Candles flickered along the walls, casting shadows that attracted his attention, and he watched them for several long moments. Modestly dressed and unobtrusive, Arthur sat quietly in the back of the church. The preacher's voice carried well enough for him to hear, though he wasn't quite paying attention. It was just a pleasant noise in the background, helping to soothe and relax him as he gazed at the high windows and vaulted ceiling. The building was beautiful, there was no doubt about that, and he felt entirely comfortable to sit there and absorb the peace that filled this chapel. The weak morning sunlight made the stained glass in the windows glow just slightly, and Arthur knew that they would be absolutely stunning in an hour or so once the sun rose a little higher. For now, though, the colors were soft and peaceful as they illuminated the building, and that suited him just fine. He liked how peaceful church services were. Today, he'd decided to attend a Catholic service. Maybe next week would be Protestant. He wouldn't decide until he woke up next Sunday—who knew what he'd be in the mood for a week from now.

Arthur barely noticed when the pastor finished his sermon and the other people who had attended the mass began to get up and leave. His attention was locked on the candles and their shadows again and it wasn't until he and only a few others remained that it occurred to the Brit that he should probably clear out before someone came to ask him if he needed something.

A quiet, content sigh escaped him as he stood, stretching his back so it popped once or twice, straightened his blazer, and left the building. Fresh, cool morning air greeted him once he walked out the doors, and he smiled slightly before heading off down the sidewalk. It was a lovely morning, though the news last night claimed that it was going to rain later in the day. That was no surprise, and it was of little consequence because he fully intended to be home by the time the weather was supposed to turn sour.

For now, though, he wandered along until he came to a wrought-iron fence, and then he followed that until he found the gate. Beyond was a small park, a place where families could come for picnics and to fly kites when the weather permitted. Smiling and with his hands neatly tucked into his pockets, Arthur went through the gate and into the park. The sidewalk led him past open, grassy spaces and small groups of trees, eventually passing a wooden park bench with a dedication plaque embedded on the back. Arthur had never managed to read the faded words; he assumed whomever it was dedicated to had played a large part in creating this park.

Abandoning the path, Arthur chose instead to sit and enjoy the quickly strengthening sunlight and listen to the sounds of birds and other small animals as they went about their business in the trees and grass around him. It was almost as peaceful as the church had been. Now, though, he felt he had a little more freedom to let his thoughts wander, and before long he found himself thinking about one thing in particular.

I should invite Alfred.

But it will be boring. He'll be bored. He wouldn't want to go to something like that.

Maybe, but there's no harm in asking. You'll have more fun if he goes. Alfred would add a little excitement.

The American was refreshing company, but Arthur wasn't sure if he wanted to invite him. They'd only just met, after all, and as well as the date had gone, he was nervous. What if Alfred said no? A handsome young man like Alfred would certainly have better things to do in London than attend some stuffy faculty party. Even if he did like Arthur enough to say yes out of courtesy, he would probably be bored out of his mind listening to a few old men talk about their adventures in banking. Still, it would impress his colleagues if Arthur showed up with someone like Alfred as his Plus One. He'd never brought a Plus One to any of the faculty parties and he had a feeling that his coworkers thought he had absolutely no love life. Not that he minded such an opinion—it was better than everyone knowing what a train wreck his love life tended to be.

Just call him and ask. So what if he says no?

But Arthur didn't want to call. He didn't want to seem clingy or overly attached after only one date. Besides, Alfred had promised to call him today, so all he had to do was wait. Then he would use the opportunity to ask. Hell, he could even suggest that it be their second date—the party itself might be a little boring but they could always go out for drinks afterwards, if they wanted. Or he could invite the American over.

That made Arthur pause and he blinked several times before shaking his head.

"Idiot," the blond muttered, frowning to himself. "Not already."

He'd never thought he would meet someone he was so willing to share his life with so quickly. All of his past relationships had to be several serious dates in before Arthur even considered inviting them over to his house. Sure, Alfred knew where he lived, but that was entirely different from asking the American to come inside. Inviting someone into his home was a cause of a large amount of stress for Arthur and it wasn't something he did on a whim. He always took a day to clean and make sure everything was spotless. Sometimes, he even took the time to rearrange the furniture to try to make it more visually appealing.

