Tough Market

CHAPTER I

Kiku Honda lightly tapped his cheek with a pencil, trying to concentrate on the white paper glaring up at him, but his eyes were growing heavy. After pulling an all-nighter discussing packaging designs with Jones-san, the marketing manager, he was well beyond tired. As a graphic designer for an international drink corporation, Jones-san was his boss; if he called in the middle of the night, there was nothing Kiku could do but answer. What was most shocking to him was that Jones-san had been wide-awake at two in the morning as if it were a natural occurrence. Sometimes, he felt like the only one in the world who fell asleep and woke up early, ready to start the day's work before the sun rose.

As he tried to remember the new product Jones-san had been so excited about the night before, a faint memory of his superior babbling on about coconut water reminded him. Then he recalled how the American had persuaded him into designing the packaging, although 'persuasion' was not quite the right term. 'Forced it on him' was a better explanation of what had transpired.

Determined to focus on the task at hand, he brought the pencil to the paper, sketching aimlessly. Looking back at his work, he internally fought with the drawing, hating how he knew what a coconut looked like and yet his picture was not quite right. The two ovals covered in scraggly hair and hanging off the palm tree better resembled a pair of male…

He did not want to finish that thought. Figuring it was time to take a break, Kiku left his cubicle for the vending machine, walking under the rows of lights as he contemplated what energy drink he should buy. The day before, he had gotten the special Hello Kitty energy drink, but today he was in the mood for something different: maybe one of those Hitman Energy Shooters…

Kiku pulled out his wallet and started rummaging, seeing no reason to break a dollar with all the coins he had. In his concentration on finding the proper change, he didn't even have a chance to register Alfred F. Jones's presence beside him. "Kiku, my man!" Alfred shouted gleefully, slapping his subordinate on the back. "How's your day been?"

Recoiling, the Japanese man dropped his wallet on the floor, coins of silver and copper strewn everywhere. "G-Good morning, Jones-san," he greeted him, putting on a polite smile as he gathered up his money. "I am well, although I am a bit tired after last night, but do not worry-"

Alfred cut him off with another slap to the back, grinning with bright blue eyes as he exclaimed, "Last night? Ah, Kiku, I knew you had it in you!"

"I-I beg your pardon, Jones-san?"

"You finally scored, didn't you? How was it? Was she hot? Or he? You know, whatever way you swing."

Staring blankly at him as his cheeks began to heat up, Kiku was having a difficult time following what his boss was saying. He couldn't have already forgotten about their business conversation only six hours ago...could he? This was Alfred F. Jones, after all. "Jones-san-"

"And quit calling me that! I told you to call me 'Alfred'! But if you absolutely have to be formal, call me 'Mr. Jones'. This is America and we speak American in America, not Polish."

"…Mr. Jones, 'san' is a Japanese honorific, not Polish. And we speak English in America."

"Yeah, but it's American English."

Kiku sighed, seeing no reason to argue with his superior about the proper language of a nation. "Mr. Jones, I did not partake in any…intimate activities last night. You called me about the company's new product, remember?"

It took a few seconds to fully dawn on him, but Alfred's sleep-deprived brain managed to pull through. Slapping his forehead, the American laughed obnoxiously loud. "Oh, right! The coconut water! I'd completely forgotten. I guess you're not a night person, huh?"

"Not at all, Mr. Jones," Kiku answered, shaking his head back and forth so that his black bangs tossed ever so slightly.

"Anyway, right, coconut water. Dude, that shit is amazing. It tastes a little bit like almonds and it's really good for your health, like an eco-hero or something! Isn't that awesome?

"That's…that's very interesting."

"With the American public focused on the environment and organic stuff, coconut water should be a real hit! Which is why I need you to work fast on the design. Other companies have shown interest in it, so we need to beat them to the shelves." Leaning in close, he whispered, "Especially our good buddy 'M'."

Kiku nodded, understanding why his superior had suddenly hushed his tone. In all the years Opa!-Cola had thrived on the earth, only one drink company could rival them, and that was Merhaba. There were always nasty rumors flying left and right about spies stealing secrets from the inside out, which, Kiku had to admit, had some merit to them. After all, Merhaba's products were growing increasingly similar to their own; so similar that the media was spewing conspiracy theories of the companies being one and the same, just putting on an act for the American public. When Opa!-Cola signed a deal to create a Hello Kitty-themed energy drink, their competitor released one featuring the Chinese equivalent, Shinatty-chan, and only a day later, nonetheless. Merhaba was a copycat corporation, so it wouldn't be much of a surprise if there were some moles infiltrating their company as they spoke.

