A rather diabolical Hungarian receptionist switched on some private security cameras. After staring wide-eyed at the monitor for a moment or two, she immediately hit speed dial number five.
"Oui? Francis here." A rather amused voice said.
"Francis, Antonio, it's getting good! He's actually getting the massage! I'll be sure to send you guys the full footage when they finish." She struggled to keep her voice below a fangirl squee.
"Why not just post it on your blog? I'll be sure to see it. Add a download link." Antonio said, jumping in to the conversation.
"Sounds good. I'll do that. Talk to you later."
"Au reviour. Adios!" The phone line clicked shut, leaving Eliza free to enjoy her recording of the happenings inside a certain massage room.
"…Are you okay? I think I need more lotion."
"I'm fine. Keep going."
"No, I don't really think-"
"Just go ahead, would you?"
"Fine, but I've been working on your lower lumbaric muscle groups too long, so I think I need to switch to your upper back." Alfred said firmly, then moved around the table to get access to said upper back.
"Ow!" Trying to work on his back was like trying to knead solid wood.
"Isn't that my line? I'm the one getting the massage here."
"Not this time." Alfred stopped for a second to take off his glasses; they kept sliding down his nose. He blinked when his sight turned a little fuzzy, but he could still make out everything fairly well.
When he started massaging again, Arthur made a small noise of disapproval. "Lower..ah, that's better." Every touch felt…comfortableto Arthur for some reason. He shook it off. Maybe that was all part of his own brain, layered in blissful fizz of relaxation…that was, if he could relax. Reasonably less uptight was the best he seemed to get.
Alfred, on the other hand, seemed to be getting better at working with the incredibly stiff muscles that lay beneath the skin of a certain English gentleman. He had begun to wonder if Arthur was actually a brick that Francis had bewitched to speak and move. Well, he did have a stiff manner…Alfred chuckled at his own bad pun.
"What are you laughing at?" Arthur said grumpily, his scowl lost on the masseur who couldn't see his face through the table.
"Nothing.
There was a bit of silence before Alfred spoke up. "Y'know, I really think they did send you in here as a joke, 'cause Gil's always telling me to go out and-"
A jolt of recognition hit Arthur. "'Gil'? I take it you mean Gilbert Beilschimdt?"
"Yeah. Why?"
When all three of them are involved, something bad happens, Arthur thought, but didn't wish to alarm the poor boy.
"Oh, nothing. So what did he say?"
"Well, he'd always say I needed to go out more, meet more people who… well…were more my type, but I'd always say no, so it figured one day he would send someone to me." Alfred concluded, leaving Arthur a pretty clear picture of what the American's "type" was.
"Well, I suppose you may be right," Arthur said, glancing down at his hands, folded in his lap, "I'm somewhat ashamed to say that Francis forced me into coming here, and if you know the Bad Touch Trio-"
Alfred raised an eyebrow. "The what?"
"It's an office nickname for Antonio, Francis, and your friend Gilbert. They're the biggest pranksters of the entire building."
The American sounded a bit sheepish. "It's not really like Gil's my friend, well, we might play Xbox Live together a lot, but after the whole thing when he got involved with my brother, well…" Alfred let the statement hang.
"I can see how that would shift things." Arthur commented.
"Yeah, well, Mattie's practically all the family I have left, so it was pretty serious. Let's just say a few bones were broken, and none of them belonged to me."
"My brothers aren't anything like yours, it seems." Arthur said, thinking back to the battleground which had made up their house in his childhood years.
"Really? What're they like?" Alfred said, raising an eyebrow as his interest piqued. A useless expression, as his client was currently facing the floor tiles.
"Ah, rambunctious, irritable, rude, imbecilic, disrespectful, idiotic…shall I go on?" The Brit said in an even tone.
"Sure, can't say I don't like the accent." The American said cheerfully as he used the heel of his hand to focus in on one particularly stiff muscle, making the Englishman wince.
"Ow!" Likes my accent? Is he trying to seduce me or some other ridiculous plot…
"Sorry, but it's part of the massage. Anyways, doesn't sound like your brother are nice guys."
"That is quite the understatement. As kids they would mercilessly destroy anything in their paths. Now its quite a bit better, since one of my older brothers, Erin, red hair, even more fiery temper, finally got married to this Asian girl a few years back, and thank goodness she keeps him in check.
"Getting hitched does that to some guys, y'know?" Alfred stopped for a second to put more lotion on his hands, giving Arthur some more time to talk.
"Well, unfortunately, one of them had moved back with us, unfortunately, but it's nice to have someone to take care of Peter, my younger brother."
Alfred whistled. "That's a lot of names. How many?"
"Four altogether. The eldest three are the worst, but at least Peter can be tolerable at times. That is, when he's not calling me 'Jerk Arthur'."
The masseur smirked. "'Jerk Arthur'? Seems to me you have a fan club."
"Want to join? I'll give you the brochure." Arthur said sarcastically.
"I'd take one. You seem like a nice guy." The Brit couldn't tell whether he was joking or not.
Eliza was currently watching her video feed and eating popcorn at the time, holding back shrieks of glee every time the slightest event happened. On the other half of her screen, her blog, Ravings of a Hungarian Fangirl, displayed her latest posts in chronological order.
Quickly typing a reply to DoujinLover204, she noticed that her phone seemed to be having a psychological breakdown as it vibrated dangerously close to the edge of her desk. Saving her device from certain suicide, she answered.
"Francis?"
"Oui. Eliza, are you sure our Arthur hasn't murdered the therapist yet?" Francis said curiously.
"Sure as can be. It seems fine in there. Why did you want to know?"
She could almost hear the smirk in the Frenchman's voice. "Let us just say Gilbert now owes me more than he could ever pay back."
"Oh, get that idiot in the office, I can tell its about to get good. He'll need some pointers the next time he tries to make a move."
The blonde winced, remembering the scene. "Indeed, so you do recall what happened when he tried to ask out that Swiss man."
Eliza scoffed, "I bet he could have outrun that bullet anyway. And to think I went to all the trouble to set him up. What's true love if there's no risk?"
Francis chuckled. "A bit too much risk for our poor Gil to take. And Eliza?"
"Yes?"
"You remember our bet, don't you?"
The Hungarian smiled deviously. "Oh Francis, don't worry, I promise you he'll have a date by the time he steps into your office tomorrow. You might as well pay me now."
"We'll see about that."
A/N: Okay, that's probably all the regular updates for me, but I tend to compromise length when I go for regular updates, so I'll stick to my whenever-I-write-enough-and-computers-work updating schedule like I usually do. Usually means anywhere from three days to three weeks. Hopefully the former XD Anyways, that's all, folks!
Oh, and why was Ireland married to some Asian girl? Because my mind pairs strange things together.
And to make this note even longer, could you please go to my profile to vote on a poll I have there? *puppy dog eyes* pleeease?
~Black Rose Heart~