Smokes and Punk Clothes
A USUK fanfic

{ Wow, sorry for the super-late update. Welp. OTL }

Ah, well, at least detention was over after three days. I was walking to a certain room on the third floor after classes when I didn't have detention anymore, where Arthur had told me to go after a weird phone call. I swear, it had me all confused because he just called all of a sudden to tell me to go to a room. No explanations, he just hung up.

I went around a corner then looked everywhere for any signs of life in this floor because everyone has already gone down or home and almost no one was on this floor. Then I saw them, Arthur's band, standing in a room with their instruments, busily preparing to start. Orange light from the sunset outside the windows filtered into the room, hitting the sides of the room. I took a slow step inside the room and cleared my throat, making Arthur look up. He didn't look anywhere near delighted to see me, although, he didn't look pissed off by my appearance either. "Hello." He nodded and cocked his head to the side, gesturing to the bench to the far left of the room. I sat down and watched them do their thing.

"So, Artie, what am I here for?" I grinned, putting a leg over the other while relaxing on the long, wooden seat.

His huge brows frowned at me. "Stop calling me that. Anyway, I called you here so that you can fulfil your end of the bargain. Well, some of your end."

"Oh. You mean the photographer thing?" I took my camera out of my bag and shook it playfully. "Well, lucky day for you and your band, I have it right here so we could get it started."

"Good." For a fraction of a second, I thought the corner of his mouth twitched up in a sort of smile like he was pleased with me or something, but it disappeared too quickly for me to notice. "It'd be beneficial to you if you get acquainted with everyone now." He added.

"This is Jett, you already know him," he pointed to Jett who waved his hand at me from the back of the room, "Gwyneth," he then pointed to the blonde girl in highlights who I saw two weeks ago, dragging Arthur away from me in the middle of our conversation, "and William." He pointed to another guy whose hair was styled quite weirdly. Blonde, with large curls on each end. He had a kind face, and a nice voice to boot, and I don't even know if he should be in a punk-rock band.

"Hi, you guys." I grinned a bit awkwardly and waved.

Gwyneth smiled at Arthur, like she was highly pleased with him. Then she turned to me. "I remember you. You're the pretty boy Artie here was talking to before along the hallway. I'm sorry for being so rude. Welcome to the club, twyllo." I could feel her green eyes piercing into me, scrutinizing me in her head.

"Uh, thanks?" I said with an unsure smile, and Arthur looked kinda disappointed at Gwyneth. I wonder why?

Arthur told me the basics and what I should mostly take pictures of, and what angles should I take the pictures. After the briefing, I started taking pics of them preparing, then I took a video of them playing their recently composed song called "8-bit".

It's as simple as 8-bit
Did you know, oh
The sounds of techno
Make it go, oh
That's the way, the way
My heart beats all the time

Make the electricity flow
Attraction like a magnetic pull
I can hear my 8-bit heart
Beating whole
It's the way, the way
Our heartbeats sync like rhymes

I gotta say, they play good for an amateur band. I wonder why they haven't stepped up their game. Arthur's voice, though... It's really different from the way he talks. He holds nothing back when he sings, gives it his all, yet he still makes it look effortless. His voice is just really awesome and nice to listen to.

When they had finished, I showed Arthur the shots I have taken. He nodded in approval, saying that I was good with the camera and that the shots were good. From my experience with him, he's the kind who rarely compliments, but I made sure to cherish it.

"What do you guys think?" Arthur asked the other members who were now disassembled from their band and sitting around everywhere. They had seen the pictures earlier before Arthur talked to me.

William smiled kindly. "They were really nice!"

"They were cool! You've got potential, kid." Jett grinned.

Gwyneth shrugged with a light sneer. "It wasn't really that huge of a success, but it was fair enough." Arthur looked at her with a light frown creasing his eyebrows.

"Gwyneth, what's wrong with you today? You've been acting like a huge arsehole." Arthur did nothing to hold back his own words towards his sister, just said those things to her ever so simply without any hesitation. Gwyneth looked at him, appalled by his choice of vocabulary, much more towards her.

"You dare talk to me like that, Arthur?" She scowled at him. "Like it's any of your business how I have been acting today."

