_
She put him out like the burnin' end of a midnight cigarette

She broke his heart he spent his whole life tryin' to forget

We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time

But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind

Until the night...
_

"I love you. Have a nice day. I'll see you tonight.
Love,
Arthur"

No matter how many times Alfred begged and pleaded, Arthur would never forget to leave a little message in his lunch bag. He wasn't a kid anymore. Arthur knew that much, but he wanted to make sure Alfred never forgot. Of course, only the two of them knew of this little romantic gesture. They'd both be damned if anyone knew of their feelings for each other. There was nothing for them to do but keep it a secret.
Alfred smiled down at the letter while on his lunch break. It always brought a faint blush to his cheeks to see his lover's neatly scripted love letters. Despite all the fighting he put up about them, if they ever stopped, his heart would break. He'd saved every last one of them, and he kept them hidden away in a lock box so no one could find them. With this note, just like all the others before it, he folded it and put it in his pocket to place in the box after his break.
"What was that?" A quite voice behind him spoke, and the chair beside him was then occupied by a young man, similar to himself. Just as Alfred opened his mouth to defend, the other shook his head. "Nevermind. It's none of my business."
Alfred chuckled a bit, half out of relief, half out of amusement. "You're never going to get anything you want if you don't put up a fight. You always back down."
"That's not true!" Though he yelled, it was not much more than a whisper.
"Matthew, you know it is." Alfred turned back to his lunch which consisted of a Bologna sandwich with lettuce, tomato, and mayo. "When's the last time you stood up for yourself?"
The other thought for a moment before holding up a finger in remembrance. "Just last week, I was at a restaurant with some coworkers, and the waitress got my order wrong, so I told her about it."
A round of obnoxious laughter followed from across the table. "You kept the food she brought out and said "No, don't trouble yourself. This will do," and left it at that."
"Thanks Gilbert.." Matthew sunk back in his chair a bit, embarrassed by his current situation.
Alfred swallowed his bite of Bologna. "That's a step in the right direction at least."
The group was silent for a bit while they ate, not looking at each other. It was Matthew who broke the silence. "Are you busy tonight, Al?"
He did, in fact, have plans with Arthur that night. He hated turning down his best friend though. "We may be able to do something before I get too busy."
"Too busy?" Matthew looked at him curiously. "Do you have a date or something?"
"Hardly," he snorted, balling up his paper sack and shooting it into the trash bin. "Ivan and Francis are coming over for some poker with Arthur and me."
"Maybe I could join you?"
Gilbert laughed again at the other side of the table. "Why? Is it supposed to storm tonight? Do you not want to be alone?" He continued with his wailing laughter until Alfred reached across the table and grabbed the collar of his shirt.
"Listen here, Gil." His voice was low and calm. "Keep it up and you'll be tasting my fist for a week."
The German backed off, and he cleared his throat, standing up. "Well, I have to get back to work." He left without another word.
The two friends resumed their silence for a bit longer. It had always been like that. Matthew said something for someone to make a joke of and Alfred had to step up to the plate to take the first swing.
"Thanks," was all Matthew said after finishing his lunch. He left Alfred alone. He never did get an answer to his question.

"Arthur, I'm home!" Alfred yelled into the house the two of them had shared for years. He could smell something in the kitchen, and he groaned to himself, knowing that he'd walk in there and see a kitchen full of smoke. After throwing his stuff on the couch, he walked into, as he figured would be, a haze of smoke. "Open a window, at least.." He threw open the kitchen window and flipped on the fan above the stove, turning off the over while he was at it. Once the smoke cleared, however, he saw Arthur wasn't in there.
Slightly confused, he climbed the stairs to Arthur's room thinking maybe he fell asleep. "Arthur," he called out. "Not only should you not cook, but you really shouldn't cook if you're going to fall asleep.." He opened the door a bit, peeking in to find the room empty as well. "God dammit. Where is he?"
At the moment, he heard a moan come from the office, and he froze, looking toward the door across the hall. Another moan. "..Arthur?" Alfred walked to the room and touched the handle just as the wall shook beside it. He didn't want to think the worst, but all that came to mind was just that. Hesitantly, he opened the door, and he instantly sighed in relief.
Arthur was laying on the floor by the door, groaning and holding his head, and the other sat beside him. "Dude, are you trying to burn down the house?" When Arthur noticed Alfred had entered the room, he clung to him for dear life. "Are you alright?" He noticed a bottle of open whiskey sitting on the desk.
"Let go of me!" Arthur struggled out of Alfred's arms.
"You're the one who was clinging to me.." He let go of the Englishman who immediately walked over to the desk and picked up the bottle again, and Alfred stood, running over and taking the bottle just as he pressed it to his lips. "No.. I think you've had enough."
Arthur started to put up a fight, but Alfred brushed his lips against his before he could say anything, and he wrapped his arms around him again for good measure. He'd seen the man drunk enough times before to know how to deal with this. "You need to sleep for a bit. The others will be here soon. You don't want them seeing you like this."
Arthur just stared up at him, flustered. He let Alfred walk him back to his room. Alfred lay with him for a bit, just until he fell asleep, making sure he stayed on his side. He then left him alone to clean up the mess in the kitchen and prepare some edible food for their friends.
All while he did this, he couldn't help but wonder what led Arthur to drink so early. When the doorbell rang a few hours later, he pushed the thought from his mind and put on his usual cheery face.