Chapter 2: Smooth

Alfred continued his job of wiping down the mahogany stand, listening to the slight clinking of bottles as his little brother arranged the beverages so they could work knowing where things were placed. This was ritual for the both of them. The only difference was Alfred was actually going to work alongside his brother making the drinks that night. Their boss had allowed it since Mathew was slowly wearing out from the growing crowd of people that came each night. He couldn't do the work all by himself.

Occasionally when Mathew needed a break, Alfred took over making drinks because he was so damn fast when put to the occasion. Alfred didn't really complete a bar course in University, but enough experience with their father had left him a master at mixing drinks. The fact that the brothers looked so similar kept them off the hook and their boss just turned the blind eye, knowing that they were both good boys.

Alfred's mind drifted back to the days when he was at home making drinks for his father and friends. They had only ever asked for the best, so when Alfred screwed up or knocked a drink over, his intimidating Uncle Sam would point a gun at him. His father had told him that Uncle Sam had killed a guy once, which at first scared Alfred to no ends, until his father only laughed, giving him one simple tip: A drunken man can't aim a gun.

It took a while for Alfred to realise what he meant.

"So what have you done this time?" Mathew strained, knowing that Alfred was up to something.

"Okay, so I met this guy Arthur and-"

"Al, I thought you said you wouldn't do that anymore"

Alfred stopped whipping down the table and turned to face his brother. "It's different, Mattie. Arthur's not like Ivan"

Arthur was a good person and he just needed some help. He wasn't involved in anything illegal and he definitely wasn't a psycho. Arthur just needed someone to support him. Plus, he didn't know why Mathew was so worried. It wasn't like he was convincing a convicted terrorist to put the bomb down and go back to his own country.

"Al, you can't spend your life trying to fix people when you yourself need to be fixed. Plus, remember what happened last time?"

The American stopped to ponder this. As Alfred said before, it was different. Arthur was a walk in the park compared to Ivan. Ivan had been a mistake. A mistake which he would not make again. If only Mathew knew Arthur like he did. Wait...

"Listen, Matt. Why don't you meet him?" The American flashed his brother a determined smile which was returned with a worried huff. His brother turned away to further inspect the bottles, but Alfred's confidence would not falter. Mathew was an amazing judge of character and Arthur was... interesting to say the least. Besides, Arthur was British and Mathew was a sucker for accents. They were sure to hit it off.

"C'mon Mathew..." Alfred pleaded, staring at his brother with puppy dog eyes. There wasn't a time where this trick didn't work.

"Well, I-"

"Then it's a date. And yes, you can bring that boyfriend of yours"


Bursting into his apartment, Alfred sprinted to the phone. He couldn't wait to hear Arthur's gorgeous accent again.

"Iggy~" He cooed.

Arthur leaned against his kitchen bench, trying to ease his overexcitement. This call was probably... Arthur eased the phone away from his ear, almost going deaf. It was Alfred, and Jesus was he loud. "No I do not want to have a Twilight saga" He said bluntly, before Alfred had a chance to ask.

He heard Alfred gasp on the other end of the phone and the last thing he heard was a 'how did you know?' before Arthur decided to smash the phone down and wait for Alfred to ring back.

1, 2, 3....

"Hello Alfred" With a roll of his eyes, Arthur tried to feign displeasure. He actually loved phone calls. It left him less exposed and he always felt more outgoing on the phone.

"That wasn't nice, Artie" Alfred whined, sounding offended.

"And since when do I play nice" Arthur scoffed, an uncharacteristic smile finding its way across his lips "So what is it you wanted?"

"Ah. About that... Fancy a date?"

Arthur could hear the uncertainty in Alfred's voice, and Alfred was rarely uncertain or vulnerable. This was a perfect opportunity to tease him and gain the upper hand. He also didn't want to seem too eager. The last thing he wanted was Alfred thinking he had too much time on his hands.

"A date? Aren't we going a bit fast, Mr. Jones?"

