A/N: Sorry for the late chapter. ;3; Not only did my laziness and procrastination play a role in the delay, I also had exams...

I swear though, this was the hardest chapter to start. I had like no motivation e_e; I almost quit twice.

Anyhoo, this chapter has a semi-introduction of a new character and something from Alfred's childhood ^^

Please review ;w;

Dedicated: sasorilover7


Chapter Eleven

"Want it back, piggy? Oink for it, piggy! Oink, oink! C'mon!"

A childish trill of laughter spilled out from the kid's lips, Alfred's backpack being raised higher in the air with every word. "Oink! C'mon! Oink!"

The blonde's lower lip trembled, his pudgy arms shooting up for his bag anxiously. "Give me it! Please! It has my books in it!"

The redhead boy harassing him smiled wickedly, his lips curling upward and his freckled nose scrunching up with the action. "Y'gotta oink, pig. I told you!" he repeated, loving all this control he had over the fatso.

The chubby boy's blue eyes began to water, tears welling in the corners of his eyes, threatening to drip down any second. He jumped once again before letting out a small sniffle, a small noise uttering from his lips.

"Heh? What was that, fatty? I didn't hear you!"

The blonde glared up at him defiantly, hot tears rolling down his cheeks, and let out the noise again, louder for him. "Oink!"

"That's a good little pig. Here!" the kid snorted happily, sounding more like an animal himself, the bag dropping on the floor with a thud, papers spilling out all around them.

"There kid. Remember you're nothing but a piggy! You're not going to be an astronaut! Where do you even get off saying something like that in class?" He snickered, kicking some of the papers into the air childishly.

Alfred awoke, arms wrapped around something. Something warm. He nuzzled into it, wiping his seemingly fresh tears against it to try to dry his eyes. A soft content noise worked up from his throat and rubbed his cheek against it.

"Alfred? What are you doing?" something asked him, causing him to blink and look up at just what he was snuggling against.

F-Fuck…the dream had made him just about forget where he was!

"E-Er…sorry." He mumbled nervously to the Brit he'd been somewhat-sleeping with, dropping his arms instantly and shying back over to his side of the bed. "I was still kinda sleepy, dude."

Please do not ask why I was crying, he begs inwardly, dabbing more at his eyes and burying his face in his pillow.

And he didn't.

"Do you bloody hear that?" Arthur whispered, tilting his head slightly as if straining his ears for a noise coming from just outside the door.

Alfred coughed a bit, sitting upright and shaking his head, though as absorbed as Arthur was in listening, he probably didn't even notice. "No."

"Listen closer." Arthur suggested, suddenly looking as if he was tuning into something, like he was a fucking military radio or something, listening in on enemy game plans. "Do you hear that? That's a bloody blender going! A blender! What the hell are those two idiots doing with my blender!" he paused, as if wondering just what they could possibly doing with his blender. Suddenly, his nose twitched. "A-And that, too! Do you smell that?! That's bacon! What are they doing cooking bacon! I don't even own bacon!"He rambled angrily, already slipping out of bed—or rather falling out, really—and shrugging on a pair of slippers. Angrily shrugging on, Alfred might put.

"Maybe they're hungry?" Alfred suggested groggily, wiping his eyes once more with his sleeve, kicking his legs up over the bed.

"They can bloody starve for all I care!" Arthur snapped, already stomping down the hall, Alfred quickly deciding to trail behind him.


They had, as it turned out, been making bacon. Not like that in itself was all that important to Arthur, but the fact that they were screwing around with his cooking equipment and rummaging through his fridge like wild hooligans did in fact bother him a lot. They looked like monkeys. More so than usual.

"What the hell are you two doing?!" he snarled, placing a hand on either side of his hip in a lame attempt at showing authority.

Scottie let out a small snort, looking back at him from his position by the blender, plopping one more egg into the machine with a smirk. "Oh, you're up?" he asked innocently.

"Answer me, damn it!"

