A/N: Might be multi-chaptered, if I feel like it. You know, tell me if you like it~ Eheh.

Chapter 1: In Which Alfred Faces Competition

( )( )( )( )

Today was definitely not Arthur's day.

He woke up in his lover's arms, like usual. But sadly, his room was a mess. This made the British man very upset, considering order was kind of his thing- other than tea and scones. So he woke Alfred up. Alfred was genuinely tired. He had spent all night up with Arthur, who couldn't sleep. So he was forced to stay up all night. Which he didn't do. Ever.

Now he was being woken up at six o'clock? 'Cause the room was MESSY? Now he was upset.

"Arthur. Clean the fricking room yourself. I am tired. I am lazy. It's YOUR room. CLEANNNN." He growled, flipping over and covering his head with the pillow.

"Alfred. It's your clothes. Get up and clean them, now."

"No. Leave me alone, you stupid old man."

"Old man? Excuse ME?"

"Well, you ARE older than me."

"I'm only like, thirty."

"Whatever." The blue-eyed man said, shooting a glance in Arthur's direction and falling back asleep.

So Arthur ignored the mess and got up, taking a quick shower and pulling on his school uniform- a white button-up shirt, red tie, and a tan blazer, and of course his kaki's. No, he wasn't a student. He was a teacher. And he had to wear a uniform. Ridiculous, in his opinion, but he didn't complain.

When he got halfway to the school, his car broke down in the middle of the street, making him two hours late, considering he had to call a tow-truck and walk the rest of the way, considering the taxi never came.

When he got to school, he dropped all of his papers in a puddle of water right outside the door, ruining all of the newly graded tests. When he got to the classroom, he sat down, and then jumped back up, screaming. Someone had put tacks in his seat.

After this, at lunch, he tripped, making his soup splatter all over his chest.

He gave up on school after that, getting his spare uniform from his locker in the teachers' lounge and leaving. He walked to the bar right outside of his house, thanking god he remembered his wallet.

That's where he was now, in the bar, drowning his problems in scotch and bourbon. His head seriously hurt at the moment, and he felt like he was dying. But other than that, he had no feeling, and it was wonderful. He got out of his booth, to go grab another drink, when he bumped into another man.

"Bloody wanker! Get out of my bloody way. Stupid bloke!" Arthur yelled, glaring blearily at the man.

"Hey, you rammed into me man. Your bad." The man yelled back. Arthur then focused in and noticed that the man had an unusually striking appearance.

His whole face was angular but almost feminine, in a strange sort of way. His sharp red eyes were framed by long, soft lashes, and could stare straight in your soul and find out all of your secrets. At the moment they were heavily lidded and misty, in an alcohol induced haze. His hair was fluffy and white, his bangs swept sideways, away from his eyes. His lips were soft and pink, curved into a smirk at the moment.

"Is it normal for people here to stare at you?" The man asked, and Arthur noticed for the first time that he had a slight East German accent.

"Oh shut up you git." Arthur said, turning around and stumbling to the bar. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he turned around, met by red eyes.

"Whatttttt?" Arthur asked, glaring at him.

"Oi. Mein freund, I think you're drunk. So I'll stick with you. Because frankly I've taken a liking to you. My name's Gilbert. I'd tell you my last name, but you're too drunk to remember it anyways." The man- Gilbert said, smiling. Arthur glared on, 'hmpf'-ing and turning his back on the albino.

"Now now, the cold shoulder is just cruel." Gilbert said, grabbing Arthur and swinging him around. The blond glared at the other for a while, but after a while his gaze softened, and tears began to roll down his cheeks.

"Woah! Brows? What's up?" Gilbert asked, his own eyebrows raising. He looked awkwardly at the Brit for a while, before pulling the man in his arms and shushing him, rocking back and forth.

"Wanna tell me about it?" Gilbert asked, staring down into Arthur's emerald eyes.

"I've had the worst day of my bloody life. What's not wrong!" Arthur said, wiping his eyes. He calmed down, stopped shaking, and pushed himself away from the other man.

"I think it's time for you to go home, dude. What's your name, and where do ya' live?" Gilbert asked, sighing.

"My name is Arthur, and I live just down the road from here." He said finally, falling into Gilbert's arms. The albino man picked him up and slung him over his shoulder, carrying him into his car.

When he finally found what Arthur said was his house, Gilbert picked him up once again and carried him onto the porch. He rooted around in Arthur's pockets, finding his keys. The blond man had his head resting lazily on Gilbert's shoulder- he was too drunk and lazy to hold it up anyways. Gilbert put his hands on either side of Arthur's head, smirking.

"Are ya' gonna give me a goodnight kiss, babe?" He asked, staring as sexily as he could into Arthur's eyes. The man looked up for a second, and leaned forward, his lips barely brushing Gilbert's, before he jumped back, as if shocked.

"NO! I can't do that. No. I have a boyfriend. I'm- I'm cheating on him!" Arthur screamed, glaring at the other. It was at that moment that Alfred unlocked the door and came out, holding a baseball bat.

"WHO IS I—Oh, Iggy. Hi. You're home, I see." He said, tilting his head. Then he saw what position the Brit was in.

"Iggly? What the hell? What are you doing out here, with this- this- freak?" Alfred asked, his brows furrowing.

"Excuse me, I'm no freak, sir. And I'm the one who brought your irresponsible boyfriend home." Gilbert said, removing his hands from around Arthur's head.

"Al!" Arthur yelled, running and hugging the American man.

"What's up Ig. Glad to see you home. Let's go inside. Say bye to your friend, okay?" Alfred said, sending a glare in Gilbert's direction, but going back inside.

"Erm, Good night then, I suppose. Thank you, for bringing me home." Arthur said, about to turn around. Gilbert grabbed his arm, turning him around, a smirk on his enticing lips.

"I won't forget. You still owe me a goodnight kiss. I'll be waiting. I don't think I'm done with you yet." Gilbert said, turning around and striding towards his car.

Arthur couldn't explain the blush that dominated his pale cheeks as he went inside, or the way his heart sped up, the way he could still feel Gilbert's hand on his arm, wishing it was still there. He went back inside, back to bed, in the arms of Alfred, hoping that he could just forget the whole day.

Gilbert climbed in his car with a new energy. Like a predator who is about to close in on its prey. Oh, he would. It might be a while before he could convince the furry browed man to come to his side, but he suspected he could. He felt something shift inside him, like he now had one objective- to make the Brit his.