Despite it being an ordinary and stressful Monday morning, Arthur Kirkland was all smiles. He couldn't stop thinking about what would happen after work. It was going to be thrilling! He passed the drink into his partner's hands. "Here you go, darling. I got you some green tea. Thought, you know, a little change of pace because somebody deserves something special for his birthday!"
Kiku smiled faintly as he took a warm sip of the drink. The streets were noisy and busy with people going to work. They would end up parting at the end of the road but since their office blocks were only a short distance away, they made sure to walk together each morning and get a cup of tea.
"Yeah. It's good," he said gratefully. It was nice to have something different in their endless routine. The Japanese man could only sigh when he heard Arthur's plans for the day.
"I made reservations tonight at Babbo at 8:30. I thought maybe we could talk about, you know, setting a date?"
Kiku looked over at his fiancé in surprise. "Did you just make a plan to make a plan?"
Arthur smiled apologetically as they walked on together. "Did I just do that again? Sorry." He didn't mean to keep doing that. He only wanted for everything to be perfect and had grown out of that younger rebellious stage where he did everything in the heat of the moment.
Kiku nodded and barely listened to Arthur's rambles about what they could do to celebrate his birthday. He wasn't highly interested in celebrating the day and was eager to get to work where he could be left in peace. When they reached the end of the street, the point where they separated, he waved a small farewell. "Sayonara."
"Happy birthday," Arthur called out after him as they parted ways.
Kiku barely looked over his shoulder as he called back without realising what was said. "You, too!"
Yawning, Francis opened his apartment door and gazed out at the visitor. In an instant, all tiredness swept away from him. He flashed a smile towards his guest. Standing there was a tall brunette female with a rather revealing Girl Scout outfit.
"Hello, sir. Would you like to buy some cookies?" she asked as she curled a strand of hair around her little pinkie. Her chest was puffed out some more so her cleavage was all he could gaze at.
Not to seem so easy, Francis leaned against his doorway and rubbed his chin. His eyes were still looked onto her cleavage and he knew he could not be turning this offer down. "I would. I really would. I just…." He looked behind his shoulder to look over his apartment. He had been slacking off on the tidying and it was far messier than usual. "Unfortunately, I don't have any money."
A playful smile crossed her lips when Francis finally locked onto her gaze. "I don't have any cookies," she whispered. She leapt forward and wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Francis was able to catch her and secured her into place as they shared a heated kiss.
A couple of hours later, they were laying nude on the bed. Coated in hot sweat and panting hoarsely, they were still twitching slightly from the aftereffects of their sexual act. His latest catch rolled onto her front and kissed along his neck. "Francis... I need a key."
Francis jolted awake and laughed nervously. "Wow…. A k-key?" He did not expect for that to happen for many more months. It was the same routine. He'll get a girlfriend, they have many flings, and then she starts to believe it's the real deal and –
"What? No!" She sat up with an expression of disgust. "I want a key to your apartment so I don't have to wait outside when I'm dressed in these little slutty outfits." She moved her long hair away from her sweaty front and huffed. "I don't want to live with you. No offense. And you know I mean this in the nicest possible way. You're not exactly serious boyfriend/marriage material."
Wow. That was rather blunt. Francis blinked as he recovered from that shocking statement. He knew he wasn't one for commitment but it rather hurt to hear it like that. But he smiled. "And I pride myself on that."
She smiled back and moved off the bed to collect her clothing. Francis did not bother to watch her dressed and stared up at the ceiling until she spoke to him again. "I gotta go. I'll see you next week. What're we doing?"
Francis rolled onto his side and gazed her up. She did have a fine figure and he could imagine her in almost any outfit. And it would always have a turn on effect for him – even if it was a basic and ordinary wear. He smirked as an idea came to his mind. "Mother of the baby saved from the fire and the sexy shirtless fireman?"
Arthur arrived into the office with barely ten minutes to spare. He picked up his pace and ran over to the lift that was just beginning to close. He caught the door in time and walked inside, panting slightly from the sprint. The doors sealed behind him and he glanced at his watch again. He may be able to fit in another cup of tea before he got to his office room.
"Opium."
"Yao."