"W-well, you see... I'm meeting my brother's boyfriend for the first time and I need someone to hold me back so I don't knock the bastard out. I could always ask the pretty girl next door-"

"No need, Alfred. I'll go" Arthur answered hastily. The last thing he wanted was for Alfred to take back his offer "The food's free, right?"

"S'all on me, Iggy. I'll pick you up later"

"Can't say no to that" And with that, Arthur hung up. He loosened his grip on the phone and sighed, closing his eyes. Shit. He got you in the end. You're way too eager, Arthur.

Alfred stood alone in his apartment, phone hanging limp in his hands. He breathed out a sigh, trying to silence the thoughts flowing through his head. Alfred was never one to blush, but the moment he heard Arthur say 'Mr. Jones' his face had began to react. This was bad.

'Mr. Jones...' Alfred's thoughts repeated. 'I must record him saying that at some stage'

.................

"Is this casual or formal?" Arthur growled, tossing his clothes on the floor. It'd be nice if Alfred had been a bit more informative. All Arthur got was an 'I'll pick you up later'. Oh well. He could always ask when Alfred showed.

Giving up on finding decent clothes Arthur crashed into his couch. There was nothing he could really do at that very moment. For the first time, Arthur decided to consider the situation.

There were two scenarios to this state of affairs. As a man he would think he was supporting his friend so that things weren't too awkward and if the time came when he wished to knock the guy's lights out Arthur –as his friend – could hold him back or in some cases, join in.

The other scenario was more of a girlish situation. He would be meeting Alfred's brother for the first time and not only that, his brother's partner. Adding onto that, it would be the first date he had ever been on with Alfred.

Is this Bromance or is this really something?

Does this mean I sway towards men?

He wasn't really interested in anyone until now, and he wouldn't really say he was sexually interested in Alfred. Sure, the man was handsome and seemed like great company but it was more of a curiosity than anything else. Besides, it's not like someone can fall in love or even begin to like someone that way in four days. It was probably an infatuation.

"This is stupid" Arthur muttered, deciding to leave things at that. Some good old music would serve as a good intervention.

Arthur rummaged through his stack of CDs, noticing how disorganised he really was. Some had been sprawled out on his table, others in a completely different album case. And wait – were there disks lying around without cases here? Peter had probably been the culprit. There was no way in hell Arthur would be responsible for this mess. Actually, everything here had been gaining dust. How long had it been since Arthur had listened to his music?

Picking up a mistreated disk, Arthur turned it around to find it was his old Bon Jovi album. God he and Peter had loved Bon Jovi. They had used to jump together on Arthur's bed, singing together their favourite songs. That is, until their mother got sick of their beds breaking and bought them a trampoline and a CD player.

Rubbing the disk against his shirt, Arthur placed the CD into the player to see how damaged it was. The gods were on his side when he found that the despite it's battered appearance, it was completely fine.

Before long he found himself standing on his couch his remote control in hand, singing at the top of his lungs. "It's my life!"

This was his and Peter's favourite song. It was how they had decided they would live their life – living with no regrets and not stopping just because someone else didn't agree. They would live by their own principles and no one would hold them down. Of course, Arthur changed when he got into college. Reality had bashed down on him and he realised that things weren't that simple.

"It's now or never!"

How long had it been since he had so much fun by himself?

"I ain't-"

Arthur dropped the remote, feeling his feet sink slowly into his couch cushions. "How long have you been there?" He questioned, glaring at an amused Alfred that stood leaning lazily against the wall.

"Long enough" He answered with a victorious smirk. It was funny to catch people in their more private moments.

Arthur stepped down from the couch and stopped his CD player, pulling the disk out and finding a makeshift case to put it in. He would clean up that godforsaken mess later. "You came early" He muttered with a blush of embarrassment still visible on his cheeks.

"Well, yeah. Sorry 'bout that. It's just I want to get my mind off meeting..."

"I don't mind" Arthur cut in, ushering Alfred over to the couch.