"Guys..." William said sternly yet tentatively, but Jett told him not to intervene.

"You've been taking your bitchy attitude out on Alfred here, of course it's my business! He's my guest, after all." I didn't know if I should be honored that he's defending me, or if I should feel something else right now because of the situation.

"Am I, now? Well, I couldn't really blame myself for being so annoyed at the Yank — he's not much of a good catch, huh, Artie?"

"What?" He stood up angrily. "I'll have you know that Alfred's a really good photographer and a really nice person, if that's what your concern is about!"

I could see Jett in the corner with a sly smirk. "Give it up, Gwyneth. Eyebrows here is defending Four-eyes. He's not going to go for you."

I bristled at the sound of a somewhat-insult. "Four-eyes?" I repeated, but he didn't hear me, because Arthur was looking confusedly at Jett now.

"Go for her? What in the world do you mean?" He asked incredulously.

"Haven't ya heard?" His grin turned from devious to outright devilish. "Gwyneth's got a high school girl crush on wee Artie here!"

"Jett..." William whispered in a warning tone, but he wasn't heard either. Gwyneth looks like she's hanging on a thread before she falls and explodes. Her cheeks were fully pink with disbelief and outrage.

"Jett!" She shrieked, surprising all of us. "You—" She cut herself off to hurl a book at Jett while Arthur just looked completely flabbergasted at the revelation.

"She has a crush on me?" Arthur's eyes were as wide as saucers, "But Gwyneth's my sister! Are you daft, Jett?" Even he couldn't believe it.

"Well, no one said it wasn't allowed." Jett shrugged before another object thrown at him with violent force. Man, that girl sure could get violent...

"You fucking idiot!" She yelled, striding up to Jett to punch him in the gut. Holy crap.

"Gwyneth!" Arthur exclaimed. "I've had enough of this!"

Gwyneth turned, looking utterly humiliated, before storming out of the room.

No one dared to move a muscle. "We should just leave her alone for a while..." William spoke up, and there was a silent agreement.

"I-I'm sorry about her attitude towards you today..." Arthur said quietly to me. That was actually the first time I've seen him so confused, unsure and just plain dumbfounded about everything.

"Hm? Oh... Um... It's okay, no real harm done." I smiled good-naturedly.

Arthur gulped, nodded and then excused himself to go outside.

"Well, I guess it's all okay now." Jett sat down next to me on the bench out in the school courtyard with a can of Pepsi in his hand. I scooted a bit more to the edge to give him more space.

"Hey, what was that really about?" I asked cautiously.

"Oh, it's just how Gwyneth has a crush on Arthur. She admitted to me one afternoon that she was deadly jealous of you and stuff." He shrugged and laughed; the idea was ridiculous. "She's actually had a crush on him since forever. No matter how hard she tried to move on, she still comes back to him."

"What? Why would she be jealous of me? I'm a guy, it's not like I'm gonna steal her away from him." I shook my head and chuckled.

"Eh? But you could if you wanted to. Arthur's as straight as a circle." Jett winked and my eyebrows shot up.

"Wha— You mean he's gay?" I said in disbelief.

"Shh, now. Don't tell anyone. But yeah." Jett laughed again, shrugged and studied my face carefully.

I couldn't really say anything. He didn't seem like that. "Is he really...? Wow. Who'd have known, huh?"

We both sat there in silence before Arthur approached us, an annoyed Gwyneth in tow.

"I told you it wasn't necessary—"

"I will not have any of it, and you go apologise right—"

"You're such a bleeding wanking fruity piece of shit, really, Arthur!" She hissed at him in an undertone.

Arthur ignored her pointedly and took another step towards me, motioning his sister to follow him.

"Alfred, I'm sorry for causing you trouble earlier. It wasn't supposed to be that way especially with your first experience with us in our group." He nodded at Gwyneth who grumbled before looking at me. Her words would certainly be less than sincere.

"I'm sorry for flipping out on you but yeah, I like Arthur and so what? You lay off him, asshole, and we're cool, got that?" She sneered down on me, and I raised a brow at her. Well, so much for an apology.

"Um... Apology accepted?"

"You're such a retard, Gwynnie. Since when was that a proper apology?" Arthur chided.

