I don't know where the hell the title for this came from. Meh.

Best Quote Ever =

"The demons wanted my penis."

~David Berkowitz (A.K.A. "The Son Of Sam")

*I'm kind of insulting mentally ill people but don't bullshit me that you haven't*

"Ah, sir! Over here, please!" Earl Arthur Kirkland shouted from his spot on the side of the street, waving his gloved fingers in the air frantically.

Almost immediately, a horse-drawn cab was at his side, waiting for him to enter. A voice sounded as the Briton sat down.

"Where to, sir?" a young man with wheat-like hair and eyes that shone as the sky on a summer day did asked politely.

"Kirkland Manor on Broad Street." he replied.

The lad gave a quick nod before he brought the reins on the stallions up momentarily before slamming them back down. Arthur studied every feature of the man he could, taking in the pleasant sight as if he were a cool shower on a parched afternoon. Oh, a dashing sight he was. It wasn't often you saw someone who looked so breathtaking—let alone an American. The earl was rather fond of their strange habits and charming accents. Unfortunately, this one made an attempt to hide his accent.

"You're not from around here, are you, lad?" he inquired with a slight smirk creeping onto his pale features.

Arthur heard a sigh from the other before he replied. "How did ya know? I personally thought my accent was pretty good." he said, his fake English accent dropping.

The Englishman chuckled lightly. "I know a fraud accent when I hear one, my boy." he bragged.

The carriage driver smiled softly, a slightly disappointed giggle escaping his lips. "Well then, there's no point in hidin' it, huh?"

Arthur gave a playful frown, asking, "Why would you hide such a lovely accent?"

The American felt his face dance with warmth at the flattery. "W-Well, I guess it's 'cause us 'mericans ain't exactly favoured in Great Britain." he said, a bit of a stutter in his voice.

Earl Kirkland rolled his eyes. "Likely it's because they're still living in the days of Her conflict with America." he scoffed with an irritated sigh. "People who can't forget the past are absolutely abominable."

The driver chuckled lightly at the man's reaction. "Well said." he agreed.

A silence came up from nowhere and drowned the both of them. Though, the blue-eyed young man wasn't quite unaccustomed to it; not everyone who entered his carriage was in the mood to engage in conversation. He would have been perfectly fine leaving the new atmosphere as it was, but his curiosity of the man he had yet to befriend was incredibly strong.

"If I may ask, sir, what's yer name?" the boy asked innocently.

Arthur was relatively surprised that the lad—hell, any cab driver—would have the nerve to ask their customer for their name. Even so, the earl didn't mind one bit; in fact, he liked the daringness that this youngling possessed.

Grinning cheekily, Arthur replied, "They call me Arthur Kirkland." The Englishman could practically hear the other's jaw drop.

The cerulean-sighted male struggled to make his short stutters form sentences. "A-As in Earl Arthur Kirkland?" he asked in disbelief.

It was extremely difficult for Arthur to hold in the giggles that so desperately wanted to break out of his system. "The one and only." he said, a smirk hanging off of his words. "I'm surprised you couldn't tell just from the fact that we're heading to my estate right this very moment." the blonde teased.

The American found himself speechless—unable to do anything but just pray that the visible sunset spreading across his cheeks would cool down as they continued to the manor.

Finding this as the perfect opportunity to ask the same exact question that the colonist had asked him not long ago, Arthur pounced at the chance. "Now, what do they call you, my boy?"

The man found himself a stuttering mess once again, struggling effortlessly to put words together into fragments, and then sentences. "Al...Alfred." he began. "Alfred F. Jones."

Arthur's lips inched up into a genuine smile. "Why, that's a fine name." he complimented Alfred. "It's nice to know I won't have to call you "boy" anymore." he mused aloud.

Alfred couldn't help but wonder when he would ever be talking to this man again—besides if he ever were to be back in his carriage. That wasn't quite likely, though. He just shrugged it off and gave another light whip of the reins, signalling the tall and broad stallions that they were lacking the speed that was necessary.

"Thanks..." the driver mumbled shyly, though his reply was a bit late.

His quiet and hesitant reply only made Arthur's smile widen as he turned his emerald gems to gaze out the window, watching idly as the sight of familiar shops and residents whipped by in a blur.

As the memorisable features of his estate began to appear, Arthur sneaked a glance at his driver. Alfred really was a rare sight... He was very handsome; plus—newly discovered to Arthur—he had a simply adorable personality. Arthur would've hated for this to be their first and final meeting.

Just as the plan of getting to see the dashing American again settled into his mind, the carriage came to a stop. Arthur ripped his gaze from Alfred's backside to meet the all too familiar sight of his manor. A flirtatious and devious grin creeping onto his lips, the Brit asked, "One last thing, Alfred; when do you retire for today?"

Said American raised a confused eyebrow, his gaze to drifting to his side, where Arthur now stood outside of the carriage.

"Usually 'round seven... Why do ya ask?"

Arthur pressed his lips together in a charming smile. Before Alfred could give him another confused look, his breath hitched at the feeling of warm and humid air against his ear.

"Drop by my manor tonight, hmm?" he offered, a smirk eating at his features.

Alfred's heart threw itself against his ribcage violently at the foreign feeling of warmth nearing the shell of his ear. His reaction was sudden and unplanned, but he said it anyways.

"S-Sure." Oh lord, why did he say that? As much as Alfred hated to admit it, it was because Arthur was indeed quite mesmerising. Dirty blond locks hung from his head, emerald eyes seemed to crash through his own and reach his vulnerable heart in mere seconds.

Arthur chuckled lightly at the bright red hue covering Alfred's features, as well as the stutter in his voice. "See you at seven, then." he whispered seductively, not hesitating to brush his front teeth against the American's earlobe, giving it a playful nip.

With that, the earl turned his back on Alfred, though he soon gave the man a sideways glance. "Oh, and if my butler asks," he began, a smirk drawing on his thin, pale lips. "Tell him that you're a very special guest of the Earl."

At last, Alfred was left to merely stare at the formally dressed back of Arthur, watching until the man completely disappeared inside of his residence. Turning his head slowly, with his face resembling that of the sun-setting sky, Alfred whipped the reins and drove from the estate with a certain set of forest-green eyes still sticking to his brain.