While he could, Arthur took in what Alfred was wearing. It wasn't that he was checking Alfred out or anything. He just wanted to know if the outing was casual or not.

Alfred had a striped open zipped jacket with a black shirt with the picture of a white tie underneath. His trademark two pairs of jeans still remained but this time a metal chain was seen dangling from a pair.

"I don't know if you're a scene kid or a gangster that doesn't want people to see his knickers" Arthur muttered, shaking his head at Alfred as he took a seat.

"Hey, I'm neither. I wear my mind on my sleeve"

"Is that why you rarely wear a shirt?"

"Har Har" Alfred retorted, rolling his eyes. "You're no better. You shouldn't go about thinking wearing skinnies in the middle of winter is normal"

The last thing Arthur wanted was for that to be brought up since it had left him bed ridden for a good couple of days with the worst god awful flu he had ever experienced. It had felt like he was hit in the head with a jackhammer while he had a hangover dealing with a bad case of food poisoning. It had even come to the point where he had asked for Alfred to come over and take care of him, which was rare for the Brit.

Not realising that while he was remembering his horrifying experience, a glarefest had ensured between him and Alfred, and being the introverted person he was, he averted his gaze and changed the subject. "What's the occasion?" Arthur strained, jerking Alfred up and leading him to his bedroom. He pointed to the large mountain of clothing and turned to Alfred. The look he received was nothing but 'say no more'.

"Tell you what. Go have a shower and I'll pick something out. I'm pretty good with this sort of stuff" Alfred flashed Arthur another one of his trademark grins, giving him thumbs up.

"Alrighty then"

Arthur ran his hand through his hair before leaving the room. Sure, he was anxious about someone else other than him in his room, but it was Alfred so he was sure nothing would go missing. Besides, it wasn't like Alfred could fit into his clothes anyway.


Alfred paced around the room, soaking in his surroundings. Arthur sure had tried hard to find something to wear to cause a mess like this. He had only been in Arthur's room a couple of times since they first met, and this was the first time he could really get a good look.

The room was cosy and had a homey feel to it, much like Arthur's entire house. Lots and lots of memories seemed dormant and even though Alfred hadn't personally made any memories of Arthur's house, everything seemed nostalgic. Nothing like Alfred's modern flat.

The American took in a deep whiff, his brain filtering the unique and beautiful smells. The scent was cigarettes and a mild hint of coconut rum, which Alfred disregarded. There was a scent and air about the room that made Alfred's senses tingle.

'This was Arthur's room. This was Arthur's smell.'

He bent down, rubbing his thumbs against a 'Bullet for my Valentine' shirt. Arthur sure did take care of his clothes. Judging by the faded picture at the front, it had gone through years of washing, yet the material itself was still strong and well looked after. Arthur hadn't even stretched it.

Dropping the shirt and snapping out of his curious daze, Alfred began to rummage through the rest of Arthur's attire. He had to stop looking through Arthur's belongings. Arthur's things were none of his business.

Pulling out a pair of black dress skinnies, Alfred pressed them against his own jeans, comparing Arthur's size with his own. God Arthur was small. He had never actually realised that until now. The man barely had any meat at all on his bones.

Alfred delved into Arthur's huge pile of attire further, finding an old Bon Jovi shirt. Images of Arthur's spontaneous outburst prier filled Alfred's head and he couldn't help but laugh. God that was funny. No wonder Arthur's friend had put him on YouTube. The man was so anal at times, so the rare occasions when he let his guard down and acted like a total spaz were priceless.

Laying the chosen clothes on the bed, Alfred stood around awkwardly for a minute before deciding to sit himself down on the mattress and wait for Arthur . The bed seemed slightly stiff and worn out, yet he guessed it did the job.

'I wonder if this bed creeks' Alfred thought with amusement. He began to bounce up and down, hearing a loud squeak emitting from the mattress at his every single small movement. Poor Arthur. The whole world would probably be able to hear him if he ever actually brought a girl home. If he ever brought a girl home.