The Brit's attention was caught and he glanced over at the Chinese man standing there in a corner of the lift. The two exchanged a dark look that barely shifted when the doors opened on the next floor and a couple more people entered the lift. No one bothered to make comment for everyone was aware of the intense rivalry shared between them.
Francis and his fellow employees were gazing intently at the screen of the small T.V. they had managed to sneak into the studio. It was the season of the usual football worldwide and they were all cheering on the French team in beating the English team. Francis himself had started a betting pool and everyone had chipped in on what they believe would be the final score.
Like usual, Francis was losing and badly; he had placed too much faith into the French team and placed a lot of money how they beating the English by 3 points. Sadly, the English were beating them by 4 points. The money was already being exchanged for those who believed it was too late to win and given up. Not a lot would change with only ten minutes left in the game.
Then someone near the back began to cough loudly and the crowd quickly broke away. Francis quickly turned off the T.V. and hide it underneath a table before calling out to the people, "that's it! Looking good there! That's good form, love that design, and keep it going!"
"Francis."
Mon dieu, he knew he was in trouble by that firm tone. But he quickly continued to act busy and picked up all the cotton treads he had been using to design a new outfit. He was very creative in his designs but, sadly, often lacked the enthusiasm and focus to complete any.
"Francis. Do you know what time it is?"
"What? I can't hear you over the sewing machines." Francis said loudly as he moved the threads over to the silk. "We're in the zone over here. I don't want to lose focus. That's how people lose fingers, oui?"
"You're fired."
Francis chuckled and smiled over at those around him who was listening in. "We are fired up!"
"You are fired."
His smile faded and he turned to look at his boss, Martialis. The boss looked very much like an older version of himself; similar wavy blond hair (Martialis had it tied back in a plait whereas Francis would tie his back with a ribbon in a ponytail), and they even held the same coloured eyes. But one big difference was that while Francis was one to smile, Martialis held deep frown lines on his face.
Francis knew this routine. It was one that he was too familiar with. He dropped down the materials he was working with. "I'll play you for it." He picked up a pencil and held it out like a sword. "You win, I'm out. I win, I get a second chance."
Martialis looked down at him. He was about a foot taller than Francis. "It's not a second chance when you've had a hundred of them."
Martialis was fairly wealthy and had booked a spot in the local sports centre for the two. The people there always kept spots open for them. It came in usual many times. Francis and Martialis (seriously, his name was so old-fashioned that Francis could barely believe he would continue using it instead of a nickname like 'Marty') would have a fencing match. The one that reached ten points first would win.
And Francis was currently losing. He felt the jap of the end of a sabre against his chest and then Martialis stepped back. "Seven – Six."
Francis looked disgruntled as he took his place to begin another round. As Martialis stood in front of him, he began to speak again. "You're supposed to be the future boss, but you're too busy being the life of the party. At some point, you're gonna have to step up and be a man."
Francis was distracted by his speech and ended up being hit again. Eight – Six. This was becoming a joke now. He didn't reply though and took his place again, determined to win this round.
The fight barely lasted four minutes and Francis was hit again. Martialis held back again. "Nine-Six."
Francis pulled off his fencing mask and frowned. "This is ridiculous." He refused to play another round. It may be chickening out but he didn't want to be fired and have his pride insulted.
His boss removed his mask as well. He didn't look too surprise. "That's your problem. You can't handle the pressure. As soon as you think you're going to lose, you quit. He poked the end of his sabre into Francis' thigh. "Ten-Six. Don't get me wrong. You're like a son to me."
Francis looked at him with disbelief written all over his handsome face. "Père, I am your son."
Martialis raised his eyebrows, unfazed by the tone he was spoken to in. "Oui, and it's time to cut the cord. Let's go clean out your desk."
Arthur wasted no time in running back to his and Kiku's apartment after work (he was fortunate to have a half day). He had managed to set up the decorations and even had time to run out and buy a cake after his own burnt in the oven. At roughly 6 o'clock, the party guests began to arrive. Usually, he would avoid large social events but he was determined to create the best party he could so ignored the uneasy tension by sticking to one of his close friends – Elizaveta.
The Hungarian female was finishing off the last of the cake for Arthur while he laid out drinks on the table. She listened to his excited rambles and shook her head.
"Kiku has no idea, not an idea at all."
