so excited, he couldn't help but overuse the world 'okay.' "So, have you lost a phone recently?"
"Yes," the man sighed.
"Could you tell me what it looked like? Like the color and the type or whatever?" Alfred smiled.
"A green flip phone," the man sighed once more and Alfred's smile grew bigger.
"Okay, so," Alfred pulled out the phone from his pocket, "I found this yesterday after I was dancing with someone. And I've been dying to find them," at this, the man finally looked up, disbelief tracing his face. "So, I just want to make sure this is your phone, because it definitely came from the person I'm looking for. So…how many contacts are in it?"
"Three," the man stated and Alfred could see the trace of a smile on the tips of his mouth.
"Could you name them for me?" Alfred asked.
"Peter," the man said slowly, the smile on his face becoming bigger, "Scott, and Francis."
"I'm sorry, but that's wrong," Alfred sighed, trying his hardest to sound disappointed. "There are four contacts. Peter, Scott, Francis, and Alfred."
The smile not leaving the man's face, he swiped the phone out of Alfred's hands. "I didn't think I was worth searching for…" he mumbled.
"Oh, you totally were," Alfred smiled, using a finger to lift up the man's chin so that he finally looked up all the way. And then Alfred softly connected their lips. The man responded by looping his arms around Alfred's neck and kissing him back.
They could have stayed like that forever, for all Alfred cared, but the man from before yelling at them made them separate. "Oi, you gits stop making out on my lawn," he shouted angrily and Alfred could already smell the smoke.
"Alfred," the man chuckled and Alfred noticed that he didn't move his arms, "this is my older brother."
"I can see the resemblance," Alfred laughed and they finally separated. "So, what do I have to do to finally hear your name? Do I have to go on my knees and beg?"
"Arthur," the mystery man chuckled. "Arthur Kirkland."
"And so my dreams finally have a name," Alfred smiled.
"Arthur!" a familiar, French voice sounded off and Arthur groaned, turning towards the voice so that Alfred was standing behind him. He had no problem seeing over his head, though, as he was so short. "I heard that Alfred Jones is out searching for his mystery…" Francis stopped walking where he was on the street, next to Mathew. "...man..."
"A little late with the news there, dude," Alfred called over.
"So, I take it this is your man?" Mathew asked and Francis looked shocked that there was actually someone standing there.
"Yup!" Alfred smiled, hugging Arthur from behind protectively. "His name's Arthur!"
"So, can you deal with having to look at his massive eyebrows all day?" Francis laughed. "Now that he's no longer masked, he's a lot more hideous, non?"
"No one asked you, frog!" Arthur snapped at him, his hands quickly going up to cover up the eyebrows Alfred barely noticed before.
"I gotta say that they'll be a little hard to look away from," Alfred smiled, moving Arthur's hands away. "They're just so damn sexy."
Arthur tilted his head back so that they were looking into each other's eyes again. "Really?" Arthur asked.
"Totally," Alfred said, kissing his forehead.
"Adorable," Francis muttered.
"I think so," Mathew piped up.
"So," Alfred said happily, stepping to Arthur's side and wrapping his arm around his side. "Now that the heroic prince has finally found his Cinderella, we go off to the castle!"
"I'm not a bloody girl, Alfred," Arthur rolled his eyes. "And it's a mansion, not a castle."
"Will you let me have my fantasies?" Alfred laughed.
"What makes you compare me to Cinderella?" Arthur asked.
"Well, we met at a party where you blew me away and left at around midnight," Alfred smiled. "And then, in your haste to leave, you left a way for me to find you in this lovely kingdom," Alfred picked up his usual narrator voice for situations like this. He started leading Arthur towards the car, which he obviously didn't notice. "And, when I finally find my dream come true, I find that you're not some fantastic aristocrat, but a person in rags, covered in dirt."
"Should I take offence to that?" Arthur inquired.
"And then," Alfred continued, "the prince takes his damsel back to his glorious home for him to live in a life of luxury away from his evil family."
"Wait, what?" Arthur obviously just realized that they were right next to the car just as Alfred opened up the door.
"Don't worry," Alfred smiled as he shoved Arthur into the car. "The life of luxury's actually not half bad."
"You are not just going to whisk my away from my home," Arthur protested, but Alfred closed the door and turned towards the guy, who was still in the doorway, smoking a cigarette.
"This cool with you?" Alfred yelled over to him.
"Good riddance," the man sighed and the door slammed closed again.
"Nice family, Artie," Alfred chuckled to himself. "Kay, Mattie! Time to go home!"
"Isn't this kidnapping?" Mathew laughed, but went over to the other side of the car anyway.
"As long as he doesn't get away, we have no problems," Alfred winked, then turned his attention towards Francis, who was laughing on the sidewalk. "Hey, so you're the one that brought him to the party, right?"
"Oui," Francis spoke proudly.
"So, I know you crashed that one, 'caust I didn't invite you," Alfred laughed. "And then that one where you kissed me, which was nasty, by the way, was crashed, too. And I've seen you around a lot of other parites, none of them you were invited to..."
"Ah, but you know you enjoyed my company," Francis smiled. "And the company I brought."
Alfred rolled his eyes. "As my thanks for bringing him," Alfred tilted his head towards Arthur in the car, "consider yourself invited to the rest of the parties, 'kay? Just try to bring Mattie one next time."
And, with that, Alfred ducked inside the car, next to Arthur, who was huffed over in the middle seat.
"This is kidnapping," Arthur pointed out.
"To the castle!" Alfred ordered the driver, pointing out the windshield. "So the prince can live happily ever after with his Cinderella!"
***Author's Note***
Hey, dudes! Happy Bastille Day! Celebrating France, with a USUK fanfic! That's how it's done, eh? However, I did give Francis a major roll in it! He got to play match maker!
Oh, and this one-shot counts as my fic based on Cinderella, as the plot was pretty much exactly the same. So, that's what all this is about. If you're interested, I have a USUK fic based on Little Mermaid, if you haven't read that already. You should check it out, it's called "Kidnapped."
Reviews are the very best kind of love and France would be proud of you for doing it.
I don't own Hetalia or Cinderella.