How many times had he had to do this? Alfred knew Arthur's cooking sucked. In his few years of independence he had learnt that. It normally came out burnt and tasteless. But he was Arthur's friend and had been invited to his for dinner, it was rude to decline and invitation to dinner. Thought there were times when he thought Arthur told him that just so he could use it on him later. As he approached the house, he could hear the fire alarm going off already. Sighing he knocked on the door.
"Can you get that?" Arthur's voice shouted over the bleeping of the alarm. Alfred expected him to be talking to one of his imaginary friends he loved so much, so he was very surprised when he saw who answered the door.
"Alfred? What are you doing here?" Francis asked. Alfred stood dumbfounded looking at the Frenchmen. What was he doing there? Surely Arthur hated him.
"I'm here for dinner. Arthur invited me." He said bluntly still confused.
"I see." Francis looked Alfred up and down. "I think I may enjoy this evening more now." He said with a seductive smile. Alfred didn't feel comfortable with Francis' last comment.
"Erm... Can I come in now?" He asked gingerly. Francis moved out of the way and Alfred entered the house. Francis closed the door behind him, looking at Alfred's butt. Oh the things he could do. Alfred started to make his way through the smoke coming from the kitchen. Pushing open the door he was forced to hit the deck and crawl in. The smoke alarm still blaring and was almost deafening.
"Who was it?" Arthur's voice came through the smoke.
"Me! Alfred!" Alfred shouted just as a fire extinguisher went off covering the room in foam. Francis watched the amusing sight of Alfred and Arthur being caked in wet white foam. The smoke cleared through an open window. The pair finally saw each other. Alfred just saw a pair of green eyes blinking back at him through the foam. He couldn't help but snigger as Arthur was a white blob in front of him. It wasn't long until the pair were laughing at the ridiculousness of their situation. Francis just watched his two friends laughing, he couldn't help but laugh as two blobs, one with green eyes the other with blue, rolling around on the floor in front of him. Though his gaze seemed to fix on America, watching the teen brush off the foam and clean himself up. Arthur was quick to follow re-emerging from the sea of foam.
"I'm sorry guys. I don't think I'll be able to serve that." Arthur said looking through the oven door. "I think I've over cooked it a bit." A bit? Alfred thought. Surely he couldn't be serious? All his food came out burnt to some degree. He went over and squatted next to him. Francis seemed to saunter through the kitchen and looked as well. The meal was... well nonexistent. Alfred could only make out a black shape in the oven. As he stood up he was sure something went across his butt. Alfred looked back at the innocent standing Francis, who was gazing out the window.
"Did you just...?" He started looking at Francis, feeling uncomfortable even being in the same room with him now. Francis turned to look at Alfred, that smirk on his face confirmed his answer and made him want to leave.
"Well it looks like I'll have to go and pick up some fish'n'chips from the corner. Will you two be okay here?" Arthur was already in the hall putting on his coat.
"I'll come with you!" Alfred called, edging away from Francis.
"Alfred I need you to stay here to keep an eye on Francis. I don't want him going through my room again." He shot a dangerous look to the Frenchman who returned an innocent expression.
"But..." Alfred started to protest.
"It's okay Alfred, you're a big nation now. You should be able to handle him." And on that note Arthur had done up his coat and shut the door behind him. Alfred ran to the window to watch the Brit walk down the pathway and off to the shops. He so wanted to follow him, normally he wouldn't mind being at his house. He had been there many times. But he had never been left alone with Francis. Alfred quickly turned to find Francis nearly nose to nose with him. He took a few deep breaths and looked Francis in the eye.
"Look, I don't know what your problem is, but can you please stop touching me..." His voice losing its volume as he stared at the Frenchmen. "... and invading my personal space..." His confidence failing him. Francis' blue eyes were putting him into a trance. He couldn't look away from them. A small smile started to form on Francis' face as the American was soon trembling in front of him. "...so just leave me alone."
"Aww... you worried what Arthur may think of you if..." Francis slipped a hand down Alfred's shirt. "You play around a bit with Moi?" Francis' voice was almost as sweet as honey. Alfred had flinched as he felt the strong fingers run down his chest. Arthur had never touched him like this and Francis was making the poor teen very uncomfortable. Alfred pushed him away and ran round to the other side of the room. Francis watched the terrified teen, eyeing him hungrily, like a wolf stalking his prey.
"Please Francis... just leave me alone." His voice trembling. What had happened to his courage he had to face Arthur? He had fought for his independence and won. But that was a clean fight. Two teams battling it out. But this was different. Francis didn't want Alfred's independence. He wanted something much darker than that. He wanted Alfred's body. He wanted to claim him as his own. He had no idea how to fight this battle and Francis he was sure, was very well versed in this form of battle. When he didn't know how to fight a foe, he knew what he had to do. Keeping his eye's on Francis he edged round the room, Francis watched him like a hawk. Alfred shuffled to the door, giving Francis one last glance he took off into the house.
"A game of cat and mouse Alfred... Then I will catch you." Francis volted the sofa and perused the American.
Where to go? He sprinted up the steps and along the landing, he could hear Francis going up the stairs two at a time. Panicking he ran into the nearest room and hid in the closet. Pulling it shut he tried to control his breathing.