"That you're pathetic, or..."
"What, do you think I went overboard?" Arthur looked over at the endless decorations and the tables that groaned with the weight of the party food. Tucked away in a corner was a large stereo that would only be allowed on when Kiku arrived. Maybe he had gone overboard with it all.
"No. No, I think it's the exact right amount of 'board'," Elizaveta said as she followed his gaze, "which is what I am right now." She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost 7 o'clock and everyone was getting restless with waiting.
Arthur went over to the drawers and took out the present he was going to give Kiku. He held them up for Elizaveta to look at. "Vegas?" She looked back at him in disbelief. "I thought you hated Vegas."
"I do, but, you know, that's why they call it a gift tip, because it truly is selfless." Arthur was a hopeless romantic at times despite his clinical nature and was willing to make such acts for someone he truly cared for.
The bell by the door rang and he tucked them into his back pocket. It was the sign they had all be waiting for and everyone began to move into their hiding positions; behind the sofa, in the bathroom, or simply ducking under a table.
Arthur waited until all of them were out of sight before opening the door. He closed it behind him and waited on the landing for Kiku to arrive.
He waited as calmly as he could manage. He was almost rocking on his heels by the time Kiku arrived. He noted the exhaustion on Kiku but decided it must have been the climb up the stairs that did it (the lift had broken down yesterday).
"Hi, honey!" Arthur smiled happily as he opened the door to their apartment. Kiku barely muttered a greeting but Arthur continued on. "Welcome home. Happy birthday! Okay, come inside..."
Kiku took hold of Arthur's hand before he could enter the room. "Listen, Arthur. We need to talk."
"Well, let's do it inside. Okay?" Arthur tugged on his hand to make Kiku walk forward and closer to the door but Kiku planted his heels into the ground to remain standing still.
"I can't, or I'll never do this." Kiku inhaled a deep breath and looked up to meet Arthur's eyes. "Look, there's no easy way to say this."
Arthur could hear the movements of those inside the room and knew that Kiku would catch on quickly if he didn't bring him inside now. "Then don't," he said as he tried to take another step towards the door, "just think about it, and then later, I'll try to figure out what it was you were thinking. Let's just go inside."
Kiku shook his head and pulled his hand away from Arthur's. He looked down at the ground as he spoke. He was never good at awkward situations and this was one of the most awkward. "This can't wait, Arthur. You know I have a really important job. So when I come home, I want this place to be an escape. And as of late, it's not. Yes, the sex is great."
Arthur planted his face into his hands. Oh God. Not this, anything but this! Not with all their friends only a few metres away and possibly listening in. Kiku didn't notice his discomfort in light of his own though and continued.
"I mean, that's fantastic, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate all the things you've been trying with me. But the rest is so exhausting. You're so on all the time, with all the scheduling and planning, it's just..." He inhaled again and looked up timidly. "I don't want to marry you. I'm leaving you. Well, I mean, this is my place, so technically, you would be the one that has to leave, but... Are you crying?"
Arthur shook his head and brushed away the tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes. Finally taking the hint, Kiku stepped into the room and flicked on the light switch. Each one of the guests slowly emerged out of their hiding spots and stood together, watching the break up.
"Surprise." The Hungarian said as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"Oh…." Kiku paled as he looked over at the countless number of people standing there in his apartment. The polite ones looked away and pretended to be interested in the wallpaper. But some, like Elizaveta, looked directly at him with a frown.
After he was fired, Francis sulked in his apartment where he received a phone-call from Gilbert. Gilbert offered to take him to a club and Francis wasted no time in agreeing to go. They met up at the club around the corner from his apartment half an hour later.
He had known Gilbert since they were children. Their parents moved to America at the same time and took English lessons together. They remained in contact and would often push Gilbert and Francis together while they talked. The two had grown rather close despite their many, many, differences. And one of the benefits of that was Francis had someone he could rant to. "Do you have any idea how much money I've made him? You're my lawyer. Can I sue him for something?"
Gilbert chuckled. His easy-going attitude meant he often failed to see how serious a situation could be, and he was a very poor lawyer because of it. "Well, the problem with suing your father is that he's your dad."