Trying to stray his thoughts away from Arthur's lack of a sex life, his eyes fell on a framed picture by the Brit's nightstand. Subconsciously, Alfred picked it up, rubbing the dust off the old picture frame.

It was of a small boy and a young Arthur covered in what looked like cake. They were both grinning, clumps of it on their face and lodged in their hair. How cute. Arthur had been holding the little boy up, their cheeks bumping together with matching grins on both their faces. This must have been Arthur's little brother.


Arthur stepped into the room, a pair of union jack boxers keeping him respectable and a towel covering his sandy locks. He stared uncomfortably at Alfred, who was sitting on his bed with a smile etched across his face. What was that guy up to?

Raising his brow, the Brit edged over, peering at the clothes neatly laid out on his bed.

"I thought a Bon Jovi shirt was appropriate" Alfred chuckled, turning around and giving Arthur privacy.

"You're an asshole, you know that?"

Alfred could hear the sound of fabric brushing against skin as Arthur got changed. Without making it seem too obvious, the American had briefly checked out Arthur's body when he had walked in. Alfred was right. Arthur was quite skinny. Alfred could easily see the bumps of Arthur's ribs and his malnourished legs. He had never seen someone so bony.

"What's wrong, Alfred?" Arthur questioned, noticing the change in the American's usual self. "I'm not used to not having to tell you to shut up"

Alfred could hear the sound of a belt wrap around the thin Brit's waist, so he took it that Arthur was decent enough for him to turn around. "Nothing really, Iggy. Just looking at that picture on your nightstand..." He murmured, his tone sort of saddened. All he wanted to do now was give the Brit a nice big burger and a good ol' feed.

Walking over to the picture on his stand, he seated himself next to Alfred, gazing at the picture with something Alfred couldn't comprehend in his eyes. "This was Peter's fourth birthday. I was about Thirteen at the time. When I picked the kid up, the brat rubbed cake in my face" Arthur said sourly. "We were inseparable back then. Now he only comes to see me on weekends"

Alfred chuckled. "You're lucky. I only see my brother at work. Apart from that I can never figure out where he is"

"Well, I have no idea why Peter always comes back. I've let him down so much, but he never gives up on me. Some days I wish he'd just realise I'm not the person I used to be" Arthur confessed.

"You don't have to be the person you used to be. Just stop letting the kid down" Alfred consoled, nudging Arthur's arm with confidence.

"Let's get off this topic and get going"


Arthur stepped into the bar, feeling more self conscious the closer they got. It wasn't that he felt awkward about meeting Alfred's brother. He was fine with that. It was the fact that he was meeting people he had never met before. He was never a social person, and the last time he did something like this he drank too much and made a fool of himself. Note to self: Lay off the drinks tonight, Arthur.

"Calm down. It's not like you're meeting my parents" Alfred reassured, nudging his arm lightly. Arthur pressed his lips firmly together and lowered his brows anxiously. Anyone related to Alfred couldn't be that bad, right? Things would be fine...

Alfred spotted his brother and lightly gestured towards them, pushing Arthur lightly with him. "Hi Mattie!" Alfred exclaimed, ruffling his little brother's hair.

Arthur lifted his hand awkwardly, waving to Alfred's look alike with unease "Greetings" He muttered, sitting himself down.

"Hello" Mathew welcomed curiously, noticing Arthur's accent "So I take it you're Arthur?"

"Correct" Arthur said, smiling lightly "And you're Mathew, right?"

"Mhm" Mathew acknowledged. "Francis will be coming any minute now, Alfred"

Arthur's face darkened making Mathew raise an eyebrow. "Alfred could I talk to you for a minute? Excuse me Mathew" Arthur smiled apologetically.

