AN: Thank you to everyone who reviewed. USUK won but there was a lot of UKUS votes so that may happen later in the story. Donuts to all—and I don't want to brag but they're full of jelly.

Some NSFW in the chapter. Blowjobs and facials. Just FYI.

Chapter Ten: There's a Fine, Fine Line

"It's not whether you really cry. It's whether the audience thinks you are crying."

–Ingrid Bergman

"What was that all about?" Alfred curiously cocked his head.

"Nothing Jones."

"Don't you 'nothing Jones' me Artie," Alfred pushed himself in front of his boyfriend. "You and Nat are friends. Why is she mad at you?"

"She," Arthur began, looking up into his boyfriend's beautiful blue eyes. "She asked me to the Homecoming Dance. As her date."

Gilbert guffawed and even Matthew snickered quietly into his sleeve. "What the hell was she thinking?" Gilbert laughed. "Doesn't she know you're queer?"

"Yes," Arthur said in exasperation. "She knows I'm gay, she just thought that since no one had asked her that we could go as friends."

"But, she had to know that you're going with me," Alfred said. "Right Artie?"

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. "Actually Alfred," he began. "I agreed to go with another person before you and I started dating."

"What? Who?" Alfred questioned.

"Anya Braginski."

There was a deafening silence. "Who exactly are you going to the dance with?" Alfred's voice was low.

"Anya," came a whisper.

"You're taking that commie bitch to Homecoming!" Alfred cried.

"Look Alfred, I promised her," Arthur tried to reason. "It was before us and I owe her…apparently."

"I can't believe that you'd do something like this Arthur," Alfred sounded broken. But underneath the break was something dark and dangerous. Something that Arthur didn't like, even though he found himself incredibly turned on by an angry Alfred.

"It was before," Arthur protested again. "Look, I'm sorry, but what do you want me to do? Go back on my word?"

"Yes!" shouted Alfred. "That's exactly what I want you to do."

"I can't," Arthur insisted. "It wouldn't be very gentlemanly to do so."

"You always pull the gentleman card," Alfred spat. "Like you're better than all of us. When really, you're just a coward."

Arthur sputtered. "What! How dare you! I made a date and you're just going to have to find a way to deal with that Jones!"

"Back to Jones then are we?" Alfred's voice was venomous. "Fine then, I'll find a way to deal with it."

Turning on his heel, Alfred stalked away leaving Arthur standing at his locker blinking back tears. How had everything become so messed up so quickly.

"Well, that was entertaining," Gilbert drawled.

In the few classes they shared, Alfred pointedly ignored Arthur, which caused the English boy to lash out in a few verbal insults and tirades. By the end of the day, both boys were frustrated, cranky and downright miserable. Neither one would admit he was wrong and neither would come crawling back despite the fact that they both yearned to do so. Surprisingly, Matthew was not the one to attempt a reconciliation. It was Gilbert.

"We have to get your brother back together with Pretty Pretty Princess." The albino boy cornered Matthew that afternoon. "This whole day with Al has been a real downer."

"I don't know what we can do." Matthew was at a loss. "They were so angry this morning."

"Well they need to grow the fuck up," Gilbert stated.

Matthew gaped.

"I'm sorry, but they do," Gilbert continued at Matthew's silence. "All this high school nonsense and drama, I expect that kind of bullshit from Kirkland but Al—he knows better. He's always had a clear head and I don't understand why he can't just suck it up and tell the grumpy English bitch that he's madly in love and doesn't want to share. It isn't that hard."

"That's," Matthew said, "A lot more mature than I would expect from you Gil."

"I'm not all blowjobs and flash, honey bear," Gilbert purred.

"Changing the subject," Matthew admonished.

"Right," the albino boy pointed a finger. "So how are we going to swing this? Those two have to get back together or I'm going to go insane. Do you know that Al missed every free throw in practice today? Every. Single. One."

"And I heard Arthur answer three questions wrong in English Lit this afternoon," Matthew conceded. "Something has to change."

"And it's up to us Birdie!" Gilbert crowed. "We will be Matchmakers Extraordinaire!"

"How do you propose we go about this?" Matthew smiled, finally getting on board with his boyfriend's scheming.

"Very sneaky-like, mien liebling," Gilbert smirked. "Very sneaky."

"As long as it doesn't involve Nair this time, my love," Matthew giggled. "I'm in. Let's save my brother and Arthur from a fate worse than death."

"Spinsterdom."

"Yes."

The boys held hands as they walked down the hall together, unaware that they were being observed.

Natalia poked her head out from around the corner and watched Gilbert and Matthew retreat down the hallway. She smirked evilly. Arthur was her friend to be sure, but if he was in hot water for dating her sister then so be it. The pompous little actor deserved it. He should have never agreed to take Anya to the damn Homecoming dance in the first place!