He didn't look phased, reaching out with a stretch of his arm to snatch a piece of bacon from Erin and toss it into his strange blender concoction. "This here's for you, love." He answered sweetly.

"And what the hell is that?"

"This?" he asked, finger hovering over the "start" button, throwing his brother a grin. "Me and Erin' be figurin' you could use a little protein. A good fuck always wears you out a bit, huh? Doin' it all night musta' killed ye, eh?" Scottie continued with a smirk, eyes trailing over to Alfred behind him. "Oi," he called out softly, feigning concern, "ye butt hurt too bad?"

Erin could've sworn he'd never in his life seen his brother blush that bad. He looked as if someone had dumped a vat of dark red paint on him. The sight of it made him snicker uncontrollably from the sidelines.

"I-I-I…" Arthur began, all the confidence he'd managed to muster up walking into the room gone by now. He swallowed hard twice, struggling to get anything out of his mouth without stuttering horribly.

Scottie only continued to smirk. "Yes?"

"W-What are you even going on about you twat?!" he managed finally, the color not once leaving his cheeks.

"Mm? Don't play dumb, Artie." Erin joined in finally, lips curling into a Cheshire cat smile. "We all heard ye fucking yer little sweetheart over there all night. No need to hide it, lad."

"F-Fucking—?!" he demanded, unable to even process the very idea.

The two older brothers exchanged a small knowing look between each other before grinning widely back at him. "Tsk tsk. Whatever then. Ye're still drinking this up."

The older of the two brothers jabbed a finger back over at the blender, a strange, yellowish orange mixture staring back at them all, bits of yolk and bacon floating around in it still.

There was no way in hell he was ever going to drink that. His brothers had to be fucking kidding themselves if they thought for even a second that Arthur was going to willingly just chug that all down.

Well that was something. Willingly.

Arthur could only pray they didn't strap him down to some chair and force him to drink it. Heh, that'd be a bit like old times now, wouldn't it? They'd strapped him down plenty of times before. Like when they were giving him noogies, swirlies, forcing him to eat dirt…

He twitched just slightly, hoping with all that he had that "forcing him to drink a bacon-egg smoothie" wasn't something he'd have to add onto his list.

A cough came from behind him, causing him to remember that there even was a person behind him. He looked over back at Alfred, who was eyeing the drink hungrily, eyes wide. "If Artie doesn't want it, can I have some?" he asked, just about drooling at the sight of it.

Once again, the two brothers exchanged looks, though this time as if they hadn't really been expecting that. It was Erin who finally spoke up. "Er…sure. I suppose ye need it too after last night." He chuckled awkwardly to himself, soon narrowing his eyes at just how big of a portion Alfred was now getting himself, practically filling up an entire cup with the crap.

"Ye sure ye want all o' thut?" Scottie sputtered out.

Alfred nodded happily, closing his eyes and chugging some down.

"Alfred, dear," Arthur forced out, "I'm not sure you really want to drink all of that."

Alfred only gave him a small thumbs-up as if to tell him it was all good.

He couldn't understand Americans or their taste buds for the life of him.

And Arthur probably would've kept gawking at him too—I mean, really? He'd be surprised if Alfred wasn't throwing it all back up later—if not for the home phone beginning to ring.

And ring. And ring. And ring.

"Ye going to get that? Or should I?" Scottie snorted, already making a move for it.

Like hell was Arthur going to let Scottie even answer a telemarketer for fear of what could possibly come out of his stupid mouth.

He opted to reach for it himself. "Hello?" he asked into it, thankful that after a second those arses already looked bored with him and began focusing their attention on that American instead. He hadn't even looked at the caller id, but whoever it was, it must be something important for them to call at the ungodly hour of seven o' clock.

A short burst of laughter came from the other end. Though if you asked Arthur, it sounded more like a cackle than anything else…or perhaps like the man on the other end was coughing up a cat. "Kesesese! Hiya there, Artie. Guess who?"

Arthur all but facepalmed right then and there.

What on earth could his editor possibly want from him right now?


Enter Arthur's editor, Gilbert! o3o