AN: I want to practice my smut, so I'm writing this two-shot. There's no smut in the first part (this part), but there will be (probably very bad) smut in part two and it will be third person (this part is first person). So don't read part two if you don't like smut. (You should still read this part though because it might be interesting?) It's Gold Rush AU USUK. Alfred's on his way to California, Arthur's a saloon girl in Colorado, and I'm supposed to be studying for three different test this week! Enjoy~

Alfred's POV:

Twas the mid 1800s. Everyone in their right minds was headin' out west to what they was callin' The Gold Country. I just happen to be one of them folk who was in my right mind, or as right as I could be, considerin' the circumstances.

I reached Colorado in the evenin'. I could tell it was Colorado by the great big, red Rockies juttin' out the ground and reachin' up to heaven. It's pretty diff'cult travelin' through them Rockies, so lots o' folk who ain't looking for gold built up some taverns to make a quick buck. I decided to take a stop in one of the many saloons litterin' the trail to get outta the dark. Not that I'm scared of the dark! I ain't 'fraid o' no dark!

Anyhow, I sauntered on in to this particular saloon after payin' some boy to put my horse in the stables and sat myself down at the bar. It was pretty empty for a saloon, then again, everyone tends to go to the ones with the best saloon girls. I wasn't all too interested in that. No need to waste all my hard-earned cash on a lady I won't see never again, right? Lookin' around, I checked out all the dancers working in this particular saloon. Most o' the time, it's the ladies who run the place, so I had to get their attention if I ever wanted to get a darn drink!

Thats when he showed up. I never thought I'd see the day that I end up in a bar like this. Know wonder this saloon was bare! I turned my attention back to the bar when I saw him. Bloody Angel. AKA: Arthur Kirkland. He had all the sass of a saloon girl and dressed just the same, only thing missin' was the big jugs! Our eyes met just 'fore I could look away and I saw him smirk. Swingin' his hips like he was the baddest bitch in town, he meandered his way to me like like a cougar does a rabbit.

"Can I get you a drink, love?" he asked me with that thick foreign accent that would knock a woman dead.

I cleared my throat and avoided his eyes. "Sure can, gimme a mug 'o your best beer if ya will?"

Bright green eyes accented by his crimson dress winked in my direction as he flipped his long, shiny blond hair (which, I presume was a wig) and navigated o'er to the beer keg. Long in the back, yet much too short in the front, his skirt's midnight black lace slithered along the floor behind 'im as it rode up his milky, fishnet clad thighs, exposin' the vibrant green garter b'neath it. The cherry underbust corset caused him to bend in such a way that allowed the shape o' them plump, round cheeks to be stressed by the flowin' waves of 'is cotton skirt. He lifted his arms and pulled the lever, allowin' the sweet amber to foam into the mug; the peridot string on his back stretchin' against the taut corset and the creamy white blouse fallin' outta place, brandishin' them angled collar bones and the slight curve of his slim shoulders.

He swung back 'round and made his way back to me with my beer in hand. Settin' it down on the counter before me and leanin' over the bar, blouse fallin' down and showin' his alabaster chest and perky, pink nipples. I picked up the drink, took a swig, an' pulled out a sack of coins to pay.

"Don't fret, chap. That one's on-the-house~" he spoke, brushin' his smooth fingertips along the bar-top casually.

I gave 'im a look, a bit shocked, but went with it anyway. What the hay? Free drink.

"Well, thanks, partner."

"Not a problem," he said, clappin' his ring-covered hands together, "What's your name, lad?"

"Alfred F. Jones at yer service!" I answered, holdin' out my work-weathered hand for a greetin'.

The... saloon boy, I s'pose, wrapped his slender fingers around mine and shook hand with a su'prisin'ly firm grip.

"It's lovely to make your acquaintance. I'm sure you know me as Bloody or Angel or both, but you can call me Arthur. Arthur Kirkland."

I swallowed and looked at his hand, still shakin' mine. He had quite a number o' rings, all of which looked like real gold. The one I noticed most, however, was gold with red and green metal letters spellin' "B.A." I could becha all the gold I find that he stole most o' them rings. Finally, he let go.

"So, tell me, Alfred, what's a handsome man like you doing in a bar like this?" He tilted his head, displayin' two large gems clasped to his ear: one emerald and one ruby.

"I just happ'd to stop by on my way out to the mines. Di'n wanna get into a place that's too crowded, ya know?"

Arthur hummed and nodded, running a rouge painted nail along the lip of my mug, which I quickly snatched up and drank down to the bottom. He giggled and stood back up.

"Would you like another, poppet?"

"Naw, that's a'ite," I shook my head, "ya'll know of a cheap place to stay 'round here?"

...

That moment was when all my resistance left me to fend fer myself.

Bloody Angel leaned over the bar once more and slid his soft, cold hand under my chin and while the other glided down my neck, o're my shoulder, and came to a rest on my chest.

"I've got a few rooms in the back, if you'd like."

The sultry tone wisped passed my ear wit' his warm breath and a lick to the shell, as the hand on my chin coasted along my jaw and up my cheek sensually; runnin' the digits up through my matted blond hair before settlin' on the upper left side of my hair. When his hot, wet mouth left my ear and jade eyes met my blue 'uns, I knew my resolve was gone.

AN: What do you think? Read on if you like smut! Chapter will be up soon!