"Don't you EVER call me that again!" Gwyneth hissed at him, green eyes glowing eerily.

Jett and I watched and laughed as the pair argued. They would have made such a nice couple who'd have lots of hatesex. If only they weren't actually siblings and possibly produce mentally-retarded children. We talked a bit more and before I knew it, I had to go and another day was over.

Arthur told me over chat (he had added me on Facebook one day) that he was still pretty sorry about how things turned out for me and that he was going to make it up to me by taking me out to McDonalds later.

Can you believe it? Stuffy McStuffy British Eyebrows is going to take me to an American fast-food establishment that serves "piles of tempting grease, cholesterol and fats". What has the world come to?!

I accepted the invitation quicker than you can say Ronald, and soon we were on our way there.

"McDonalds? Seriously, man? Thought you hated the food from here." I laughed, walking alongside him as we went into the establishment that smelled of fast food, grease and people.

"Well, yes, I do, but seems like the shit has grown on me. I find myself missing it from time to time." He shrugged and we got some food, causing some hold-up in the line because I was indecisive about what to order. "Jett goes here all the time for a quick snack — lad gets hungry quite often, so he finds this shithole convenient. I usually tag along with him so I get to eat the stuff from here too, albeit involuntarily."

We sat at one of those booths, and my butt just naturally sank in that nice, soft, plush couch. I opened my quarter pounder's wrapper. "Ahh..." I closed my eyes and took a bite of my burger, teeth sinking into the layers of buns, meat, vegetables, cheese, condiments and all that until it hit buns and teeth again. Delicious. My one true love.

Arthur's eyebrows raised questioningly at me, his facial expression between amusement and disapproval.

"What? This shit just tastes so good, I had to moan."

"Alfred, we're in a public place." He looked around, cheeks flushing pink at the off-chance that someone might have heard Alfred's inappropriate eating.

"Don't care." I resumed eating my burger, each bite with inappropriate sounds. From time to time, I took a sip of my Coke, and Arthur would just look at my face closely while eating his large fries.

Once I was done, I wiped the mustard and ketchup from my lips with a quick sweep of my tongue. "Thanks Artie!" I grinned at him.

"It was nothing." He shrugged modestly.

Luckily for me (aaand, maybe not for him?), it was my day off and I was real bored so I spent my entire day either tailing behind Arthur or leading him to random places around. We didn't really care if we got lost; we just walked and walked and walked and walked everywhere.

Arthur's shoulder collided with someone else's who was going the opposite direction in the middle of our walk, and he hastily apologized, like it was an auto-response. But when Arthur turned and saw the guy properly, his expression turned unpleasant.

"Oh. Emil. Hello." He greeted curtly.

"Arthur?" The guy raised an eyebrow. His hair was platinum blonde and he wore a dress shirt with dark jeans, like any normal guy would. Nothing too remarkable or special about him, really. The guy had an accent as well. What the heck is this even, United Nations Country (look, I made an oxymoron! Ain't I smart?)?!

The guy turned around properly and looked kinda unamused. "What brings you to this part of town? I don't really see you around here. Wouldn't expect you either, especially with Jones."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" I asked heatedly, frowning at the guy.

"Whoa, calm down. I just meant that you two seemed unlikely to be seen walking together in the park, y'know? Don't get so fussed up." Emil rolled his eyes. "I thought you go for the more wilder boys, Arthur?"

Arthur looked at him with wide, shocked eyes. Stammering, he managed to choke out, "Wh-what in the world are you implying, you arse?"

"Dunno, maybe the fact that you get around with the bad boys more." The Icelandic teen shrugged nonchalantly, while Arthur was looking like he was hanging on a strand of thread.

I frowned and looked from one side to another, puzzled, like watching a tennis game without knowing what was really going on. What's the kid tryin' to imply? 'Get around'? Damn, hope that doesn't mean anything weird now...

"I most certainly do not; what made you even accuse me of such slanderous lies?!" Arthur's nostrils flared, green eyes boring into the offender. I've noticed that he uses bigger words when he's aggravated.

"Alfred's kinda soft, if you ask me. Maybe your taste in men mellowed down a bit?" Emil raised a brow, looking as if he had got Arthur cornered. Okay, now I'm pretty damned sure he meant something else by that. Taste in men? Wow, that kinda says something else.