"I understand, Mr. Jones," the Japanese man informed him. "I will work on the design as if my life depends on it."

Grinning wider, Alfred patted him on the back, gentler this time. "That's the spirit!" Kiku just smiled back and inserted coins into the vending machine's slot, pressing the button for the Hitman Energy Shooter. His boss noticed. "Ah, that's just what I was thinking of getting. I love that shit. I mean, just think of the name of it: it's like the mafia in a bottle! I'm so glad we bought out Monster!"

Kiku nodded as he bent down to retrieve his energy drink from the machine, also quite pleased that Opa!-Cola had obtained the popular brand. Then again, Merhaba took over Rockstar a short while later because, like their own company, Red Bull was way out of their league. "I agree. It was a profitable gain for our company."

"Hey, more importantly, it's a gain for us," Al told him, shoving dollar bills into the machine and violently jabbing the same button as his subordinate had.

"I agree," Kiku concurred, watching the American kneel down and snatch his drink from the vending slot.

Standing up, Alfred swiped his change from the machine and stuffed the coins haphazardly in his pocket. "Dude, why do you always agree with me? Come on, show me you've got a spine in that little body of yours." However, before Kiku had a chance to speak, Alfred shouted, "Oh, that reminds me! I saw this special yesterday about the Roswell incident. You know, with the aliens. Did you know they don't have spines? Isn't that amazing?"

"It certainly is," Kiku agreed, shifting his weight onto his other foot. He really needed to get back to work, but he had a feeling his superior wasn't going to stop talking anytime soon.

Sure enough, Kiku was left standing there for half an hour more as Alfred babbled on about aliens, UFOs, and how the government was trying to conceal their existence. Both had finished their drinks and Kiku was anxious to return to working on his design for the coconut water. The Japanese man was starting to wonder why he put up with this mind-numbing nonsense. Sighing, he reminded himself that Alfred was his boss and it was a lot easier to stand there and listen to him blather than to interrupt.

"And it's so obvious we aren't the only life source out there. If there's life on one planet in this solar system, who's to say there isn't another planet in the universe that had life? The odds are just too great. Yet, people think you're crazy if you even mention the possibility of life on other planets! Believe me, I've…" Alfred trailed off, his blue eyes focused past the Japanese man and hardening with tense irritation. "Oh, that little bastard."

His brow furrowing, Kiku asked, "Sorry, what?"

"Weillschmidt. He's talking to Matt again."

Following his gaze, Kiku found a certain cubicle and sure enough, the self-proclaimed ore-sama was leaning over the desk and conversing with Matthew Williams. "Why yes he is. Is there a problem?"

"W-Well, you know," Alfred stuttered, nervously running a hand through blonde strands of hair, "he, he should be working or, or something or, yeah. Yeah. A-And I bet he's making Matt uncomfortable. Probably being a real jerk."

Raising his eyebrows, Kiku observed his co-workers and commented, "Matthew doesn't appear at all uncomfortable to me."

"That's, that's just b-because he's too nice to tell the bastard off. R-Really, I bet Weillschmidt is really bothering him."

"…Mr. Jones, if you don't mind me asking, are you jealous?"

"M-Me? Jealous?" Alfred scoffed at the idea, but Kiku saw right through him. "Why, why would I be jealous? Matt can talk to whoever he wants. I'm Alfred Fucking Jones! I could have anyone I want! It's not like I lie in bed every night wondering what type of shampoo he uses or when he wakes up or how goddamn beautiful he'd look caught in a rainstorm or, or, o-or…"

Realizing the more he spoke, the more he dug his own grave, Al shut his mouth and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Fine, so I've got a thing for him."

"I can see why," Kiku remarked, observing the object of his superior's affection. "He is rather good-looking and seems to be a sweet person."

Alfred let out a longing sigh, drawing circles on his cheek with his finger. "I know, right? God, sometimes I just want to take him to my office and fuck him over the desk hard."

Kiku nearly spit out his drink when he heard this, the tart liquid heading down his windpipe. "M-Mr. Jones, pl-please refrain from making such vulgar statements," he choked out.

"Huh? Oh, I guess that sounded awkward. Sorry, man, it's just…when I see how those slacks fit just perfectly around his ass…I mean, he's got to know what he does to me, right? No one can be that innocent."