Arthur more forcefully than intended jerked Alfred out of his seat and dragged him to the back of the pub. He could hear Alfred's protests, but he didn't care since this was much more important. "Alfred, you know how there was that guy who exploited me and put me on YouTube?" Arthur hissed, making Alfred stop in his tracks. Time to drop the bombshell. "That's the guy your brother's dating"

Arthur could see mixed emotions play out on Alfred's face, but the first was undeniably anger. "Look, we can get this bastard later, but right now I've got to prove to Matt that you're a good guy. I sort of said to him that if he didn't like you I wouldn't talk to you anymore"

"You've got to be fucking kidding me. What are we, dating?" Arthur barked his accent becoming thicker.

The look on Alfred's face confirmed his suspicions. Arthur raised his eyebrows for a minute, opening his mouth to say something before his eyebrows descended and he exhaled a dignified huff. "You owe me" He hissed, walking towards the table with a fake smile plastered across his face.

"So what were you guys talking about?" Mathew asked inquisitively, eyeing Arthur with suspicion. Arthur only averted his gaze shyly, pressing his lips on his straw. Mathew had ordered drinks while he and Alfred had had their little discussion, which was a blessing since Arthur now had something else to focus his attention on other than chitchat.

"Nothing really" Alfred answered absentmindedly, subconsciously placing his arm around the seat. Usually he kept to himself when it came to sitting next to friends, but a paranoid dominance thing kicked in when it came to Arthur. Especially since most people had seen the man naked from that stupid YouTube video.

"Bon Jovi..." Mathew read, his eyes fixated on Arthur's shirt.

"Yeah" Arthur murmured, exchanging glances with Alfred. "Bon Jovi got me into guitar in high school. Not only that, his music was something that my brother and I shared in common. We used to sit outside on the trampoline, just listening to his music" Arthur reminisced, turning scarlet from embarrassment "Sorry; I'm boring you aren't I?"

Mathew instantly lifted his hands, shaking his head "Of course not!" Mathew exclaimed. "Me and Alfred had something like that too" Mathew informed. "Yet instead of Bon Jovi, we had Santana"

"Yeah, I remember that. We'd listen to the song 'Smooth' over and over. It used to annoy Dad so much" Alfred added.

"Mhm! Remember the time he got so angry, he threw a bottle of whiskey at us" Mathew grinned, recalling their childhood. The two boys both cracked up, hi 5ing each other spontaneously.

"Ah, the good old days" Alfred said.

All Arthur could do while listening to their nostalgic exchange was sit there appalled, wondering how they could talk so happily about such a violent act from their father.

"What were your parents like, Arthur?"

Arthur thought for a second, wondering if he should tell the brothers the truth. "My dad smoked and drank a lot. In fact, he got me into it. He was a good guy though. My mother was the sweetest lady you would ever meet. She died when I was about eighteen along with my father. After that, my brother and I moved in with my dad's mates, Berwald and Tino" A sad smile ghosted itself across Arthur's lips. He hadn't told many people about his parents.

"I can't really say we can relate, but our family was a bit on the eccentric side as well. Our dad and his side were heavy drinkers, and we were the ones usually making their drinks. In fact, our uncle Sam used to point a gun at us whenever we did something wrong" Mathew reassured, trying to make Arthur feel a bit more comfortable. "He could never actually shoot us though. Even when he was sober he had a horrible aim"

"Our mum was gorgeous in her younger years. Now that I think about it, I don't understand why she ended up with our dad. She just did. Met the bastard in high school and never left him" Alfred smirked, nudging Arthur with his fist. "True love, aye?" Mathew put in.

At that moment, a figure stepped over to their table, a rose loosely fitted in his perfect hand. "How is everyone this evening?" A heavy French accent asked politely, seating himself next to Mathew and scooting over to the point the poor boy barely had any personal space. He placed the rose he had been dangling around in Mathews hand and kissed his fingertips softly.

"Francis that is Alfred, my brother and his date, Arthur"

Francis turned his head,= at the sound of the name 'Arthur' and a confident grin stretched across his handsome features. "Have we met?" He questioned, raising an inquisitive brow towards Arthur.

Of course we have you stupid twat. I've known you since the days I shat in a nappy and ate dirt. Remember me? I set your ex-girlfriend's hair on fire by accident . Best friend my arse.

