Note #1 — I forgot to tag the first part as Rusame. I posted it, went on a trip, and realized my blunder. Fixed it now.
Note #2 — This chapter is nuts.
Big And Salty
Choking on Arthur's large nuts, their salty flavor brought tears to Alfred's eyes.
Arthur smirked, his lime-green eyes glittering in the dim light with cruel pleasure. "Too much for you, git?"
Glaring through his watery eyes, Alfred fumbled for his glass of water and, finding it, ripped it off the polished mahogany counter. After gulping down the cool, tangy liquid, he smacked his lips together and slammed the glass down.
"Not even close. Got any more?"
Arthur nearly dropped the steel shaker, his smile falling off. "Git! You looked about to need resuscitation just now!"
"That? Psshaa!" Alfred snorted, waving a hand dismissively at the now empty, black plastic bowl. "I've rammed bigger things than nuts down here." He pointed at his throat. For some reason Toris gasped from his left and Arthur's jaw fell open. Did they not believe him? "It's true! Remember? I told ya. I was Junior Hot Dog and Hamburger Eating Champ at the Iowa State Fair for three —," Alfred held up three fingers, "— years in a row. There's nothing I can fit in here. My jaw practically unhinges. Zero gag reflex!"
He grinned and puffed out his chest proudly.
Arthur's fuzzy eyebrow climbed so high it disappeared into the bangs of his messy blonde-hair. Then Arthur threw his head back laughing and set down the canister he was mixing Toris' drink in as he slumped over the counter, wiping tears out of his eyes from how hard he laughed.
"Artie. What's so funny? Tory, Artie's gone nuts. Get it?" He ribbed Toris lightly, but the man sat stiff on his stool, side plastered against the wood-paneled wall on his right. His hands clutched his now empty shot glass in a death grip, one he gazed at fixedly. "Yo, you got a fever or something?"
Toris's face had reddened. His lips pressed tightly and he only made a sound like 'Mmmph'.
Finally, it hit Alfred. Frowning at both of them, he jabbed an accusing finger at Arthur who stopped laughing. "You've never believed me! This whole time. You thought I was making it up!"
"What?" Arthur dead-panned.
"Well," Alfred slid over the laminated, black menu and said, "Get me your biggest sausage! I'll show all of you what this hero can do!"
A blush spread from Arthur's cheeks to his ears. "That is a-absolutely not allowed in this establishment, git. We are now that kind of place!"
"Then why are german sausages on the menu?" Alfred demanded, pressing a forefinger down hard.
Arthur massaged the bridges of his nose, narrow nostrils flaring. "Good God, git! Can you be any more oblivious to the mood? Don't you hear yourself?"
A soft tug on the sleeve of his brown leather jacket brought Alfred's attention back to Toris who, still not meeting his eyes, said meekly, "A-Al… perhaps you're misunderstanding."
"No, I got it! Between losing to that cheatin' bastard and my own friends thinking I'm a liar, my day has been perfect!"
"Oh, you lost again?" Arthur asked, his giant eyebrow forming a tiny split in the middle as they went downward around the sides of his round eyes.
"Yeah…" For once his smile slipped off. Toris patted his shoulder.
Arthur set two shot glasses on the counter in front of Alfred. "Whiskey, tonight. These two are on the house."
"Really?" Alfred grinned. Mood instantly brightening. "Aw, Artie. You're the best. Let me hug you!"
He threw out his arms, but Arthur held up his palms. "Don't get carried away, git!"
"I knew I could count on you. You're like the big brother I never had!" Alfred declared.
"You have a big brother," Arthur said. "Mattie? Remember?"
"Who?" Arthur scowled at him. "I'm just messing with you. Mattie's not my big brother."
"He was born first."
"I was conceived first."
Arthur paused, staring at Alfred. "How the bloody hell would you know that?"
"I just know. The hero knows these things," Alfred said, jerking a thumb against his chest. "So there we were, floating in our mother's womb. It was time for my heroic entrance into the world and I let Mattie go first. You know, as a 'ladies first' kind-of-thing."
"You're full of shit, you know that?" Arthur replied, shaking his head. He looked down to hide the smile peeking out from his scowl.
Alfred grinned and added, with a wink, "I was doing my manly duty in the womb and letting my big sister out first."
Even Toris chuckled. "Bullshit, Al. Mattie came first."
"Only cause I let him. The hero always makes sure everyone gets out first."
"Admit it, git. You were too stupid to figure out where the birth canal was," Arthur said wryly. Toris laughed at that.
"Untrue! That's not what happened!"
They continued their banter as Arthur finished Toris' drink and poured Alfred's whiskey — on the rocks, how Alfred loved it — Alfred spun the plastic bowl around his forefinger.
"So…" he began. "How about more nuts?"
"No. And I've warned you about calling me Artie."
"C'mon, Artie," Alfred said, as if not listening, "Your nuts taste amazing!" Arthur rolled his eyes. Toris slapped a palm to his forehead. Alfred interpreted their reactions as disbelief. "It's true. They're the perfect combo of salty and sweet. And they're even better if you lick first."
"Git, please stop talking." Arthur set their drinks on the counter.
"A toast?" Alfred picked up his glass.
