His dad often had meetings with other businessmen at his house, so this wasn't unusual.
How Alfred reacted to it was another story.
A youngish looking man entered the house after his dad; the man had short, black hair, and pretty, brown eyes.
He was short-shorter than Arthur even!
Alfred though was also taller than most people he knew anyway.
This man looked like a cute, Japanese doll.
Al was almost disappointed when his father's study closed shut behind him.
Either way the man didn't stay long.
"Arthur!" Alfred begged; sometimes he called his father by his name rather than by Dad.
"I am not your friend, and you don't need to know who he is!" Arthur fumed.
"I wanna know his name!" Alfred whined.
"I taught you better English than that!" Grumbled Al's father.
"Dad!" Alfred managed to make it sound as if he would die with out that information.
"Fine! He is Mr. Honda." Arthur had fallen under the trap of Alfred's puppy eyes and caved.
"Does he have a first name?" Alfred asked.
"Of course, he does! My son is a bloody moron." Arthur grumbled, and left the room.
Alfred pouted when he realized that he wouldn't get any information from him for a while.
He had other means of getting information, namely in the form of his friend's father.
"Francis, do you know of a Mr. Honda?" Alfred asked Matthew's father, Francis.
Pain flashed in his blue eyes.
"Why do you want to know of him?" Francis asked, having hidden his pain.
"Dad had a business deal to make with him, and wouldn't tell me his first name." Alfred pouted at the memory.
"It's Kiku. Are you sure that it was a business deal?" Francis answered.
"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" Alfred responded.
"Kiku and Arthur went out back in high school." The Frenchman explained.
"Kiku's that old?" Alfred gasped.
Francis frowned at how informal Alfred was being to a stranger, and the interest that he could hear in the boy's voice.
"Oui, and he is slightly older than your father. Please don't make the same mistake that Mon Petit Lapin made." Francis sighed.
Francis had a strange crush on Alfred's father; it was too impossible for Al to imagine his best friend being his brother, and having Francis has a second father.
Plus, Alfred couldn't even imagine his father being gay.
"I'm not." Alfred pouted; he really wanted to know that man.
Francis shook his head, "He is older than you think."
"I know!" Alfred whined.
"'Bye, Francis." Alfred grumbled; he was still mad at Francis.
He left, and Matthew followed him.
Francis had always viewed Alfred as another son, and had stayed by the boy and his father when Alice had divorced Arthur.