Natalia wasn't so hurt by the English boy's rejection, she was just livid that it had been at the hands of her sister. Unfortunately for Arthur, Natalia had a deep sense of familial ties and therefore couldn't take out her aggression on her hated sister.

'Nair,' Natalia had heard Matthew say. Now that was a fine coincidence. She knew exactly how she was going to use that idea. She just needed to have time and the opportune moment.

Rehearsals were going steadily and Antonio was beyond pleased with how Alfred and Arthur's relationship was displaying onstage. He was also secretly pleased as to how it was blossoming offstage as well, but a drama teacher never interferes…much. So he didn't say anything that would completely humiliate the boys. Maybe just some light teasing. Which, that afternoon, was not received well at all. Antonio was confused, but he shook it off.

The boys, meanwhile, could not.

They had pointedly ignored one another for the entire day and neither one was planning on stopping now that they were at rehearsal.

"Come on you two! You have to say your lines AT each other, not toward the audience," Antonio admonished for the tenth time that night. "You need to be speaking to each other."

"Fine," Arthur spat venomously.

Alfred remained silent, but he turned his body slightly more toward the other boy. "Okay, Mr. C," the American attempted.

"I don't understand," Mr. Carriedo came up on the stage and pulled Alfred and Arthur together. "Our plan was working so well, you two actually seemed like…friends."

"Women," Alfred groaned. "Women got in the way."

"Oh shut it you insufferable prat," Arthur snapped. "You're just being a big baby about all of this."

"I'm being a baby! You're the one who can't stand up and say who you really want to go to the dance with!" Alfred countered.

"Well I'm not a—" Arthur was cut off.

"Boys, boys, boys," Antonio clapped a hand on both of their shoulders. "I love the enthusiasm, I just wish there was some love behind it. Let's try it again and this time, act like you're fucking friends."

"Language," Arthur corrected their teacher.

"I'm allowed to swear. I'm a grown up."

Arthur stuck his tongue out behind Antonio's back as the drama instructor turned away. Alfred giggled at the display. It was the first time all day that either boy had acknowledged that they were friendly.

"Once again from the top!" Antonio called. "Just one more!"

It was going to be a long night.

The next few days passed in a similar fashion with the boys attempting to ignore one another. Although, they weren't very good at it. In their few shared classes, they couldn't stop sneaking glances and when they were alone both boys were consumed with thoughts of the other. The entire fight was becoming distracting and interfering in their day to day lives. It was unbearable.

Arthur finally resigned himself to apologizing. He wasn't going to back down and refuse Anya, but he was damn sure going to try to apologize to Alfred in the meantime. Perhaps a well-timed blowjob was the answer. Although, he would have to find a way to get Alfred into a position where he could actually deliver on the 'apology head' that he had in mind. That was the tricky part.

Deciding to wait until after that night's rehearsal, Arthur was determined to find a way to get Alfred alone so they could hash this out. And if he got a taste of his boyfriend's dick in the process—Arthur was sure that both of them would be fine with that outcome. Rehearsal dragged on for the English boy, especially since he wasn't needed very often. He spent most of the time sitting with Elizabeta and trying to read a book for his English Lit class, but his mind kept wandering. And his eyes kept wandering to Alfred who was usually center stage and looking amazing.

Finally, Mr. Carriedo called for an end to rehearsals and Arthur watched as Alfred gathered up his bags and headed for the doors. Following slightly behind, Arthur watched as his boyfriend made his way for the gym's locker rooms. Wondering what Alfred was up to, Arthur kept himself at a distance as Alfred entered the boy's locker room, the door swinging shut behind his delectable ass. Waiting a few moments in the deserted hallway, Arthur worked up the courage to follow and crept up to the locker room door. Once inside, he heard the running water of the showers and gulped. It was now or never. He and Jones had to hash this out once and for all, and if Jones was naked—all the better for Arthur.

Entering the shower area, Arthur could see Alfred's shape outlined in the steam, his boyfriend furiously scrubbing his hair and sighing. "Alfred," he spoke hesitantly.

Spinning around, one hand covering his genitals, Alfred's eyes bugged out at the sight of his boyfriend standing in the locker room watching him. "What the fuck are you doing here Artie?"

"I wanted to talk to you," came the response.

"Well," Alfred mumbled. "I'm a little busy right now." He shifted awkwardly on the balls of his feet.

"Yes, I can see that," Arthur drolled. "Harder for you to run away now isn't it?"

"I'm naked Arthur." Alfred's face tinged red.

"As I am well aware," the English boy smirked. "Perhaps this would help with the tension?" He began to pull off his own clothes, somewhat self-consciously, but less embarrassed than Alfred.

"What are you doing?" Alfred squeaked.