"He'd love it. He'd think we were bonding." Francis scoffed as he drained his sorrows. Damn parents... how was he meant to make his way now? He depended on them for his rent money and would end up on the streets without it. He could live with his friends but he knew enough about them to know it wouldn't work out well.
"Maybe he would be!" Gilbert agreed. He knew exactly what it was like to have a father like that. His was even sterner than Francis' and had demanded he and his brother made their own ways. He sighed and propped his head up onto his arm and stared at the beer foam remains in front of him. "You don't know. Take him to court. It might be nice."
"What am I gonna do about money?" His friend sulked as he ordered another couple of drinks for them. Gilbert would be paying this round so he was going to drink himself happy or unconscious. Sadly, when it was Gil, it was only beer and lager on the menu. No wine.
Gilbert instantly perked up at the sight of another drink and grinned. "You're just realizing that right now? Faszinierend!" He laughed.
Francis straightened up with a dignified look. "I could do a lot of things for money. I'm good at stuff," he said crossly as he flicked his hair over his shoulder and peered around the table, "I... I'll bet you $I can finish this beer faster than you!"
The German laughed harder. Francis was challenging him to a drinking contest? He must be very desperate for money! And he wasn't one to turn down such an offer. "You're on!" And one the count of three, the two friends attempted to drain the drinks as quickly as they could.
Meanwhile, in another club down the street, Arthur had persuaded his friend Elizaveta to go with him to a bar for a drink. They had barely been there for an hour and Arthur was already resting upon the bar counter and sobbing out his heart. "He doesn't even deserve me! I did everything for him! I knew we were growing distant but…. Why does no one like me?!"
Elizaveta flinched as she watched her friend cry. She barely touched her drink after watching how quickly he fell apart. It annoyed her. She was never one to break down and sob like that. She took revenge, and an idea was already forming in her mind. She wanted until the sobbing died down before nudging Arthur's side and leaned in closer, "Here's my thought on what we should do with this whole Kiku thing."
Arthur sniffed and raised his head from his arms. His eyes were puffy and red and his cheeks were stained with tear trails. It wasn't a pretty sight but Elizaveta looked passed that and smiled in her mischievous manner. "Once a week, we get some of my brother's loser-ass friends to go over to Kiku's house, ring his doorbell, and when he answers, they're just gonna, bang, junk-punch him right up in his man business and then he's gonna keel over. While he's writhing on the ground screaming, "Why?" they'll go, "You know why!""
The Brit blinked and wiped his eyes dry on a napkin that the bartender kindly passed to him. He was offered a glass of water too and quickly took a couple of gulps. He was impressed with the way that her mind worked and he couldn't lie that it made him feel better to imagine it. "Did you just think of that?" he asked.
"No," the Hungarian admitted with another sly smile. "I was thinking about it a lot on the way over." She looked down towards his hand and sighed. "You're gonna need to take off the ring." She did feel some pity for her friend. She knew how it was to break up with a fiancé.
Arthur shook his head and looked down at the gold ring. Now his attention was drawn on it, he was conscious of its existence and began to fiddle around with it. "No, I... I'm just... I'm just gonna... I'm just going to wear it on the other hand…." It wouldn't mean anything then, would it? He pulled it off and switched it onto his other hand.
"Do you know what's gonna make you feel better?"
"What?" Arthur asked.
Elizaveta pulled the tickets that Arthur still had tucked in his back pocket and slammed them down on the counter with a triumphant smile. "Where can you go where you can forget all your troubles and act like a total idiot?"
"Do not say Vegas." Arthur groaned as he looked down at the tickets.
Gilbert was laughing at his friend's defeat in their drinking game; "You are a child! What is that? What is that?"
Francis pulled a face of disgust at the foul taste of the beer. He really truly detested the drink but was determined to win some money out of his friend. "This is terrible!" he muttered. Now he felt sick. Ah, he needed to get away. Somewhere fun and exciting that had tons of people to distract him from his troubles. He leaned in and smiled as the idea came to him. "Where's the one place where you can step up and be a man?"
"Community college?" Gilbert suggested blankly.
Francis shook his head and the smile grew. "I am talking about one place and one place only, my friend."
Gilbert's eyes shined as he caught on. "Please say Vegas."
"Vegas, baby!"
"Vegas!"
