Idk what this is but here.
Arthur sat in his chair, trying not to make his movements noticeable as the sound of boisterous children passed his window once again. He'd closed his curtains but that didn't do anything, the children would peer through the cracks and then inform their friends that someone was in fact home.
He hated Halloween so much, he just wanted to read his new book, that was impossible with the doorbell going all night.
This sort of thing didn't happen in England, in England if the curtains were closed you didn't go to the house, no matter how obvious it was that there were people inside.
He heard his phone buzz, he glared at the name on the screen, why the hell was Francis calling him?
"…Oh be quiet," he said to the phone as he pressed the red button, shaking his head and trying to return to his book.
It buzzed again, Arthur glared at it again, gritting his teeth, "I said shut up," he let out a soft huff and internally cursed Francis, glancing over at the window to see if the children had moved on.
He groaned as it buzzed again, he hated that fucking French man so much. "What?!" he yelled as he answered.
He heard heavily accented giggling from the other end of the phone, the damn idiot was drunk calling him from that party he'd gone to.
"Salut Arthur," he cooed after a moment, he could just imagine him, red faced with his eyes glazed as he tried to stumble home.
"What do you want Francis?" Arthur snapped, digging his nails into the arm of the chair.
"Just to talk mon amour," the man slurred, "Gilbert's taking me to… somewhere," he giggled, a different voice suddenly replacing his.
"Hi Arthur?" Gilbert's voice called down the phone.
"Hello Gil," Arthur growled back.
"We're uh, we're all pretty wasted," he giggled, "We're all going back to my place for the night, I don't want them driving like this when there are kids out y'know?"
Arthur frowned: how oddly responsible of him. "Oh ok, well then I'll see you all tomorrow, I'll pick Francis up at 10."
Without another word he hung up, his eyes flicking to the window as he heard more kids, their voices slightly deeper. He swore to himself: the teens were the worst.
He heard the knock at the door and some more bustling, followed by angry shouting. His head jolted up as he heard soft thudding against the door, he knew instantly what they were doing.
He ran to the fridge and picked out a carton of eggs, going quickly to his front door and beginning to throw them at the drunk teenagers. They screamed and began to run.
"Get the fuck out of here!" Arthur yelled, continuing to throw eggs after them. "…Fucking kids…"
"Hey," someone shouted from behind him, "Hey!"
Arthur turned to see a smiling blond man walking towards him, chuckling softly, "What?" he snapped.
"You don't need to get so mad," he said as he approached.
Arthur grit his teeth, "They were egging my house!"
"It's what kids do."
Arthur huffed and shook his head, "This would never happen where I'm from."
The man chuckled softly, "And where would that be?" he looked him up and down, "The 1800's?"
Arthur frowned, completely unamused by the man's attempt at humour. "England," he stated.
The other man smiled at him, looking up and down, "You know you don't need to get so worked up, they're just kids, they're having fun."
"They're hooligans."
He scoffed, "Hey my brother was one of them, he's the nicest boy I know…" he sighed softly, "I'll send him over in the morning to clear up if that'll get him off the hook."
Arthur nodded, straightening up to look at the man, "Fine, but he'll have to come before 10 I have to pick up my, uh, my partner."
The man nodded, "Ok," he said happily, holding out his hand to shake, "I'm Alfred, by the way, Alfred Jones, nice to meet you."
"Oh," Arthur said, taking his hand, "Arthur Kirkland, nice to meet you too."