Yet there he was, thinking to himself that he might invite the American model over later that week. Only a few days from now. Already? After one date? He was already attached to him enough that he was willing to invite the man into his home.

What is wrong with me? Have I suddenly lost all my common sense? He's a vacationing model, for Christ's sake! I shouldn't be getting this involved with him. Not so quickly, at least.

Unbidden, images of Alfred's smile, the way his blue eyes absolutely shone behind his glasses and how his hair was somehow always perfectly messy, filled the Brit's mind and he groaned, covering his face with his hands. This was getting completely out of hand and he didn't know what he was supposed to do about it. He could try avoiding the American, but he didn't want to do that. He liked Alfred too much, and it would hurt the tall man's feelings if he did that. Besides, he'd decided that stepping out of his comfort zone for once would be good for him. Why should he change his mind just because he was actually enjoying himself? Alfred didn't make him uncomfortable and he didn't feel rushed or anything of the sort. It was just his usual caution stepping in and urging him to slow down. And it was surprising that he wanted to invite Alfred to come to his apartment, but it wasn't something Arthur thought he should be worried about. What harm was there in wanting to get to know the American a little better?

None. There's nothing wrong with being attracted to him. He's attractive. He's kissable. Very kissable. Of course I want to spend more time with him. I'll invite him to the faculty party. If that goes well, then maybe afterwards I'll invite him over for a drink and just to talk. It doesn't have to go any farther than that.

He didn't let himself add "not yet" onto the end of his thought because part of him wasn't ready to admit how very attracted he was to Alfred. Not that he could blame himself. Anyone would be. But Arthur was a gentleman and letting his emotions get the better of him wasn't something he easily allowed.

"One step at a time, Arthur," he assured himself, then stood and started back towards the park entrance. By slight rumble his stomach decided to make, it was approaching noon and he would be hungry for lunch soon. He could probably make it back to his apartment just in time if he kept a brisk pace.

It was just as he was leaving the park that he realized his phone was still on silent from having been in church, and that if Alfred tried to call him, he wouldn't notice. That sent him digging through his pockets for the device until he found it, and he was relieved to see that he had no missed calls. He did, however, have an unread message from none other than the handsome American he was so infatuated with.

Infatuated. That is definitely the right word.

A smile he couldn't hold back appeared on his face as Arthur opened the message.

Can I call you?

Of course.

Only about a minute after the message sent, Arthur felt his phone begin to buzz in his pocket and quickly retrieved it, flipping it open.

"Hello?" he answered, sounding breathless in spite of himself.

"Hey, Artie. What're you up to?"

"Going for a walk." Arthur tucked his free hand into his pocket and slowed his pace to a leisurely stroll—lunch could wait if it meant his conversation with Alfred would last a little longer. "Yourself?"

"Uh, just looking to see if we have any food in this hotel room. I'm starving."

Chuckling, Arthur pictured the tall American dressed in blue jeans and a loose white undershirt, a phone held to his ear as he opened and closed cabinets and leaned over to peer into a fridge in search of something to eat. "You could always go out for lunch."

"Naw, I'm too lazy for that. Besides, I look like crap since I just woke up. No one wants to see me looking like this."

"I find that hard to believe."

"What, that I'm lazy? Trust me, Arthur, I'm one lazy guy."

"Not that," Arthur laughed, "the part about you looking like crap." If he was completely honest, the image of Alfred looking for food in baggy pajama pants with his hair extra messy and sleepy blue eyes was even better than one in jeans.

"Oh." There was a pause and the Brit liked to think he'd made the other man blush. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Even just over the phone, it was fun to talk to Alfred. The American was so blatant and honest about what he was doing and who he was that it was refreshing. Arthur was used to people who kept up a face of always being put together, of never letting things go or taking a day off. He himself used to do that, though now that he had a secure position in the bank, he'd relaxed somewhat. Knowing that Alfred was being completely honest when he said that he'd just woken up and was too lazy to go out for lunch made Arthur chuckle and shake his head. Somehow, the man who had flattered him flawlessly in the pub then swept him off his feet during their date was also a man who had no problem with eating lunch in his pajamas.

"Did you really just wake up, Alfred?" he asked, smile still in place.

