It was a very hot day, one that made any kind of physical affection unbearable. Alfred knew that Arthur wouldn't even /consider/ sex at the time, so he decided to relieve some of the stress on his own. Carelessly leaving the door unlocked, the American grabbed one of his many magazines from the closet and flopped onto the bed.

It just so happened that the Brit himself was headed to the comfort of the air conditioned bedroom, a paper fan that he had lazily folded fanning him wildly. "Hey-" he was just about to start, but stopped cold. "Alfred? What the hell are you doing?" he couldn't help but to question, eyebrows knitting together. There was his lover, hand halfway down his pants, a magazine opened before him.

Alfred didn't seem to even hear him; right as the other spoke, he'd let out a moan. "Ahh~" His tired eyes were glued to the hourglass shaped woman on the page.

Arthur approached like a predator upon his prey, peering over his lover's shoulder. "Alfred, what the fuck?! That's disgusting." He reached out and snatched up the magazine, slamming it shut between the palms of his hands, then rolling it up and smacking his boyfriend over the head with it. "I like erotica magazines as well, but I don't whack off to them WITH THE DOOR WIDE OPEN WHEN MY BOYFRIEND IS HOME. That's nasty."

"Hey, I shut the door! Can't I have some privacy?" Alfred growled, his face turning bright red with shame. "I thought you were busy, and it's obviously too hot to have sex, but I was in /that mood/ so I decided to take care of it myself! What's the big deal?"

"Privacy?! This is not something you're allowed to have /privacy/ for! I'm truly insulted, Jones." With a huff, the Brit threw down the magazine, spinning on his heel. "But watch out. Don't think this will go without a retaliation."

"You just said you like erotica yourself! It's not my fault you walked in without knocking...!" Alfred pouted. "I'm embarrassed as it is. Do you really have to 'retaliate' or whatever that even means?"

"Yes, I do. Because I also said I would never masturbate to a magazine like that. I don't blame you for looking at it; women are nice, but wanking is another story." That was the last word the Brit said before disappearing behind the door, shutting it very quietly, too quietly. /'You'll see how painful it feels...'/

"Women /are/ nice!" Alfred shouted back, clenching his fists. "And a woman probably wouldn't get angry at me for trying to relieve stress!" He locked the door and huffed, returning to his bed.

Later that evening, a knock was heard at the door. Arthur stood from the couch, where he had been camping out since the incident, and went to answer it. "Francis! It's good to see you, I haven't seen you in forever!" he greeted the Frenchman, purposefully raising his voice loud enough so Alfred could hear it. He embraced his old friend, squeezing tightly.

"It's nice to see you too, Arthur!" Francis chuckled, giving him a kiss on the cheek before glancing into the living room. "Where is Alfred? He's home, isn't he?"

"Yes, he's home. He's just being a little twit today." He snorted, glancing over his shoulder. His boyfriend had to be somewhere nearby... He must have been curious about who was at the door. Arthur spun back to Francis, stepping uncomfortably close, a hand extending up and gently touching his jawline. "Wow, you're growing out your beard, I see. How nice and mature!"

"Oh, thank you! And I thought nobody was noticing it, hohon~" Francis chuckled. Alfred was standing at the top of the stairs with a demonic look in his eyes that seemed to say "fuck you."

Arthur took a few deliberate moments to finally notice his boyfriend standing at the top of the stairs, pulling away from Francis. "Oh, honey! There you are! I hope you don't mind, I invited Francis over for dinner since we haven't seen him for such a long time." Once the American was down the stairs, Arthur took a tight hold of his shoulders, leaning in towards his ear and whispering a very quiet "I told you I would get my payback."

"Payback? I don't know what you're talking about." Alfred shrugged him away and gave Francis a hug. "Hey Frenchie!" Francis smiled warmly and gave Alfred a kiss on the cheek as well. "Bonjour, Alfie! I didn't have time to make any pie, but I was able to make a small batch of cookies before I came. Would you like to try one? I'm worried they came out bad because I was in such a rush!"

Arthur's eyes narrowed challengingly at his lover, crossing his arms. "Oh come on Francis, offer me one, too! And you're still making sweets? How do you do it? You're so slim and fit!"

Alfred froze at hearing the remark, a strange feeling then rising in his chest. /'Did he seriously just go there?'/ He turned back to Arthur, giving him a glare as he shoved the cookie into his mouth. "They're delicious! Man, I wish you'd cook for me instead of Arthur. It'd probably save my stomach a lot of distress."

