A/N: I have no clue where this idea came from. I was reading a fanfic about a situation with a broken down car. Later during a completely different day, i was thinking about the movie Cars and how McQueen got stuck in a run down town and befriended the towns folk. And this happened. I have no clue where this is going...
"What's wrong with it?" Arthur called from the passenger seat. He head a thud, a groan, and a string of grumbling that sounded like curses. Rolling his eyes, he leaned back in his seat, trying to escape the heat of the sun. It was supposed to be nice with temperatures in the mid-70s with a soft breeze coming in from the northwest. The skies were supposed to be clear with a few lazy clouds. Well, the sky was clear alright. But it was nowhere near the 70s. At least the 90s, Arthur calculated. He still wasn't used to America's strange system. Why couldn't the Free World just go with the norm and convert to the metric system?
"Alfred!" The brit groaned, sweaty and cranky. "Just give up on it, lad. This was a junk car in the first place." Arthur stuck his head out the open window. Alfred emerged from underneath the car, covered in dirt, dust, and oil. The hood of the car was still up so Alfred thought it'd be a good idea to slam it close to demonstrate his frustration.
"Amelia is not a junk car! She's an antique!" Alfred got into the driver's seat, and Arthur handed him a cloth to wipe off the oil and sweat.
"I hope you don't treat all your antiques like that." Arthur motioned to the hood of the car. Alfred rolled his eyes but cracked a smile.
"You're the only antique I treat a little rougher than I should."
"Alfred F. Jones!"
The younger blond giggled. Arthur only continued to shake his head. But the mood was significantly better. Sadly, the heat and humidity didn't improve.
"I'm sorry, Artie. It was my idea to go on a spontaneous road trip, and now we're stuck out in the middle of nowhere. And I can't even fix the damn car. I'm a failure as a hero." Alfred dropped his head on the steering wheel, releasing a loud honk.
"Bloody hell!"
"Of all the things that works..." After an exchange of looks, Alfred and Arthur both burst into laughter. Calming down, Alfred leaned back in his seat and sighed, still upset with himself.
"Alfred, I'm just glad that I'm away from the noise of the city. Let's go tell Mr. Vargas that we will be staying at his Bed and Breakfast." Arthur got out of the car which had been dropped off behind the sheriff's office.
Even though Alfred said they were in the middle of nowhere. The two blonds actually were in a town not far off from their planned course. Unfortunately, Alfred's car broke down on the highway in wide open land. Luckily, it was not too far off from a small town. And not too far off meant a tow truck picking the two up and driving 80 or so minutes back into town.
The mechanic had gone into the city to take care of business and buy supplies. He wasn't due to come back for at least another three days. So Alfred did what he could. Though, anything beyond changing the engine oil was a puzzle to the American.
Giving in, Alfred followed his boyfriend's lead.
Oh, there's that too. Alfred and Arthur were a couple. Dating. Seeing each other. Having hardcore sex against a wall. Okay, maybe not so much that last one. Or is it?
It was a journey. One that mostly consisted of Alfred pining after Arthur. Eventually Arthur agreed to a date and it all went from there. After seeing a romantic and gentlemanly side to the American, Arthur caved. It had been a year, seven months, seven days, and six hours. Not that either of the were keeping track.
The Bed and Breakfast was not too far from the sheriff's office. Well, nothing was too far from anything. The town was small. Carrying about 150 people, including women and children. It was a town where everyone knew everyone, and nothing was a secret. So in this small town, Arthur and Alfred were an exhibit. Dinosaurs that had lots of new stories to share with the townspeople. Maybe even secrets to gossip about.
"So the car didn't end up cooperating?" A tall blond asked as soon as the duo stepped in. The man was Ludwig, Mr. Feliciano Vargas' significant other. Due to laws, they were unable to get married in the small town, but the townspeople recognized their relationship. He had German roots and looked the part. Tall, built, blond with blue eyes, and the German accent was the cherry on top.