An embarrassed laugh sounded through the phone. "Yeah. Jet lag is killing me. It's only, like, seven in the morning back home, so this is breakfast for me."

Of course. Arthur had completely forgotten about the difference in time zones between the UK and the US. "Then I'm surprised you're up, if you're as lazy as you claim to be."

"Normally, I'd sleep in way later than this, but Feliks started playing some insanely loud music to force me to get up. I think he's got a full day planned for the three of us, and if I'm going to be here all summer then I should get used to the time zone as fast as I can."

Voices sounded in the background of the call and Arthur tilted his head, listening curiously. "Is that Feliks?"

Muffled words were the only response for a moment. "Yeah. He wanted to know who I was talking to—"

"Hi, Arthur!" a new voice shouted, drowning Alfred out for a moment.

"Feliks! Shut up!" The American growled as someone, probably Feliks, giggled in the background. "Knock it off, you annoying little-!" A pause, then a sigh. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I'm starving. Can't you tell?"

One thick, blond eyebrow lifted out of amusement, Arthur almost paused on the sidewalk to listen to the conversation taking place on Alfred's side of the phone call. It was interesting to hear him talk to people he was comfortable around. Clearly, they had a close friendship because it sounded like Feliks was making fun of him for something.

"Hey, Artie?"

"Yes?" His pace returned to normal though he was still smiling.

"Feliks just said he'll make breakfast if I help, so I'm gonna let you go, kay? I can call again later, if you want."

"I would like that, Alfred," the Brit responded, glad that he was important enough to receive more than one phone call from the American. "Before you go, though, I have a question." Now was his chance.

"Ask away."

"Well, there's a faculty party on Thursday that I have to attend. It's supposed to encourage friendly relations between different sectors and branches of the bank. I'm sure it's going to be boring beyond belief, but I'm allowed to bring a Plus One, if you're at all interested." He paused, biting his lip as he waited for Alfred's answer. "You don't have to come," he added when there was no immediate response. "I just know I'll enjoy it more if you're there, and maybe it could be our second date?" A hopeful tone slipped into the ending and Arthur prayed silently that he didn't sound desperate or pathetic.

"That sounds great. Of course I'll go. Thursday night?"

"Yes, the party starts at eight pm." His apartment was in sight and Arthur slowed his steps even further to keep from getting there before their conversation was over.

"Then I'll pick you up at 7:30 and you can tell me where to go. Sound good?"

"Oh, on your motorcycle?" Arthur asked hesitantly, remembering how terrifying it had been the first time.

"You sound nervous, Artie," the American teased, and Arthur felt his face heat up slightly.

"I'm not nervous! The party is a semi-formal event and I don't know how my boss would react to me arriving on the back of a motorcycle with my arms around some handsome foreigner!"

"He'll be jealous as hell, of course."

"That's not the point, you git!" the golden blond all but shouted, then glanced around to make sure he hadn't caught anyone's attention by being too loud. He made sure to lower his voice. "If my boss thinks I'm doing anything that could reflect poorly on the company, I could get demoted or fired!"

"If you think I'll get you fired, then why are you inviting me?"

"Because I like you, idiot, and I know I would enjoy your company. Just promise me you won't do anything too…American."

"Excuse me?" Alfred was clearly offended.

Hell. That was the wrong thing to say. "No, I—I didn't mean it like that! I'm sorry!" The Brit rushed to get the words out, hoping he hadn't done irreparable damage to his relationship with the taller blond.

"Are ya sayin' there's somethin' wrong with Americans, Artie?"

Immediately, Arthur felt his face turn red and he stopped walking altogether for a moment before quickly moving towards his front door. There was no way he was continuing this conversation in public if Alfred was going to start using that damned southern accent. He already had his keys out when he got up the stairs to his front door.

"Don't do that!" he hissed once the door was safely shut behind him and he'd leaned back against it. "I was outside!" It only made it worse that his reaction made Alfred chuckle.

"Yer point? I kin do anythin' I want, darlin'. Or were ya plannin' on doin' somethin' ta make me stop?"

Bloody hell! The bastard knew what he was doing! "Stop it!"

"What fer? I like this'n, ya know."

So do I. That's the problem. Rather than admit it, though, Arthur took a deep breath and slowly released it as a sigh. "I can see that. So, Thursday?"

