Brotherly Assistance
"You'd better get a move on, little brother, thirty and still single. You're another year closer to becoming a crazy cat lady," Allistor jibed.
Eyeing his brother poisonously, Arthur replied, "I am not going to become a 'crazy cat lady' despite your peculiar preoccupation with that notion. And I'm perfectly fine the way I am, thank you, no need for someone to balls up my peaceful life."
His tea had cooled significantly by now and Arthur couldn't stand to drink it lukewarm. Tea was designed to be hot and sweet and no other way was palatable. Allistor was clinking mugs around, preparing for another brew. Arthur wasn't one to turn down tea but his mental capacity was rapidly eroding in his brother's presence.
"Come on, when was the last time you were shagged?"
That was it, he had to leave. He whisked away his coat from the back of the sofa and was grasping for the handle of the front door before Allistor had finished refilling the kettle.
"Well, I'd best be off, Allistor," the Englishman called to his brother.
Emerging from the apartment opposite Allistor's, at the exact same instance, was an exceptionally attractive man. The stranger was blond, broad-shouldered, his skin was bronzed and there were ridged muscles across his stomach. And he was most definitely a natural blond apparently. Sodding hell. The man was entirely naked. That is, except for the bed-sheet he was holding.
Vexingly nonchalant, the man leant down and collected a crinkled newspaper from the floor. A noise surged from Arthur, the note was so high-pitched that the only possible explanation for it was that his pubescence must have spontaneously reversed. It was taking every ounce of Arthur's self-control not to stare southwards of the man's body.
Allistor's neighbour peered over at Arthur behind crookedly positioned glasses and at least had the decency to appear caught off guard. There was no great rush in him but he did have the courtesy to hold the bed-sheet against his groin. Not that it mattered as that particular area of the man's body was seared into Arthur's mind in explicit and blessed detail.
"Uh… sorry about that," he said with an endearing grin. "How are things?" Arthur didn't want to stereotype anybody but, judging by the accent, the man was American and not Canadian. Only an American would be so audaciously casual.
"Things are big, thank you– brilliant, I mean! Things are brilliant!" Oh. Dear. God. He blushed so vibrantly that he might as well have been wrapped around a Christmas tree.
"Alfred, my man, put some clothes on! There are English ladies present!" Allistor bellowed out, he must have made his way down to the front door at some point.
"Yeah, sorry, I know what you Brits are like with nudity," this Alfred responded light-heartedly.
"You need to be especially careful around this one; he's a pillow-biter." Arthur, who had previously been rendered immobilised, snapped around to face his brother. His mortification and indignation making his face a plum colour.
"Excuse me, Allistor! I hardly think that's appropriate, you pillock. And regardless of whether I am of that persuasion does not mean I am attracted to an indecent idiot that wanders about naked in public!"
But I'm attracted to this indecent idiot that wanders about naked in public.
"Hey! I didn't realise anyone would be out here, it seemed pointless putting clothes out just to get the newspaper – thanks, by the way, Allistor." Alfred's face turned positively devious. "Besides, if you've got big things then there's no reason not to flaunt it."
Arthur's bottom jaw slacked and he had absolutely no idea how to respond. Despite praying, Arthur realised that the floor wouldn't give way beneath him and result in instant death to put him out of his misery. Instead, he stomped away without so much as wishing his giggling brother goodbye. He did, however, assure that Alfred heard Arthur call him a tosser.
It was once the Englishman was safely home, and alone to stew in immeasurable embarrassment, that he received a text from his brother.
'Thanks for the visit, never laughed so much in my bloody life! The tosser would like to pass on a message. He thinks you're really 'cute' and would like to take you out for coffee or whatever. I've given him your number, you can thank me after all the shagging. He also said he'd be more than happy to make you bite pillows but he begged me not to let you in on that secret. Enjoy your date, stupid arse.'