"Nope. Is there a room available for two?" Alfred walked past the tables in the "lobby" of the Bed and Breakfast and to the front desk. The lobby was actually a living and dining room. Two round tables that seated two were against the right wall and under the windows. Still to the right were lounge couches and a low coffee table. To the far left was a long dining table that held six people. Past the front was the desk where Ludwig stood. To the right was a wooden stair case with railings. It went up and people who used it seemed to disappear into the ceiling above the front desk.
"Is Mr. Vargas out?" Arthur asked. He liked small talk. Although Alfred didn't see the point.
"He went to go help out at his brother's restaurant. It gets busy during lunch time." Ludwig replied as he looked through papers. "It seems like the rooms with two beds have been taken. I'm sorry. We usually don't have so many guests. Would you care for a room with a queen size bed?" He looked up at the two blonds.
They exchanged a look. The shorter blond, Arthur, gave the other a warning look and nodded. The one with the glasses, Alfred, smiled and turned back to him.
"It should be fine. We'll take it." He sneaked a sideways glance at Arthur who, in return, pinched him.
After the paperwork, Alfred went to get their bags. Arthur, who offered to help, was practically ordered to relax. He hung out in the lobby where a fan over head kept the room cool. Of course, it couldn't beat A/C, but when in Rome, do as the Romans do. Alfred was back with the bags fairly quickly. The two of them didn't pack much. A duffel bag each. They were planning on a simple three days, two nights trip. Nothing fancy.
"So what room number?" Alfred asked Arthur, who had the room key.
"Five." Arthur took his own bag, and the two climbed the stairs up. The hallway extended to their left and right. It seemed as though Feliciano and Ludwig lived here as well. There were six rooms, three on each side of the hallway. But one wasn't marked with a number. Rather, a sign hung on the door that read, "Feli & Luddy" in script.
Their room was right across from the staircase. It was a fair size. The queen size bed was under the window on the furthest wall of the room. Right next to the door was a closet. On the right wall was a door, most likely to the bathroom. The left wall held drawers with a lamp. Arthur turned on the fan, and Alfred put their bags at the foot of the bed.
"It's nice." Arthur sat on the bed. It was a cozy and somehow comforting, like home.
"It's hella narrow." Alfred whispered, knowing he shouldn't complain. Either way, Arthur smacked the blond.
"At least we got a room to ourselves. I was wondering what if we had to stay at someone's house." Arthur sighed. Alfred rolled his eyes and sat next to Arthur.
"What worried you? The fact that we'd be intruding or that we wouldn't be able to do anything?" Alfred traced his fingers on Arthur's knee and moved up to Arthur's inner thigh. Breathing escalating and eyes dilating, Arthur stopped his boyfriend's hand.
"B-both." He gasped. To that, Alfred smirked teasingly and removed his hand.
"How many? Oh! Alfred! Arthur! Benvenuto! (Welcome!)" Feliciano greeted each man with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Table for two?" He made sure with the couple and led them to their table. The restaurant was no bigger than the Bed and Breakfast. However, it was more oriented for service rather than comfort. "Here are your menus. What can I get you both to drink?"
"Iced water will be fine for me. Thank you, Mr. Vargas." Arthur nodded.
"No no no! Mr. Vargas is so old and icky. You have to call me Feliciano since we're friends." The brunet insisted. Arthur smiled.
"Fair enough, Feliciano." Arthur turned to Alfred who had finished skimming through the drinks menu.
"Iced coke for me!" Alfred grinned. He was glad Arthur was enjoying himself. He really was determined to make sure Arthur didn't regret coming on this trip with him.
"I'll be back with them!" Feliciano bounced off. Alfred and Arthur both went back to their menus. The restaurant seemed to be mainly Italian. There were a few Spanish cuisine and American favorites though.
Alfred already knew what he wanted as soon as he saw they had a half pound hamburger with fries on the side. Arthur wasn't going to eat such an oil filled meal. He didn't know if his stomach could handle it. The Italian food seemed harmless enough for his stomach.
