I'm breaking my promise once again. But I have a good excuse for it!

To get rid of my writer's block. Yeah, that's it.

Anyhow, enjoy this piece of something you could consider a crack fic!

There was something in Arthur Kirkland's mind that wouldn't leave him. And it had everything to do with a certain American idiot. His idiot. Yes, just a few months ago Alfred F Jones had finally collected his guts to ask him out. They had a lot of fun between fighting over nothing and work. But Arthur knew there was something Alfred didn't tell him. No, not cheating or anything major like that, but there was no doubt something that the lad was hiding.

What caused him to come to this conclusion? Well, let's just say that whenever the git spent the night with him, in the morning when he woke up, his bed was always lacking something. Alfred. There had not been a single morning that he could have spend cuddling the said male, for he was never there. At first he just thought Alfred just had a habit of going to the bathroom first thing when he woke up, but as time went by, he started to become suspicious. Not that there wasn't times that the lad took his sweet time doing his business, but for half an hour every single morning? Not mentioning that he happened to always time it so Arthur would wake up after he'd fled the bed.

This had led him to believe that Alfred did something in the morning. Something he didn't want anyone to know. And he, Arthur Kirkland, United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, was going to find out what once and for all.

Ok, it was harder than he'd thought. It's like the lad had a sixth sense or something. No matter how early Arthur woke up, Alfred was always gone.

And he'd noticed something weird last night. In the middle of rough and wild sex, something about Alfred had suddenly seemed off. He couldn't place his finger on what, but it was like something was missing. And every time had ran his fingers through his hair, Alfred would quickly pull his hands away and place them on his shoulders or something similar. Another thing that had him puzzled was that before letting the sleep take him over, he'd noticed that his fingers were sticky with something, and it wasn't any body fluid that he'd know of.

But now his fingers were clean, and he wasn't the one to wipe them. So it must have been Alfred, who once again had fortified in the bathroom. He had just about had enough. He'd never intruded the bathroom while Alfred was using it, but this time he was ready to make an exception.

Ready or not Alfred, here I come.

Arthur tiptoed to the bathroom door and pressed his ear to the door. He could hear silent humming and something clattering against the marble counter. What, he liked the luxury, sawwy? Okay, time to invade Alfred's privacy a bit. Without announcing his presence, he slammed the door open and froze. What the bloody heck was this?

Alfred too went solid as a rock when he stared at his lover behind him via the mirror. His hands froze in midair and a nervous smile graced his handsome face.

"Uh, Arthur? I-I can explain this. It's not what it looks like!"

"… I knew that cowlick was too persistent to be natural!"

There was a clatter as the hair gel tube fell from Alfred's lax fingers.