"I'm on duty," Arthur said. A lady on the end of the increasingly crowded bar called for him to come over.
"Water's fine." Alfred gave his puppy dog eyes.
"Fine." Arthur filled a glass and they all raised their drinks, clinked, and downed them.
"That burns," Alfred said, wiping his lips with the back of his mouth. He put his glass down. "Keep 'em coming. I want the room spinnin' tonight."
By ten, the Mint Bunny was hopping, and Arthur hopped to and fro with no time for Toris and Alfred.
"Is this like the billionth shot?" Alfred slurred, swirling the little bit of whiskey left in his current round. "I lost count after that tequila."
"I don't even know how to count anymore," Toris muttered, wobbling in his seat. He stood up and sank back down. Then stood up again. "Gotta pee," he muttered before stumbling off through the thick crowds toward the toilets on the other side.
"Choosin' your bladder over your bro!" Alfred hollered over his shoulder. "What's the world coming to?"
Without looking back, Toris shot him the finger. Then the back of his long, blond head of hair and his forest-green sweater vanished into the crowd.
"Fucker." Alfred grinned, grabbing a handful of nuts to munch on. Arthur had caved — as he knew he would — and gave him more.
Still nursing his latest shot of whiskey, he did not look immediately over when Toris sat down, set his drink on the counter, and reached into Alfred's bowl for nuts.
Pushing up his glasses, he turned in his seat. "That was fast. You…" he trailed off at the sight of none other than Ivan Braginsky's bulky form wedged into the seat that had formerly occupied Toris.
Chucking Alfred's nuts into his mouth, Ivan smiled that eerie, child-like one he did so well, and said, "Hello, Fredka ~"
It reminded Alfred of Anthony Hopkin's "Hello, Clarice," from Silent of the Lambs, a movie that gave Mattie nightmares. Not Alfred. Alfred totally never freaked out about horror movies. He only grappled onto Matthew to calm his brother down.
"What the fuck?" Alfred blurted out, ripping his bowl of nuts away and caging them protectively with his arms. "How dare you touch my fucking nuts!"
The bastard leaned forward, showing one in his front teeth that he crushed with ease before swallowing them down. Licking his pale, pink lips slowly, he said, "But I like swallowing your nuts."
For some reason the husky way he said that caused Alfred's face to heat up. Despite the haze of alcohol, Alfred could still be affected by the man's evil aura.
"I hope you choke on them. They're big, American-brand nuts. Not like your itty-bitty, extra small Russian crap that taste like shit, I bet." A blush pinked Ivan's cheeks, or maybe it was the dim light of the bar fooling Alfred's eyes.
"I can assure you mine are very large and you would not object to their flavor."
Alfred frowned. "Like you know jack shit about me."
"Don't play dumb, Fredka. We both know what you want," Ivan the Terrible said.
"Yeah. My nuts."
"That I want."
"Get your own."
"I want yours."
Alfred scowled. What an asshole.
If he stood and walked off to the toilets to find Toris, he would a) lose their seats b) admit defeat to this son of a bitch and c) probably stumble from the alcohol in his system.
"You're not getting mine. Now go crawl back into whatevah dank cave you crawled out of!"
Ivan gulped the rest of what was likely vodka down and left it on the counter as he loomed over Alfred. Refusing to budge, Alfred met his glare. He could smell the stink of the man's minty, vodka-infested breathe.
"Fredka, I want your nuts. Your cocks. Your balls. Whatever you want to call them. I want you in my bed tonight," Ivan said. Alfred's brain shut down as his mind failed to process. His gaze flickered down to Alfred's crotch.
Ivan… is…gay?
Alfred had heard rumors, but he had never believed they shared this in common. He had always thought of Ivan as a sexless robot, incapable of that.
Warmth exploded from the pit of Alfred's stomach and across every inch of his skin. Sex with Ivan? Sleeping with the enemy?
Still in a state of shock, Alfred went to default mode. "Fuck off!" He stared at his nuts, face burning, and his voice higher-pitched than he meant.
"Afraid?" Ivan's breathe tickled his inner ear. A shiver ran through his body and he felt a twitch in his groin.
"N-No!" Alfred said. "It's not happening."
There was a pause. In a seductive voice, Ivan said, "Let's play for King of the bed. First one to orgasm is the Queen." His hand slid onto Alfred's thighs and squeezed. The hand slid onto Alfred's crotch. "See if you can top me."
With a gasp, Alfred clutched his nuts tighter, heart thumping. He licked his dry lips, tongue scraping.
"I…that…"
King?
When Toris returned to his seat, he saw Alfred's bowl of nuts on top of a hastily-written, barely legible napkin.
There was no Alfred. In fact, a woman sat in Alfred's seat chatting with another man, oblivious to Toris.
He frowned, grabbing the note and holding it up to the blue light of the bar. It read:
Sorry to bail. Heroic duty calls. Paid the tab. I'll text ya tomorrow!
Enjoy Artie's nuts! As salty as him!
Laters,
the Hero
"The hell?" Toris said.
Note #1 — Did I say two parts? I meant three! *holds up three fingers* Three!
Challenge — How nutty are you? Care to add to the nut-ridden euphemisms? ;)