Wanting to end this conversation as soon as possible, the Japanese man simply answered, "He must." Not only would it be nearly impossible to make his boss understand the world didn't revolve around him, that poor Matthew likely didn't have a clue, and that romance between co-workers were never a smart idea, but he could possibly offend the man. And wasn't that a one-way ticket to damaging their work relations (a field he knew all too well after applying for a job at a Chinese toy store back in high school). Besides, Kiku had never been the kind to voice his opinion, so it was easier just to agree and move on.

"Yeah, yeah, he's got to have those things tailored just to tease me like that," Alfred convinced himself. "God, that little minx. …All right, nothing to do but fight fire with fire."

With that, the American ordered another energy drink from the machine and sauntered over to Matt's cubicle. A muffled cover of "I Know You Want Me" thrummed in his throat until he opened his mouth, shouting, "Hey, Matt!"

Matthew, clearly jarred by the sudden blast of volume, jumped in his seat. "Y-Yes, sir? Is something wrong?" He flinched as Alfred slammed the energy drink down on his desk, looking up at his superior with fretting violet eyes.

"Yeah, you talking to this punk when you should be working. Unless…" Al paused, putting on his sexiest grin as he traced the aluminum circle topping the can, "…you'd like to take a lunch break with me." He sent a challenging glance in Gilbert's direction - the albino looking thoroughly pissed off - before returning his gaze to the cute Canadian.

Blushing, Matthew twirled a wavy blonde lock and apologized, "Sorry, but I already have plans. Maybe tomorrow?"

Alfred's grin twitched at the ends, but he kept it steady. It wasn't like he'd expected Matt to jump at the chance, but he hadn't thought he'd be turned down so innocently. "Well, I'll have to see if I'm free, but I'm sure I could fit that in," he agreed, lightly batting the can closer to Matthew's hand. "So yeah, let's have lunch tomorrow. It's too bad, though. I already got another energy drink hoping someone would join me for lunch."

"I'll take it," Gilbert offered, smirking with shrugged shoulders. Alfred glared at him, not amused.

"Weillschmidt, get back to work."

"The awesome me is on break and, in case you hadn't noticed, was in the middle of a conversation before you interrupted."

"Were you?" his superior asked with a mocking smile. "Sorry, I guess you weren't awesome enough for me to notice."

"More like you weren't awesome enough to notice me."

"Who's the one with a country that still exists? Oh yeah, me."

"I don't care if Prussia had an 'official' dissolution. Prussia lives on through the blood of its people!"

"Um, g-guys?"

The two stopped their bickering and looked to Matthew, having forgotten he was there. "I, um, I'm sorry, but there's somewhere I have to be," he timidly informed them, and Kiku could tell the obvious tension between the two was making the man uncomfortable. Shy eyes scanning his cubicle for something, Matt muttered, "Where'd I put it? Oh, Gil, I think I left my coat at your desk earlier. Could you get it for me?"

Smirking triumphantly at his surprised superior, Gilbert replied, "Anything for you, Birdie," and walked off. Alfred watched him go, trying to bury his growing insecurity. He didn't want to think about why Gilbert had a pet name for Matthew or why Matt's coat was in the Gilbert's cubicle. All he knew was that he needed a special name to call the Canadian by if he wanted to measure up.

"So, Mattie, um, you mind if I call you Mattie?" Matthew opened his mouth, but Al didn't give him a chance to speak. "Good. Anyway, keep the drink. My treat."

"Oh, sir, I can't-"

"No, I insist. And for God's sake, you don't need to be so formal with me! Call me 'Al' or 'Alfred'. Whatever you like."

"Um, a-all right, Alfred," Matthew spoke, his syrupy voice testing the name on his tongue. A sweet smile made a way onto his face, nearly driving his boss crazy with want. "Thank you for the drink."

Flustered by how fast his pulse was driving now, Alfred stuttered, "N-No, um, it's not, it's nothing…um, h-have a great lunch."

Kiku winced as his superior walked back, looking like a kicked puppy. And he'd been doing so well, handling the situation with slick ease until that point. "He's just testing me, you know," Al told him, chewing the inside of his cheek. "I am having lunch with him tomorrow, so this is progress…Unless he's planning to stand me up. Shit, do you think he would do that?"

Shaking his head, the Japanese man sighed and decided to set his boss straight as lightly as he could. "I don't think that would be in his nature. Matthew comes off as genuine to me. It could be that he really did have a prior engagement and wanted to make it up to you."