"Me? Soft?" I piped up, a bit offended, but the two chose to ignore me.

"Are you provoking me, Emil?" Arthur sneered.

"Maybe."

"You're really asking for it, you ice douche."

Okay, seriously, that was quite confusing. And it escalated quickly.

"Seven in the evening, this Saturday. You know where." Emil gave a flicker of a smirk towards Arthur, before turning away and leaving.

Moments after, when Emil's back was still in our line of vision among the other people in the park but out of earshot, Arthur was sneering at him.

"Who is he? Guy seems familiar, but I can't place him."

"Sophomore. Icelandic bloke with a hard-to-pronounce last name. Stelisson? Steilsoon? I hardly even bother trying to say it, myself."

I looked at him with a confused expression. "You don't seem to be on good terms with him."

"No shit, Sherlock." He rolled his eyes and groaned exasperatedly. "He's the main singer of our rival band. His band has three other members: a Junior named Tino, his brother, also a Junior, named Lukas, and some Asian from his year named Leon. They play around more on the rock and metal part of music, whereas my band's on the punk-rock.

"Emil is actually a really quiet person in real life, introverted, a wallflower, if you may. He only actively participates in things related to his band, or things like licorice and puffins. Not sure why that, exactly, but in everything else, he is passive. He does seem to enjoy picking on me and my bandmates, though."

I nodded understandingly, but my face was still in a frown. "What's that he said about you getting around and your taste in men?"

"As if I wasn't obvious enough, I'm as straight as a circle. Let's leave it at that." Arthur smiled a bit, not really a happy or a smug smile, just a small, 'okay' smile.

"A-ah." I didn't really mind that Arthur was gay (at least, that's what I think he meant?), I mean, I'm his friend and all, but I was still quite shocked that he 'got around' a lot. "That's cool, man." I grinned at him.

"...You think it's something to be amused about?" He frowned deeply, and he probably thought I was mocking him. I hastily amended.

"No, no!" I shook my head frantically, "I meant, it's cool, it's okay. I'm glad you told me that, y'know? Coming out to someone isn't that easy."

"Please don't think it's anything special — it's not like you're the first to know. Hell, I'm quite surprised you never knew until now." He looked at me as if I were a moron, and frankly, that's how I felt right now.

"Oh, s-sorry. But yeah, it's cool." I patted him on the back. "What's he saying about seven in the evening, this Saturday, though?"

"Another face-off between our bands. Lukas and Gwyneth hate each other with a passion, and they're probably the only ones who take this more seriously than Emil. Emil thinks it's entertaining, though, so he still initiates it. Their band's won three times in a row now." He scowled as he spoke.

I suddenly had an idea. "Do you want me to go with you? I could be, uh, moral support plus photographer."

"I don't want you to, but you have to. Let's just say these show-down things, whatever you call them, don't end nicely. Wouldn't want you getting involved in a lot of shit."

"Really? Whatever, I'm okay with those stuff. So yeah, I'll just meet you..." I trailed off, cueing him to complete my sentence.

He grinned mischievously, the last word coming out a bit more strongly than he had intended. "Valhalla Viking Hall, the shithole of liquor, smokes, blaring music, and hoes."

Author's Notes: Oh my God, I am so sorry for the late update! I kinda lost myself with the story, like a dead end, writer's block. Nasty piece of shit. Took me months to think of upcoming scenes. I guess next chapter'll be about the face-off between Arthur and Emil's band, something bad happens like Arthur said, theeeen, maybe our little protagonist won't escape that nicely. Maybe. Not saying anything for sure.

Gonna update 'Head Over High Heels', 'My Erotic Ambassador', then 'The Walk'. Then I'll have to do something about those USUK drabbles ('Reasons Why I Love Alfred F. Jones). Wow, I am so inconsistent. Haha~

In case you haven't noticed yet, Emil is Iceland. My headcanon last name for him is Steilsson, rather than the more popular variant, Bondevik.

Gwyneth is Wales, William is New Zealand, Jett is Australia. I still am not sure if I have mentioned that in another A/N before, but either way, here you go. Until next time, my lovelies~