Arthur's jaw dropped open in shock. /'Did he seriously just go there?'/ "Oh yes, please do, Francis. Because it's tiring to make two boxes of pasta for my sweet, growing boy here." Arthur stalked closer, eyes glaring sharp, toxic green daggers into Alfred.

"Um, is there something going on between you two...?" Francis asked, giving Arthur a worried look.

"I'd be 'growing' a little more if those two boxes of pasta didn't go through me like a bullet, haha!" Alfred added with a fake laugh, ignoring Francis's concerned question.

"Well maybe you would actually fit into your goddamn clothes without popping a button if you didn't eat TWO BOXES OF PASTA." Arthur's eyes narrowed only further into thin, threatening slits. "Go sit your fat ass down, then, please, /honey/. I was going to cook, but if you hate my cooking so much, we don't have to eat anything."

Shocked, Francis glanced at Arthur. "Come on dear, was that truly necessary...?"

Alfred's somewhat irritated expression changed in an instant, tears filling his eyes. "F-fuck you! I hope you choke on your disgusting food!" He shoved past them and ran up the stairs, loudly shutting the bedroom door.

"Alright, tell me what happened. Obviously something is going on between you two, and I was invited over here just so you could use me as a vessel for your anger. So tell me." Francis sighed. Arthur only pouted childishly, refusing to speak.

"You're just like Alfred, dear..."

"Fine, fine! He... he was using a playboy magazine for his disgusting, childish pleasure! And while I was in the house, too! He could've come to me, yet he turned to a magazine filled with photoshopped boobs...!" Arthur's voice cracked, and he turned away from Francis before any emotion could show. "He chose a fake woman over me..."

"Did you ask him /why/?" Francis asked. He rested a hand on Arthur's shoulder and gave him a comforting hug, only to be shoved away.

"No. He's a jerk and that's probably all there is to it. I don't blame him for finding those models sexier than me anyway..."

"Don't be ridiculous. He must have had a reason for it, and whether you find it a good one or not, he deserves a chance to explain. Along with that, he probably feels horrible now. So go upstairs and don't come back down without him." Before Arthur could respond, Francis was shoving him toward the stairs.

Arthur glared at Francis a moment before heading upstairs, opening the bedroom door just a crack. "Alfred? May I come in?"

Alfred was wrapped up in the blankets; with a shaky voice he replied, "If it's about how fat I am, then no. I probably know it already."

Sighing, Arthur stepped into the room and sat next to him, resting a hand on his thigh. "I'm a huge dick."

"I know."

"...And I reacted so immaturely. I /knew/ I was being immature, but I just made it worse and worse because I can't accept that I'm wrong sometimes." Arthur kissed his cheek and gave him a tight hug. "I'm so sorry..."

Alfred buried his face into Arthur's shoulder. "I was kind of rude to you too, though... And I really only did it because I thought you wouldn't want to do anything with me since it's so hot out... And I couldn't really control myself. I'll throw away the magazines, okay?"

"No, you can do whatever the hell you want. I don't have a right to control what you do when I'm not here."

"But I don't want them anymore if they make you jealous! I'll just give them to Mattie since he's too shy to buy his own, haha!" Alfred's usual annoying voice had returned now, letting Arthur relax a little more. "And anyway, you're hotter than any of those babes! None of them would probably want to kiss me or tell me I'm cute anyway!"

"Don't lie to me, you little dork. But in case you were still upset, /I'd/ rather have you over Francis." He slipped his arms around Alfred and brought their faces together, close enough so that their noses were touching. "I'd compare him to a fish; pretty to look at, but not nearly as fun to snuggle with compared to a kitten like you."

"Aw, why am I a cat? I'm an alpha dog, woof! And you're the cat!" Alfred licked Arthur's cheek and began panting like a dog, pinning him down on the bed.

"Ew, Alfred! Did you really have to lick me?" Arthur grumbled as he wiped his cheek.

"Would you be happier if I bit you?" Alfred teased, winking at him.

"Maybe."

Alfred giggled, but before he could begin, he whispered, "What about Francis? Are we just gonna leave him down there?"

"He'll figure it out. We'll make it up to him later." Arthur breathed, shutting Alfred up with a rough kiss. "For now, I want you to make me scream like one of those pretty young women, alright~?"