"I'll be there."

At least he'd dropped the accent so Arthur managed to stand up straight again. "7:30, and don't you dare be late, Alfred."

"Whatever you say, Boss."

The nerve of him! Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut as he held back the countless responses he wanted to snap at the American who insisted on teasing him. "I'll see you then. Enjoy your lunch."

"See ya, Artie."

"Goodbye, Alfred." He hung up and let out another sigh, relieved. At least he'd managed to get inside before he did something he'd rather not do in public. That bloody accent did things to him that Arthur would rather not think about and would certainly never admit. It just wasn't fair—his accent didn't seem to have any effect on Alfred whatsoever. But the moment the American dropped into that drawl…Arthur shook himself as the mere memory of it sent goosebumps up his arms.

And the git knows.

Well, there was nothing he could do about that, so Arthur decided not to worry about it, at least not for now. For now, he would enjoy the fact that Alfred had agreed to go the faculty party with him on Thursday, and that he could walk into work with his head held high tomorrow. His colleagues would likely try to tease him about his boring weekend—as they did every Monday—but this time he was going to have a story to share. Not that he planned on giving them very many details. The bastards could wait until Thursday to find out who the "handsome stranger" he'd just so happened to meet on Friday night was.

It was going to be fun to shock them all.

X

The moment he hit the End Call option on his phone, Alfred felt hands gripping his shirt and was roughly yanked forward as lips crashed against his own. Without even thinking about it, he dropped the phone and ran his hands down the other person's sides until they found the curve of bare hips, which he gripped tightly as his eyes fell shut.

Hungry.

Yes, he was hungry. He was starving. His meal the other night hadn't lasted as long as he'd expected and he'd woken up with the familiar craving banging around in his skull. And being kissed was like opening a floodgate to let that hunger overtake him completely. It was amazing that he'd managed to stay calm while talking to Arthur for so long while being this hungry.

Fingers tightening on those hips, Alfred tilted his head and opened his mouth, his tongue sliding out to taste and explore soft lips before delving between them into the hot mouth beyond. The action drove a moan from his makeout partner and the incubus couldn't help but smirk a little; one of his hands slid around to cup a handful of ass and he squeezed while bringing their hips together.

"Alfred!" his name was gasped as the other pulled away from the kiss, and Alfred opened his eyes, grinning.

"What?" he asked, not at all surprised to see that Feliks was the one who had started kissing him so suddenly; Toris rarely instigated these things.

"You're, like, totally gonna leave bruises!" the green-eyed nymph accused, pouting slightly; Alfred chuckled and licked the smaller male's nose.

"So? You've never complained about them before." The hand he still had on Feliks' rear squeezed gently so that he jumped.

"H-hey!"

Alfred rolled his eyes. "I'm starving, okay? That chick didn't last long." His voice lowered into a soft whine and he started kissing the side of Feliks' neck, knowing it would butter the smaller man up. "I'm hungry, Fe."

A sigh escaped the nymph and he draped his arms around Alfred's neck, head tilting to expose more skin to the tall blond. "I know, Al. Toris—"

The brunet looked up from his spot on the couch, expression curious, a book in his hands. "Yes?"

Feliks smiled at his mate, one hand running through Alfred's hair as the incubus continued to kiss and lick and nibble on his neck. "Feeding time," he crooned, and Toris smiled a little as he stood up.

"Okay." There was no hesitation in his movements as he set his book aside and began to unbutton the shirt he had chosen to wear that day. "Come on, Alfred."

"Pick me up," Feliks whispered into the American's ear, and Alfred wasted no time in doing just that, his hands firmly gripping Feliks' thighs as he lifted him off his feet and began carrying him towards his bedroom. Immediately, the nymph wrapped his legs around Alfred's waist and pulled him into a second kiss, though this one remained soft as he patiently lapped at the taller man's mouth. Toris followed them, closing the door once the three men were inside Alfred's bedroom.

"Light off, or on?" he asked, tilting his head curiously.

"Off," came Alfred's reply, and the brunet nodded before moving towards the bed. "I want to do this as our real selves."

"You really are starving," Toris commented, though he was smiling as he said it, and didn't wait to see Alfred's nod. "Liks."

