"Coffee?"
Arthur muffled a yawn with his hand, closed his eyes very hard and shook his head slightly before reopening them. It was a bit past eight in the morning, but his organism was still thinking Greenwich-wise and told him to get back in bed immediately.
The American in from of him wasn't going through this, logically. In fact, considering his disposition that early in the morning, Arthur wondered briefly if coffee would, indeed, be the best option for Alfred's nervous system.
"Yeah, there's this really good coffee shop right down the street! I was heading there anyway, so I thought you might wanna join or something. It's not like you have to if you don't wanna, it would be really cool if you did, but –"
"Ok."
"Huh?"
"Ok, I'll go. Just give me a few minutes to fetch a clean shirt."
Alfred smiled and nodded, leaning against the rail of the hallway window while Arthur strutted back to the apartment. He stretched his body a bit off the building, looking down at the colorful ants that were the cars on the street to pass time.
Meanwhile, Arthur tried to understand the Americans' obsession with coffee whilst looking for the other foot of his shoe. Seriously, coffee tasted absolutely revolting, and it didn't even compare to the quantity of caffeine in black tea. Still, he hardly dared to ask for tea anymore in restaurants, dinners or even markets…
True to his word, the Brit showed up at the hallway again in less than three minutes. He locked the door and searched for Alfred, finding him perched on the hallway window of the seventeenth floor, dangling his feet without a care in the world. He pulled him roughly by the front of his shirt, yelling something about suicidal instincts and complete stupidity.
"Relax, Artie, I'm alive, ain't I?" He laughed, winking at Arthur much like a child that just did something really bad would wink at his accomplice. Problem is, Arthur wasn't feeling much of an accomplice just then.
"We're more than forty meters off the floor, Alfred! Did that ever occur to you? Falling from this height head first on the water would already kill you! On the pavement, then, I do—Artie?" He stopped, wrinkling his eyebrows towards the other.
"Yeah, it's a pet name for Arthur! Calling you Arthur all the time sounds too formal. It reminds me of those Round Table legends, or that guy from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, or that dude who wrote Sherlock Holmes… is it just me or all Brits are called Arthur?"
Arthur made the most outraged face he could pull, because that was probably the biggest stupidity anyone had ever said about his name, but he suddenly remembered he was, in fact, already outraged at the American before, for a much more important reason, and the outraged face was replaced with one of sheer disapproval.
"Don't change subjects! Did you not hear anything I've just said?" He crossed his arms, slightly reminding Alfred of a professor he had in fourth grade. That got him laughing again, logically, and then he decided they'd been stalling for far too long already. He put an arm around the other man's shoulders and started going down the stairs.
"Course I did, Artie! I think half the building did as well, hm? But one thing you should know…" He looked very seriously into the green eyes, almost forgetting for a second what it was that Arthur should know. "… I have no idea how much is forty meters."
Some good nature offenses, a matching number of sarcastic responses and several facial expressions later – Alfred had no idea there were so many ways of conveying the message "you are an idiot" without saying anything at all – they got to the coffee shop down the street. Alfred got a super sized espresso with all possible and imaginable kinds of paraphernalia on top, from milk foam to Nutella, whereas Arthur ordered black tea.
"Not even a bit of sugar in that?" Alfred asked, half of his face hidden under layers of glucose. "Seriously, that must taste like dirty water or something like that."
Cue another expression denoting "you are an idiot". The American decided that that was one of his favorites, what with his mouth hidden by the cup and the flushed skin contrasting against the annoyed green of his eyes.
"It does surprise me that you still have taste buds enough to be the judge of anything, if that energetic bomb of yours is some sort of routine." Arthur looked at the other through the corners of his eyes, chuckling at the spot of Nutella on Alfred's nose. "I really hope it isn't, because half of your liquid gastritis is spread over your face."
He laughed, rubbing a napkin across his face mindlessly. "Nah, this one is just for special occasions."
The Brit rolled his eyes, taking the paper from his hands. "You know, if you actually paid attention to what you're doing, it'd take much less." He cleaned the stain easily, being careful not to bump his knuckles on the glasses that were sliding down the bridge of Alfred's nose. "There."
Alfred blinked, the mildly fogged glasses once again askew over his cheekbones. He pushed the frame back to its due place and tried to say something, being cut off by a rather confused smile. Not shy, not ever, just confused. They finished their mutually repulsive drinks and went back to the building, discussing the true origins of rock on the way.
"Clearly American. Chuck Berry is American, your argument is invalid."
"The Beatles won't ever be an invalid argument."
"What about Elvis?"
"Pfft. One name on the rockabilly doesn't make of the US the father of rock, sorry."
Alfred laughed, he was funny. Not that he was right, he wasn't, but he was funny. They stopped at the top of the stairs, Arthur fishing his keys from his front pocket.
"Well, thanks for the tea." Arthur smiled, running a hand through his hair to get a strand off his eyes. "It was… fun."
"It really was! We could go there again tomorrow, if you have nothing better to do and stuff." He bit his lips, smiling in a way he would really like to believe wasn't hopeful.
The Brit smiled, his eyes fixed on the broken elevator. He turned them to the American, smiled a bit more and stretched his body a bit to press his lips slightly against the other's. He pulled back soon, smiled once more and said a "sounds brilliant" that wasn't heard by anyone.
But Alfred got the message, anyways.