(A/N): I'm sorry that last chapter was really short. Have some more fun daydreaming Alfred. I'm going to make a story of one-shots. If you want a certain plotline, pairing, genre, etc., please let me know. Chances are, (unless it's a ship that I terribly dislike), I'll do it.
"After we have tea, I'll show you to the rooms that you will be staying in. Is that okay?" He asked, sitting down and looking at us anxiously. "We'll," Ludwig paused to look at the rest of us, "all be staying in different rooms?" "Obviously," Arthur said, looking at him like he was an idiot, "I can't have all of you plotting against me. Now sit. I'll fetch the tea." He walked to the other side of the kitchen, bending over to look for tea in the bottom cabinet. I stopped listening to the conversation and started staring at his butt, instead.
"Alfred!" Ludwig said, jabbing me in the side with his elbow. "Ow! What was that for? Not cool, dude!" I practically shouted at him. "I asked your name about three times, lad," Arthur said, standing up and stretching upon having found the tea. "Oh, sorry. I'm Alfred!" I exclaimed, smiling at him. "Pleasure," he said, rolling his eyes. I looked away from his face, blushing, having suddenly realized that his accent sounded even sexier when he was annoyed with me. "Oh, crown prince, you do know that Alfred is barely a man," Francis said, "You truly shouldn't even bother with him." I saw Arthur's eye twitch, his grip on the teapot's handle tightening. "Or I could pour scalding hot water on both of you," he suggested, glaring at Francis. "Loosen up, mon ami!" Francis said, with a wink, "Unless, of course, you need some help with that." Francis got up to lightly pat Arthur on the back, his hand slowly moving lower. Arthur turned around and slapped his hand away, glaring. I would have to be smoother than Francis.
I stood up, pushing my chair in. "Arthur, would you like some help with the tea?" I asked. "No, but thank you for the offer," he said, attempting to sound polite, although I could hear annoyance seeping into his voice. He pulled out a teaspoon and added the loose tea to the pot. Letting it sit, he sat down next to me at the table. I noticed Feliciano stick his head out to make sure the coast was clear. I immediately went to brush Arthur's hair out of his face, to distract him. Not because I wanted to know how soft it would be… or anything like that. When I looked back, Arthur's face looked redder and Feliciano was nowhere to be seen. I silently wished them luck.
"U-Um," Arthur stammered, "do you guys want to know where you'll be staying?" "Of course, dude!" I said, even more enthusiastic than before. "Well, since I'm separating all of you, one of you will have to stay with me. I've decided that that one will be Alfred," he said, keeping a straight face, "I'll show the rest of you to your rooms when we're done." He placed a cup in front of me, pouring the tea. He bit his bottom lip, concentration in his face. His thick eyebrows crinkled on his face.
Arthur. He was 23, but he didn't look a day older than 18. I was 19 and I looked older than him. He was kinda short. He had a youthful face. He wasn't built muscularly like I was. His body had a little bit of chub, but looked on the slim side. He looked like jailbait. Luckily, however, he was 23. Not to say that I didn't like him before he turned 18, but I was also under 18, so it was fine. Also, he was hot as a teenager. Not that I would think about that now, of course.
"Alfred, mon ami!" Francis called, patting me on the back. "What?" I replied. "Arthur asked if you wanted sugar in your tea," Francis said. "Huh? Oh! Yeah. I'll take sugar," I stammered. "Don't screw this up. He might actually like you," Francis whispered, "Good luck with getting him to do anything about it." I grinned at the information. Francis thought that Arthur liked me. Francis was like the king of knowing about love and stuff. "Alfred," Arthur said, tapping my arm lightly, "I don't have an air mattress or anything for the floor, but I have a king-sized bed. Would that be fine?"
He stopped to roll his eyes as his little brother, Peter, sprinted through the room. "Seriously, Peter?" Arthur asked, annoyed. Peter's reply was a bloodcurdling scream from the other room.