His attention caught by the nickname, Feliks unwrapped his legs from Alfred's waist and, with the American's help, lowered himself to stand on his own two feet. "I'm, like, ready." Both males looked at their taller companion, knowing that when he was this hungry, he preferred to be in charge so that he could get his fill. It was best not to tease a hungry incubus.

Grinning again, Alfred quickly stripped off the old T-shirt he'd been wearing, then dropped his pajama pants and boxer briefs. Two pairs of eyes raked over him and his nose flared when the scent of Feliks and Toris' arousal reached him; it only made the urge to feed that much stronger. Suddenly, Alfred's shoulders hunched and he held his arms close to his chest, hands clenched into fists as he ground his teeth together, doubling over. A groan was ripped from him and he shuddered before going still. Several moments passed before he began to relax and stood straight again, blue eyes glowing eerily in the dark bedroom. His smile was firmly in place, though a little strained and not quite the same as before. Feliks smirked.

"You, like, remember how to use those?" he asked, pointing at the incubus' mouth to indicate the fangs that had sprouted from his top jaw.

"Just as much as I remember how to use this," Alfred purred in response, turning slightly so the two could see the slender black tail that now grew from the base of his spine as it curled and twisted as if it had a mind of its own. They could also see a pair of feathery black wings neatly folded over his shoulder blades, and the American reached up to feel one of the small, curling horns that stuck out of the side of his head above his ears with a hand that now bore small black claws rather than fingernails. "Forgot about these, though."

"It's been a while since any of us dropped our human forms," Toris commented softly, holding his shirt in front of himself as a sort of shield.

"Yeah, well, it hurts like hell to change for me," the incubus responded, not sounding particularly bothered by the fact that it was painful for him to reveal his true form. It wasn't something he enjoyed doing, but sometimes it was necessary if he wanted as large of a feeding as he needed. "Your turn, Liks."

Smiling playfully, the nymph shimmied out of his skinny jeans and the pink thong he wore before removing his rather loose Union Jack patterned crop top. He stood there, completely naked and smiling, and for a few moments it didn't appear that anything was happening. Then, slowly, the short blond began to glow. His skin turned a pale, shimmering gold and he giggled quietly, lips parting to reveal sharp, pointed teeth. A turn of his head revealed that his ears had elongated and lost their roundness, now closely resembling a typical "elf ear." Angular green eyes focused on Toris as Feliks and Alfred waited expectantly.

Obviously much shyer than the first two males had been, Toris dropped his shirt to the floor and took a deep breath. A look of intense concentration crossed his face, and Alfred and Feliks watched as his ears took on a pointed shape, though they weren't as long as Feliks'. His skin also began to glow, but with a pale blue tint rather than gold. His fingers and toes stretched just slightly until they were longer than was normal for a human. Lastly, a quiet fluttering sound was heard and then a pair of nearly transparent wings similar to those of a butterfly appeared behind the brunet as he lifted them and flapped a few times to test their strength. They reflected the glow from his skin and Feliks' shimmer, betraying their iridescent qualities.

"Always so pretty," Feliks sighed, gaze locked on Toris' wings; the faerie blushed at the attention.

"Thank you."

A growl sounded; nymph and faerie turned to find Alfred impatiently chewing on his lip.

"Can we hurry up?" he asked gruffly, trying not to sound too angry or irritated. "I'm about to go nuts over here."

Smiling, Toris and Feliks simultaneously reached out, each taking hold of one of Alfred's hands, and pulled him forward until all three males were sitting on the bed. Toris looked at Alfred curiously.

"Lube?" he asked, and the incubus pointed towards his bags.

"I didn't unpack it yet."

Without a word, Toris got up and fetched the bottle from where it had been packed with Alfred's belongings then returned to the bed and sat once more, popping the cap open. "Who's first?"

"He's capable of fucking us at, like, the same time," Feliks pointed out, green eyes full of mischief as he trailed a teasing finger down Alfred's chest. The taller blond growled again and roughly pulled him into yet another kiss, this one forceful and demanding as he deepened it without waiting for permission. Feliks moaned, submitting to the much stronger male and allowing Alfred to push him onto his back.

"You first," Alfred panted after breaking the kiss; he glanced at Toris. "Nymph for dinner. Faerie for desert." Today's meal would be very satisfying.