I thought this was my car but it isn't and you're passed out in the backseat and I don't know and 3 states later you finally wake up

A cheerful blonde whistled loudly, he had just been given a new assignment by his handler, or rather his agent, an obnoxious man with horrifyingly thick eyebrows and very good taste in photographers. The man was being sent off to Colorado, to see the Grand Canyon of all things, to take photos of the national treasure. Throwing his bag into the back of his crappy silver van the man, Alfred F. Jones, climbed into the driver's seat before turning on the ignition and driving out of the parking lot. Despite what many think he prefers driving in silence, enjoying the moments of solitude he didn't usually get. Normally he's forced to be the loud one or else him and his brother would fade into oblivion and he couldn't let that happen to Mattie. His poor brother had enough to deal with, considering his ex-boyfriend constantly bothering him, asshole…

"Next to him his phone buzzed, glancing over he rolled his eyes not even bothering to answer it. Allen was texting him again, honestly, the man had broken up with him months ago but texted like they were still together. "Damnit Allen…." Keeping his eyes on the road as best he could Alfred snagged his phone and silenced it before shoving it into his glove compartment. Driving itself wasn't bad, he didn't mind the traveling that came with his job but sometimes the blonde wished he had someone to travel with.

17 hours, 14 large coffees, and 9 monster drinks and Alfred was rolling into the cheapest motel google could find in the area, and he wasn't even half way there. Exhausted but still hyped up on the drinks he had bought on the way the blonde turned off the car, grabbed his phone and climbed out of the car. Turning to the back doors he opened the door to grab his equipment, it was too expensive to lose and Arthur would have his ass if he did, only to find someone passed out in the back seat.

"What the fuck," taking a deep breath and pinching the bridge of his nose, a habit he had picked up from his German friend, he closed the door and locked his car. Entering Silver's Motel he walked to the front desk and asked for some water. The pretty young brunette sitting there sent Alfred a strange look but handed him a water bottle. Thanking her he ran back to his car. Carefully opening the door, this time removing his equipment, Alfred opened the bottle before dumping it all over the Asian man sleeping in the back. "Dude who the hell are you?!"

"WHA- ," the man sat up quickly, banging his head on door. He had stepped out of the car as he spoke and stood menacingly, even though he was a good head shorter than Alfred. "Who the hell are you?!" The man cried sitting up pulling a needle from somewhere on his person, not that Alfred wanted to know, and placed it against the photographer's throat. "Who are you? How the fuck did you get into this car? This is my goddamn car!"

The needle was clearly sharp as it pressed against his skin, threatening to cut him, "Hey, hey calm down. It isn't even your car, this is my car." Alfred held his hands up in surrender. "We're in Colorado, at Silver's Motel. I was driving to take pictures of the Grand Canyon and found you in my backseat." After his explanation the man relaxed a little, lowering the needle to his side. "You calmed down yet dude?"

"You haven't answered my question yet," The man said shivering now. He was dripping wet, dressed in skinny jeans and a thin wife-beater shirt, it was midnight during autumn and Alfred felt like an absolute asshole.

Rubbing the back of his head the blonde pulled off my jacket for him, "I'm Alfred Jones and, uh, sorry about dowsing you…" The man looked balefully at him before accepting the aviator jacket and wrapping himself in it. "I'm going to go get a room if you want to stay with me you can otherwise you can stay in the car. I'm sorry to say but I'm not going back for a few more days. Until then this car, yours or mine, it's staying here until I head back home."

"It is alright I suppose…" the man muttered under his breath, the shivering had calmed down. "I am Kuro Honda. I'll stay with you. You will be paying." His voice was louder now but monotone and commanding. Alfred ran a hand through his hair before grabbing this bag from the other side of the car and throwing the backpack over his shoulder. "We're getting a double room though."

Alfred let out a laugh before walking into the building, Kuro following a step behind him. "'Course idiot." Rolling cornflower eyes Alfred spoke, "Now come on, I want to get some sleep before I have to wake up." The two entered the building, ignoring the look the woman at the desk shot Kuro and Alfred bought the key for room 32. Thanking her Alfred led his Asian companion with him to their room. It didn't take long for them to arrive only to find a small room with a tiny bathroom, one bed, a couch, and a TV.

"This was supposed to be a double room was it not?" Kuro asked crossing his arms in annoyance surveying the room. He was tired, despite sleeping for the last 17 hours, and was ready to fall asleep on his feet. "You don't suppose this room was a mistake do you?"

"The lady said there was only one room," Alfred said tossing his bag on the floor by the door and laying his equipment on the table by it. He stretched, yawned before turning to the other man. "You can sleep on the bed if you want, it's kinda my fault you're stuck here."

"I was going to sleep there anyways."