Arthur and Francis spent nearly ten hours of their night on the web, in search of an appropriate (but price friendly) venue. Firstly, they needed to find a place to hold the reception. Somewhere that wasn't monstrously grand, but big enough to fit the fifty family members and friends that were attending. Next, they needed a place to actually hold the wedding. Many of the receptionists at certain chapels that they were considering turned down their requests just for the fact that "it's too last minute".

"…Oh, fuck it." Arthur pouted, slamming his head on his keyboard, "…we'll never find one in time."

In the background, he could hear Francis laughing to himself, Arthur growing more and more irritated with each passing second.

"I am cooking something different for us tonight!" He exclaimed proudly, adding oil, spices, and other ingredients into the pot. Something was strange about the aroma though, Arthur thought.

He stood up, and began pacing vigorously back and forth. Upon his fifth or sixth lap, he curiously spotted something sticking out from the usually empty lunch pocket of Francis' bag. Glancing towards the kitchen, he made sure that Francis was completely distracted, immersed in his work, then, squatting down to slowly slip the sheet out, Arthur made sure that the crinkle of the paper would be reduced as much as he could.

Success! The sheet was folded into few sections, which, worked on Arthur's behalf to remain quiet. He then slowly opened the flaps, revealed to him, what appeared to be…

"…a grocery list?" Arthur blinked, and then took a closer look at the numbered items that it held.

Skimming through it rather quickly, his eyes took an immediate glance at something near the end of the page.

10. Must be A-

"WHAT THE SHIT?" Arthur yelled, blowing his "spy" cover while shoving the sheet back into the pocket. Francis craned his neck from the kitchen area with wide eyes, "…Oh."

"IS THAT ALL YOU CAN SAY? 'Oh.'?" Arthur stomped into the kitchen and practically glomped Francis, being mindful of the boiling water on the stove, he mumbled, "…you never told me about that."

"You never asked, Cher." He winked, turning back to the pot, stirring the contents inside clockwise so that the dish would fully cook, "Take a break for now. Tomorrow we will find locations. Calm down."

"…Fine." Arthur then looked around the room. Without anything else to do, he automatically became bored, "I'll check our attire again." He sighed, dragging himself to their walk-in closet and pulling out the two bags.

Checking the names on each, he found his bag and lifted it on to the bed. "It's a bit…heavier than last time…" He thought, but decided to shake it off as he quickly unzipped the bag.

Jet black, clean and crisp, his suit was perfect.

Perfect white shirt,

Perfect black top,

Perfect black bottom,

Perfect white ribbons with glitter.

"…Wait, WHAT?"

Carefully taking his suit out, and laying it on the bed, he felt his eye twitch as the contents of what was underneath.

"Francis?" He called out, in a forcefully sweet tone, "could you come here a minute?"

"Oui!" Francis called back, happily joining Arthur by the bed.

"…What the fuck is this?" Arthur held down his voice, although anger was quite legible.

"That!" Francis started, pulling the new outfit out of the bag, "Is a one in a kind, Paris made wedding dress."

"…"

"…"

Indeed it was, typically, long and flowing, pure white; it produced such an air of innocence when the light fabric moved through the air in the room, and shined like gems when it hit the light just right.

It took some time for Arthur to calculate the new information, trying to take deep breaths in order to reduce his confusion-tinted anger.

"…Am I to assume that I will be wearing this at our wedding?" Arthur spoke through gritted teeth, clenched fists at his sides.

"Non, This is not for the wedding!" Francis said in all seriousness, placing both the dress and the suit back into the bag, and zipping it closed.

Arthur felt relieved, "…Oh, so what is it for, the-"

"The honeymoon of course!" Francis jokingly stuck his tongue out, but Arthur wasn't amused.

"…you've been hanging out with Alfred way too much."

A moment of silence sat between them, until a crash was heard coming from their bathroom.

Arthur let his eye twitch, one more time, "…Speaking of Alfred…"

Gesturing towards a chair, he advised Francis to take a seat while he went to investigate the strange thumping noises.

He really wasn't expecting much, actually, he was hoping that his toilet was out of order again, making those annoying sounds.

Hand on the door knob, and a swift pull of the door revealed…

"…Oh, shit."

Normally, catching his two best friends being intimate together was enough to send him over the edge.

But, there they were, butt naked, in his shower, copulating.

Oh, but it didn't end there! Arthur shook in fury as Matthew looked away in embarrassment, Alfred still going at it.

"…YOU DRAGGED MY HOMEROOM DESK INTO MY SHOWER?"

Seven years ago were relatively "short" according to Arthur. He had no one else to hang around with, that is, except for his family friend, Matthew.

"...What is this?" Arthur bitterly spat out the golden yellow "tea", "…this is improper!" he shoved the mug in Matthew's direction.

Matthew however, thought otherwise, and downed the entire mug in a single gulp, "It's called maple tea. It reminds me of home."

Guilty. If there was one word Arthur felt right now, that was it. He knew how much Matthew missed his home country, and moving down to America with a scholarship was a miracle for his poor family.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something move. So when he stopped, Matthew stopped as well.

"…Arthur? Are you alright?" Matthew was concerned, and took some steps back to make sure his friend was okay.

"Yes, sorry. I just thought I saw something move." He shook his head, and continued walking along with Matthew.

The feeling of something watching them sent a cold gust of wind their way; Arthur beginning to feel insecure as he quickly looked back, this time, noticing something hide behind a telephone booth. He held Matthew back, fear just filtering through his system, "…There's someone following us. Behind that booth."

Matthew didn't look the least bit phased, and from what Arthur concluded, he wore a bored expression as he strut casually towards the booth, Arthur following behind him. Kicking the front part of the door, Matthew glared down at a small section of brown fabric on the opposite side of the booth, "…if you don't get your ass out from behind there, I swear I will push this thing over you."

A boy of about Matthew's age and height emerged from the side of the booth, nervously laughing to himself, "…H-hey guys!"

"How dare he." Arthur began, "…you don't even know us!" Matthew nodded in agreement, "…What the hell do you want?"

The boy smirked, and coyly replied at Matthew, "My name is Alfred, and I want you to go out with me."

"…I-I'm s-so-oh god, Al... S-s-orry!" Matthew cried out in a failed attempt, Arthur smacking his head with his hand, he shut the door abruptly and shouted, "CLEAN THE FUCK UP WHEN YOU'RE DONE."

Francis stared at Arthur, raising his eyebrow up in suspicion, "…C-cher…what was that?" He was more than afraid to ask, "Oh! and by the way, I found some venues we can look at next week."

Partly relieved, Arthur answered his first question,"...Just don't use the shower until we get it disinfected next week."

"Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy."

UPDATE: I think I added all scenes you all gave to me (Because they were ALL so good, I just had to put ALL of them in!)