"Joining you in your nudity." Once Arthur was down to his boxer briefs, he slid his hands into the band, and locked eyes with Alfred. "Nervous lad?"

Alfred gulped. They were about to be naked together for the first time. In a semi-public place, of course he was nervous! He was freaking terrified. "Not at all," he managed, his voice only slightly hitching.

Arthur shed his underwear in one smooth movement and immediately stepped into the spray of the group shower. Alfred gulped. His eyes glued to what Arthur had to offer. His boyfriend was packing a lot more than he would have guessed. Alfred immediately began to harden at the thought of a naked Arthur Kirkland in the same shower as him. He subtley pinched his arm to make sure this wasn't some sort of dream. It wasn't.

Moving closer, Arthur was now standing under the same spray as Alfred, his eyes peeking up at the taller boy through thick black lashes. Alfred shuddered and let out a breath. His throat was dry and he kept trying to swallow but it was too difficult when he was concentrating on the lithe, naked body in front of him.

"So, is this more comfortable for you?" Arthur asked shyly.

"Not at all." Alfred responded truthfully.

"Good," Arthur smirked. "Now then, I wanted to apologize for the other day."

"Um," Alfred stammered. "What?"

"The whole Anya situation." Arthur ran his hand through his own hair, looking away. "It was insensitive of me to not consider your feelings. She asked me before we were together but I see now that I should have spoken to her earlier when the two of us became exclusive."

"Um, yeah," Alfred gulped, still staring at Arthur's naked body.

"I apologize for not doing as such," Arthur didn't seem to notice the scrutiny that his body was under. Being an actor had some perks—you were never really self-conscious no matter the state of undress. "Is there some way I can make it up to you?"

"Uh," Alfred blinked. "I, uh, don't, um, know."

"Well, do you forgive me?" Arthur asked, finally meeting Alfred's blue eyes.

"Of course!" Alfred would forgive anything that a naked Arthur asked. What did he have to forgive anyway? Nothing probably. There was no way that naked Arthur had done anything to upset him. Alfred was sure of that.

"Good," Arthur leaned in, his hand grazing Alfred's chest as he pressed his lips against his boyfriend's parted mouth.

"Oh my god," Alfred murmured as they broke apart. "Holy shit, Artie."

Arthur smiled through half-lidded eyes. He reached down and lightly fingered Alfred's hardened cock. "Now that you've forgiven me, what are we going to do about this?"

Alfred wasn't sure if he was still breathing. The hot water of the shower pounded on his back and he watched with an open mouth as Arthur sank to his knees on the tile. Arthur's face was level with Alfred's groin and Alfred's breaths were coming in small gasps. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!"

Grinning, Arthur leaned in, his hands on Alfred's hips, and licked the tip of Alfred's member. Alfred's penis quivered in response and Arthur smiled fully. Nuzzling his face against Alfred's crotch, Arthur continued to bestow small licks and kisses to his boyfriend. Alfred wound his hands into Arthur's hair, panting. This was the most amazing thing to ever happen to him. It was like a porno fantasy come to life. His boyfriend was on his knees, sucking on his dick in the shower!

Arthur took the length of Alfred in his mouth and moaned as he tasted the salty skin of his boyfriend. He had waited so long for this. Alfred F. Jones was finally in his mouth! It was a dream come true for the English boy. He sucked and licked and ran his tongue around the shaft in an effort to make his boyfriend come.

It wasn't long before Alfred was gasping and yanking on Arthur's hair, saying, "I'm close babe!" The stimulation was too much for the American. He had never been touched by another person before and the visual and feeling was unbearable.

Arthur pulled back and kept his mouth open as Alfred jerked himself to a finish, coming all over the British boy's face and tongue. Standing up, Arthur placed his face under the hot stream of water as Alfred tried to catch his breath. "That," the American panted. "Was the best apology ever!"

"I'm glad you approve," Arthur padded over to his bookbag and extracted his gym shampoo from the front pocket. "Now I have to get you out of my hair."

"Sorry babe," Alfred looked a little guilty.

Putting a dollop of shampoo in his hand, Arthur began to lather his head, including his face, to try and get the remnants of come off of his skin. After a few moments, Alfred finally caught his breath enough to admire his boyfriend's lean body as he washed up. Suddenly, there was a plop as something his the tile floor of the shower.

"Artie, babe," Alfred stared at the clump of hair near the drain.

"What is it?" Arthur asked, his eyes closed as he massaged his scalp.

Another plop and another chunk of hair fell.

"Babe!" Alfred yelled, "You're hair!"

Arthur opened his eyes and saw that his hands were covered in hair, and the water was running chunks of it toward the drain! "My hair!" the English boy cried.

Alfred pointed, a look of wordless horror on his face. "Your eyebrows!"