Alfred was sitting on the couch, a beer in his hand, and Matthew beside him. "Yeah," he said, "He wanted me to come to some work thing with him. I was like. Pffft. No."

Matthew chuckled. "Oh? Is that what you said?"

"Yeah. I was like: No!"

Matthew's chuckle quickly turned into yelling. "You idiot! He invited you to a thing for his job—the most important thing in the world to him, and you didn't go? Idiot!"

"Wha- Mattie?"

Matthew had grabbed a piece of paper out of a nearby notebook and was now furiously scribbling on the paper. "You go to the party thing. You make sure everyone loves you. Then, when you have them all eating out of the palm of your hand, you spring this on him."

Matthew held aloft a note that had a few words scribbled on it.

I _ hereby relinquish all of the money to Alfred F. Jones won in the Hetalia Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas.

X_

"I mean, it's not pretty." Matthew said, tearing off some of the excess paper on the edge. "But we could y'know...laminate it..."

Alfred clutched the paper in his hand.

Oh, shit.

Don'tmindmejustapagebreak

Arthur nervously picked at his tie. The fact that Alfred refused to come shouldn't have surprised him. But...it did. He thought—for some odd reason—they were getting along. Sure, they still fought, and they weren't exactly friendly but...

Oh, Arthur was screwed.

He was going to be fired. His boss had told him to bring his husband (after Elizabeta leaked that private information. How did she even know-?) Now he was completely and utterly screwed.

"-and she screams: holy crap! A talking muffin."

Arthur's head whipped towards the sound of the voice, which was quickly followed by laughter. There, across the many tables that were arranged on the fine patio, was Alfred, laughing with a group of people. Alfred was standing at the table dressed in a clean white shirt and dress pants. His hair was smoothed elegantly. Arthur hated to admit it...but he looked great. He walked over.

"Ah!" Alfred said when he saw him. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet my wonderful husband, Arthur."

The people at the table nodded and murmured various greetings. Arthur smiled hesitantly.

"Arthur, this is the founder of the company, Feliciano Vargas, then over there is the two Co-CEO's, Antonio and Romano, and then this is the Head of Treasury, Ludwig."

Arthur spluttered. Alfred had just waltzed right into the party and made himself at home with all the higher ups. Of course. Who wouldn't?

"Here, let's sit, Artie." Alfred said, pulling out a chair for the Englishman. Just when the two got comfortable, a voice came up behind Alfred.

"You're in my seat."

Arthur craned his neck around to see his boss, staring down at Alfred. The American had a blank expression on his face. "Alfred, this is my boss, Richard Banger."

Alfred laughed. "Dick Banger?" He said. "Your name is Dick Banger? You, sir, have provided us with jokes for the whole evening!"

The table was silent.

Then Richard laughed. "That's rich coming from the gay guy! Oh, don't worry about my seat, I'll just sit in Elizabeta's. Wooh! Arthur, you should have brought this guy over here sooner!"

Arthur chuckled nervously as the table eased back into it's comfortable setting. "Alfred," he whispered into his husband's ear, "I don't know what changed your mind. And I don't have to. But...thank you. You're a hero."

Secretly, Alfred felt like crying.

As the day went on, more and more people fell in love with Alfred and all his charms. Arthur couldn't help but be impressed. The boy was comfortable around everyone, voicing his opinions and making people laugh with the ease of a well-known comedian. Then, night fell. And the party really started.

Alfred stood in a expansive ballroom, feeling somewhat uncomfortable for the first time that whole day. He had forced a tie around his neck (though it hung loosely.) Soft music twinkle from somewhere on the right by the dance floor, though no one was dancing yet. Alfred was simply standing at the bar, talking to the tired looking bar-man who kept repeating "My name isn't Hercules. It's Heracles."

Alfred looked away from the man, and back to the party. Walking toward him was Arthur. For a moment, time slowed down.

Arthur wasn't dressed any differently than before. His hair was the same, messy blonde mop on his head. But suddenly his eyes were the only thing Alfred ever wanted to look at again. At that moment, Alfred realized how truly in love he was.

The note Matthew had given him weighed heavily in his pocket. "Hello, Al," Arthur said, nodding to the American.

Alfred nodded back and opened his mouth to say something, but a voice cut him off. "Hey! If it isn't Alfred Faggot Jones!"

Alfred turned to see Arthur's smiling boss. He smiled. "Hey there Dick."