"…I know," Al admitted, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he pouted. "I know that, but did you see the way he smiled at me? And the way he called me Alfred…he could still be playing hard to get, right? 'Cause, you know, that'd be sexy and…and…stuff."

"Mr. Jones, you can't force your fantasies-"

"What if he's having lunch with Gilbert?" Alfred asked, and Kiku heard the crack in his voice. "I mean, they hang out a lot and work together on- on work and- and…stuff."

"I don't think so. I believe I heard him tell both of you that he had somewhere to be."

"Well, he's got to be having lunch with someone then. I mean, look, look!"

Kiku glanced in the Canadian's direction as Gilbert returned with Matthew's cream trench coat, noticing how well it draped over his thin frame once Matthew pulled it on. "No one dresses like that unless they've got someone special to show it off to, right?" Alfred argued, his voice wavering slightly. "God, that trench coat looks so good on him. It makes me wanna rip that belt off his waist and tie his wrists above his head and-"

"Please do not finish that sentence," Kiku interrupted, his cheeks flushing. "And that is not necessarily true. Many people like nice clothes. For all you know, he may just be metrosexual."

Alfred gave his subordinate a look of horror, clutching his scalp as he slumped to the floor to sulk. "Now you're telling me he's straight?"

"N-No, no, not at all, Mr. Jones!" Kiku tried to assure him, frantically waving his hands back and forth. "That's not what I was insinuating at all! I was just saying he might be concerned with his appearance and that could be why he dresses so well!"

"But metrosexuals are straight. Oh man, I don't have a chance at all if he's straight, fucking straight…"

Sighing, Kiku put his hands on his hips and prepared a pep talk. Dealing with emotions really wasn't his area of expertise. "If you don't mind me saying, that is not a winning attitude. I am sure with enough persistence, you could have anyone you want, no matter their sexuality."

"But-"

"Did Superman ever give up?"

"No, but he wasn't-"

"Did Batman ever give up?"

"No, but-"

"Did Spiderman ever give up?"

"…No…"

"That's right. So, if they did not give up, there is no reason you should. Take a chance and pursue Matthew. It could very well pay off."

Alfred's blue eyes lit up with optimism as he took in the words. "Yeah…Yeah! I just have to think like a hero!" The American shot up from the floor and quickly pulled his subordinate into a crushing hug. "Thanks, Kiku! You always know what to say to make me feel better. So, do you wanna join me for lunch? Maybe that would make Mattie jealous. We could go to McDonald's. What'cha say?"

Squirming uncomfortably inside his hold, Kiku politely requested, "Please l-let go of me…"

"What? Oh, right." Taking his arms away, Alfred sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and apologized, "Sorry. I forgot that you're not a touchy-feely kinda guy. Anyway, lunch?"

"N-No thank you. I need to get back to work on my design."

"Actually, that's a good idea. I forgot to tell you earlier, but the big guy is coming on down later. If there was any day to work your ass off, it would be today." Clapping him on the back, his superior grinned and ordered, "All right, Kiku, make me proud!"

With that, Alfred F. Jones sauntered away, the stifled notes of "Take A Chance On Me" humming in his throat. Kiku glanced at the clock and sighed. It was only half past twelve, the energy drink was bound to wear off within twenty minutes, and now he had an ABBA song stuck in his head.

Oh, the perks of Corporate America.

. . .

(A/N: Sorry this note is so long and that I haven't updated in a month! So, this was supposed to be oneshot requested by PRUSSIAisAWESOME, who was the 200th reviewer for My Skin, but the plot just kept increasing in my head, so I'm making it a multi-chapter story. I've wanted to do review-requests for a while, but I hadn't been keeping track of who wrote what number review, so I jumped at this chance. I'm going to keep track for my multi-chapter stories if they ever reach 100 reviews or further, so there will be more requests down the line. Speaking of which, Brother Complex is at 399 reviews. Just saying. Back on topic, I don't expect this fic to go on too long, maybe six or ten chapters, but we'll see. I'm also not sticking to an update schedule since I have no idea how busy school will make me, but I will update as fast as I can. I'm not sure if you all know it, but I'm actually a big Giripan fan despite the fact that I'm always writing Matfred, so I'm enjoying this change of pace. I'm also working on two sexy Matfred oneshots, so hopefully I'll finish those soon, but no guarantee. On a random note, I actually tried coconut water today. It's definitely an acquired taste.)