Arthur felt Alfred nudge his leg against his. Oh yeah. He wasn't allowed to insult Francis. "Can't say we have" Arthur answered with venom in his tone. Arthur glared at his cup for comfort. If his eyes met with that French bastard, he would have to commit murder.

"Oh I'm sure I've seen you somewhere" Francis provoked, stroking his slight stubble with his index finger and thumb. Francis had known Arthur was self-conscious about the fact that he didn't have facial hair. It caused him a lot of grief when he wanted to get into pubs and he had to constantly argue that he was indeed over the age of eighteen.

"Well, I might know where" Arthur said with a victorious smirk, deciding to use the video against him. "This really worthless asshole, and I mean a huge shit headed jerk, put me on the internet when I was drunk on New Years. Really, some people have no lives. This obsessive stalker has done this to me on a number of occasions too. That's probably where you've seen me" Arthur concluded.

"That's awful" Mathew soothed. "Have you found the person who did that yet?"

"No, but I've got a pretty good idea on who did it..." Arthur said slyly. Oh how fun it was to finally be able to turn this around.

He exchanged a smirk of amusement with Alfred, before the duo both glanced towards Francis. A scowl had replaced Francis' confident smile which Arthur took a mental picture of. Oh god he wished he had a camera.

"I mean no offence, Arthur was it? But I believe you were also in the wrong from getting so drunk you acted like a... how you say... Total ass" Francis said innocently, his accent as thick as always.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that? I have trouble understanding your accent" Arthur said, feigning politeness.

Francis chuckled lightly, "As do I, my English friend"

Arthur would have loved to snap 'I'm not your friend, you bloody frog!' but he had said to Alfred that he wouldn't cause too much conflict and he wasn't one to go back on his word.

"So how long have you two known each other, Alfred?" Francis asked, keeping his eyes on Arthur. One would say this was Francis continuing the conversation, but Arthur knew better. Francis was slowly setting a trap.

"Quite a while now" Alfred lied. "Me and Iggy are inseparable"

Now it was Arthur's turn to kick Alfred's leg. He had exposed the embarrassing nickname in front of Francis. A person who had ridiculed Arthur for over twenty years now. Francis was sure to tell his co-workers about this.

"So Arthur, I hope you don't mind me asking, but what is your... sexual orientation?" The bastard asked, leaning his chin on his hands. Arthur knew his main agenda for tonight was toying with Arthur as much as he could, but Arthur would not give him that satisfaction.

As much as he wished to say 'None of your god damn business', he had decided to answer truthfully. Not because the French man was using this as a way to provoke his more detestable attitude, but because he could tell the American next to him was eagerly awaiting an answer.

"To be honest, I'm not too sure. I've never really expressed any interesting in anyone until now so I can't really find a definite answer for you. Other than that, I don't really look at gender when I meet a person. If I enjoy the person's company, I may start to like them despite their gender. I guess that makes me Bi-sexual, but I'd rather meet the love of my life than turn down the opportunity just because they were a man" Arthur answered honestly, surprising even himself.

From years of knowing Francis, he had known that the only way to deflect the asshole's moves was to answer as sincerely as possible. That way he just looks like a douchefor asking.

Feeling triumphant, Arthur took a sip of his coke and instantly regretted looking up. To his shock, everyone at the table had been staring at him, especially Alfred. The brothers probably thought he was a weirdo now. Fuck.

A light laughter sounded from Francis before he breathed "Good answer" He made a toasting notion towards Arthur and muttered to Mathew "I like this one"

As everyone resumed their conversations, a new found respect for Arthur had began, yet all Arthur could think about was the fact that in all the years he had known Francis, this was the first time he had actually ever received an honest word of praise from the man.


Hmmn...

This chapter was sort of hard for me, since I promised it to be more exciting yet failed miserably. God I suck.

The next chapter will hopefully have more in it though. I want to introduce Arthur's workmates D

Reviews are extremely appreciated :D