The man stooped down to read Alfred's name tag. "Arthur's Bitch," he said out loud.

Arthur smirked and ripped the name tag off of Alfred's chest, and walked over to Elizabeta—who was standing not to far away. He patted her on the back, saying "Hey, Eliza. How are you? You should try the champagne. It's to die for."

When he returned to Alfred and Richard, the name tag was left on Eliza's back, proudly showing on her green dress.

"Oh, that was a good one!" Richard laughed. "You should have shown me this side of you earlier, Arthur! I would have promoted you ages ago."

Arthur smiled incredulously.

"Oh man, did you ever see what this guy can do with a knife and a bottle of champagne?"

At Richard's blank look, Alfred murmured how he "had to see this" and got the needed items from Heracles.

After futile protesting, Arthur held the knife to the bottle and POP! The champagne came bubbling out, which Alfred used to fill three cups. Richard was laughing.

Later on that night, after much jokes were told and food consumed, Richard got up on stage to make a speech. "Now, we have this trophy here for the most outstanding person in attendance. I think you all know who this trophy is going to."

The crowd giggled.

"That's right! Alfred, you fag, get up here!"

Alfred laughed, a bit shocked.

"Go!" Arthur told him, smiling, and prodding him forwards.

As much as Alfred hated to leave that smile behind, he did as he was told, and went up on stage.

Now is the time! A voice that sounded like a demonic Matthew screamed in Alfred's head. Make Artur sign it! Reel him in!

Alfred coughed in front of the microphone. He stared out into a crowd of now familiar faces, but he could only see one. Arthur, and he was smiling beautifully.

"Now, I wouldn't have gotten this trophy if it wasn't for Arthur," Alfred started. "He's amazing, really, he is. But...I know it sounds weird, but we didn't actually know each other too long before we go married."

Arthur's smiled crashed and burned. His eyes sparked into fear, he looked absolutely terrified and cornered. Finish him! The Matthew voice screamed.

"But...what can I say? When you know, you know." Alfred chuckled nervously, as Arthur's expression changed slowly. "But well, we were so busy running off to the honeymoon suite, we never really got the chance to have our first dance."

Arthur was now looking at Alfred with some sort of amused disbelief. Alfred smiled, and hopped off the stage, extending his hand. Arthur took it.

Someone on the stage said "L-ladies and Gentleman, for the first time, Alfred and Arthur Jones!"

Arthur didn't even mind that they used Alfred's last name.

Some sweet music echoed throughout the room. Alfred clutched Arthur in his arms and they began twirling, side-stepping and dipping in unison. Arthur was a fantastic dancer.

"You are bloody unbelievable," Arthur whispered.

"I know," Alfred whispered back.

Some people in the crowd had picked up their glasses and were now tapping their spoons and knives against them lightly, making a wonderful symptomless melody. "Do you hear that?" Arthur chuckled nervously. "They're tinking."

"Yeah," Alfred said breathlessly, "they are."

"That means they want us to kiss..."

Alfred didn't need any more reason. He tilted Arthur's chin up and captured his lips with his own. It was amazing. They had kissed in Vegas, but that had been a mindless, lustful kiss. This was something far opposite.

It was sweet, and balanced. Arthur leaned further on Alfred as they turned, and somewhere in the distance Arthur could have sworn he heard Elizabeta squeal.

COCKBLOCKHERE

It had to have been around two in the morning, but the blondes didn't care. They walked back to the room slowly, passing the small fountain in front of the hotel. "If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?" Alfred was saying. They had been playing the question game for a while now.

"I suppose...A lighthouse."

"A lighthouse?"

"Yes," Arthur sighed. "I used to sail a lot when I was younger. I loved working on the docks. But this one time, I was so stressed about work and bills and people, that I just had to get away. So I drove down to the nearest lighthouse and I just spent the whole day up there, watching the boats. I felt so free. It...took my mind off of everything."

"Is that the picture you have?" Alfred asked. "I think it's the one you hung by the bed. The little painting of the lighthouse."

Arthur smiled warmly. "Yes," he said. "That's the one."

Hello guys! I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while but I was traveling. To where you ask? Why, New Jersey of course! I'll be here all summer. Problem is, I work here. So I don't know if I'll be able to update so much. We only have a few more chapters left, anyways.

Thanks to everyone for all the support and comments! You've been amazing. I hope you liked this chapter!

Sorry for any mistakes! I'm American.

-Mallory