"Here are your drinks," said a stranger's voice while two cold glasses were carelessly placed on the table. Confused, both blonds looked up. It was Feliciano, but his hair was different. Not to mention, his voice was noticeably lower. His brother? Ludwig did say Feliciano came to help his brother.
"Thanks, bro." Alfred started on his drink, belching right after.
"Your manners are fucking terrible, you bastard." Their new waiter reprimanded Alfred, who sat in shock. "Where do you think you are? At a fucking tavern? This is a restaurant. No matter what your standards are, you city bastard." Confusion turned to irritation and anger.
"Well, excuse me. I don't need to be talked down at like that." Alfred slid his chair back to turn his body towards the standing brunet. This seemed to intimate Feliciano's brother.
"W-What're you gonna do, huh? Gonna h-hit me or something, y-you bastard?" The brunet took a wary step back. He seemed to be weighing the options of fighting or fleeing.
"Fratello!" Feliciano called from across the restaurant. Making it to his brother, he tugged at his arm. "Antonio told you to either stop going outside of the kitchen or treat the guest nicely."
"But he-"
"Lovino!" A different voice came from the other side of the restaurant. Feliciano's brother, Lovino, jumped a bit and drooped. Mumbling under his breath, he walked back and disappeared into the kitchen.
"I'm so very sorry about my Fratello. He's not very good with people. He doesn't know when to stop called people 'bastard'. That's why he's usually just the chef." Feliciano rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. Alfred adjusted his chair and smiled.
"I guess the people here are used to it?" Arthur commented.
"Kinda. So have you two decided or do you need more time?" Feliciano took out a little notepad. Arthur and Alfred exchanged glances and nodded.
"We're ready. I'll get the half pound hamburger and fries." Alfred looked to Arthur after Feliciano repeated their order.
"I'll have the Tortellini Primavera, please." Arthur put his menu down. Feliciano collected the menus and danced off with their orders. When the food came, Lovino came back with his head a little lower and with another stranger.
"I'm sorry about my Lovino's behavior, señores. I hope everything else has been to your favor." The man spoke with a slight Spanish accent. He was tan and had dark curly hair. He was in a chef's uniform. And neither Alfred nor Arthur missed the 'my' in the man's sentence. The two were an item.
"Yeah, I'm sorry about my behavior, you ba-." Lovino bit his lip and looked up at the taller man. "Sorry. Hope you enjoy your meal." Two plates were laid out in front of the couple.
"Thank you. I'm guessing you're the chef." Arthur directed the conversation the unnamed man. Alfred had already started to eat.
"Well, yes. Lovino is also one of the chefs. Between the two of us, we make all the food that come out of the kitchen. Oh, perdón. My name is Antonio Fernandez."
"Well, Antonio, you really know how to cook. This is amazing!" Alfred complimented him in between bites of his burger. Arthur kicked his boyfriend from under the table. He yelped in pain and shot Arthur a confused and pained look.
"Excuse Alfred. He tends to forget that table manners exist." Arthur shot his lover a look to wipe his face at least a bit.
"Hahaha, no worries señor. It is a great compliment to see the food I cooked eaten so enjoyably." The chef grinned. "I must get back to work though. Please enjoy the rest of your time here." Antonio said goodbye and went back to the kitchen with Lovino following like a chick.
"How's the pasta?" Alfred ate a handful of fries. Arthur took a forkful into his mouth.
It was amazing! Between the meat and the vegetables, the tortellini was wrapped in a flavorful sauce. And skillfully, nothing was too overwhelming. It was perfectly delicious.
"It's delightful." Arthur chewed with a smile, to which Alfred laughed.
"Why can't you just say it's yummy or something?"
"Fine. It's hella yummy." Arthur tried to imitate his partner, who cracked up more. The rest of the meal went uneventful, and soon enough, lunch time was over.
A/N: I kinda know where this is going. But it's really just slow. And filled with random fluff and such. Very domestic, yes? Well i did say i'd make a domestic USUk fanfic.