A/N: "Camp" in British slang means "a person who shows gay or effeminate behavior." If this is wrong I blame the internet. And sorry for the cliffhanger. :)

Arthur woke up to find that Alfred was already up making breakfast as usual.

Getting up, the angel staggered drowsily to the table. He noticed something different about the blue eyed man. Definitely different. But he couldn't seem to put his finger on it though.

Feeling the angel's gaze Alfred turned away from the frying pan.

"What's with the stare?" Alfred asked with a nervous smile. Maybe I had dressed up a bit too much.

Oh. He's wearing formal clothes, Arthur told himself as he scanned his eyes over the tie, buttoned up collared shirt, and black slacks.

"Oh," Alfred chuckled, fixing his tie as he turned his attention back to the frying pan that was now hissing. "I'm going to a few job interviews today. I had lost my job the day Matthew and I found you."

"…I'm sorry."

The man laughed boisterously, grabbing a few plates from the cupboard. "It's fine! I hated that job anyway. My boss was a German asshole."

Arthur smiled, laughing quietly from across the table. Alfred placed a plate of food in front of the angel.

"Just please don't tell Matthew," Alfred added quickly. "I don't want him to know."

The creature nodded. Unsure. Why would he keep something so trivial like that away from Matthew? It baffled him.

It was then that Matthew had darted down the stairs. Apparently he was late. It was then, that it finally occurred to Arthur.

He was going to be home alone all day.

Hiding a frown, Arthur picked at the food before him. Alfred and Matthew were chatting animatedly at the stove. Their conversation was cut short when Alfred saw the school bus in front of the house through the window. Handing Matthew a piece of toast, the boy sprinted out the door, nearly forgetting his school book.

"Ah, it's almost time for my first interview." Alfred said, mainly to himself as he glanced up at the clock. His eyes fixated on the sulking angel sitting at the table.

He sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to leave you alone but I had no choice. I can't take you out in public, of course. Will you walk me to the door, please?" Alfred begged, grinning from ear to ear as Arthur rose up from his chair.

"You're so camp." Arthur grumbled under his breath, only receiving a questioning look from Alfred. He was glad that the man didn't understand his dialect for once.

The angel followed the blue eyed man to the door, grabbing the suitcase he had left behind at the table. Arthur handed it to him and Alfred smiled warily. "I wish you could come with me. It'd be nice to have someone there."

"I would, but these bloody wings are kind of a problem that can't be overlooked, you know."

Alfred beamed, and opened the door slightly. "I know. Be careful, a'ight? I don't need you settin' the house on fire or somethin'. Matthew comes home 'round three, so he'll be here before I am. I'll call the house phone once I'm on the way back, 'kay?"

Arthur nodded. This felt oddly like a married couple situation.

"I'll see you tonight." Alfred chuckled, before leaning down to gently steal a kiss from Arthur. He watched for a moment as the pale angel's cheeks flooded with blood and laughed, shutting the door.

"Bastard." Arthur grumbled to himself as he stomped off into the living room.

The angel did not know what to do with himself. How could people stay locked away at home for such long amounts of time? It was ridiculous. Arthur sat on the couch for a good two to three hours, flipping through the channels on the television. Granted, it took him an hour in the first place to remember how the remote worked. But still, even with one thousand channels there was nothing on.

Alfred would never hear the end of this. He was going to argue and argue with the man once he got home. You don't just leave someone who's trying to recover home alone! Arthur grimaced. The house seemed unreasonably empty without the others.

Arthur heaved a sigh and decided he would walk around the house. Get to know his surroundings better. Maybe that could get his mind off of being alone.

----

"So, why were you fired from your last job?"

Alfred swallowed thickly. "I, erm, I fell asleep on the job"—at this he received a glare from the interviewer—"but I'd been workin' the night before! I didn't have time to sleep at home 'cause my boss was over workin' me! I didn't even get paid overtime!"

It stayed quiet in the office for awhile. Alfred scratched the back of his head nervously as the interviewer placed Alfred's papers down.

"We'll keep your records on file. Thank you for your time."

"Thanks." Bitch.

Alfred scowled as he shut the door behind him. That was the second fail of an interview already. This was not going well. Even though he was worrying about his next interview—which he was already ten minutes late for—Arthur couldn't help but cross his thoughts. The flustered look on his face after Alfred had kissed him kept replaying in his mind.

The blond man blushed.

I hope he's doing all right. I'll call him in a little while just to check up on him. Alfred glanced at his watch as he rushed back into his car. Twelve minutes now.

"Shit," the blue eyed man cursed under his breath as he quickly sped off down the road. "Only ten more interviews to go…"

---

It was already three o' clock. According to Alfred, Matthew would be home any moment now. Arthur had finished his little house exploration and had just woken up from his nap on Alfred's bed. He did not sleep there because he missed Alfred, of course. It was the last room he had wandered into, and it had just seemed so comfortable.

The angel's cheeks burned.

He couldn't even believe his own lies.

As Arthur sat up on the bed, he heard the phone downstairs start to ring. He guessed it was Alfred, seeing as how he told Arthur specifically that he'd be calling. Carefully making his way down the stairs he found Matthew walking through the doorway with his usual spacey smile Arthur loved to see.

"I'll get it," he said happily as he threw his backpack down on the floor, jogging over to the phone.

Arthur took a seat on the couch. He hoped it was Alfred. He couldn't wait to scold the human for leaving him by himself.

Matthew quickly brought the angel out of his plotting. "Arthur, Alfred wants to talk to you!" The curly haired blond held out the receiver towards the angel.

Arthur went hot-cheeked. "T-Thanks."

"H…Hullo?"

"Ah, there's my little angel." Arthur could feel Alfred smile through the speaker. "How are you holding up?"

"D-Don't call me that. I'm perfectly fine. Matthew just got home…What time are you coming back?" Arthur blushed, holding tightly onto the receiver. He was lucky the wall was there for him to lean on. He had started to feel the ground under him start to move.

Alfred grinned. "Eager to see me, or what?"

He laughed happily, making Arthur flush even more. "Oh, belt up! M-Matthew just wanted to know when you were getting home is all!"

There was a pause. Then another laugh, softer this time. "Well, tell Matthew I should be getting home in three or four hours. Oh, and tell him I can't wait to see him."

"O-Okay."

"See you later, Matthew."

"Shut up!" Arthur shouted, flustered as he hung up the phone with more force than necessary. When Matthew tried to ask him what was wrong he blushed again and said it was nothing.

----

"Hell, I didn't think that last interview would take so long, it's already seven." Alfred mumbled to himself on the drive home. He was almost home, carrying another failed attempt at job hunting on his shoulders. The blond hoped that Arthur wouldn't ask about it. He was already feeling pathetic enough as it was.

As he pulled up into the driveway he could see two figures running around the house. Alfred shook his head and smiled.

"What are you guys doing?" The blue eyed man questioned upon opening the door. He was greeted by a smiling angel and brother.

"We cooked you dinner! Arthur made the chicken and bread; I made the mashed potatoes and poured your coffee!" Matthew said merrily as he ran over to greet his brother.

Alfred stared at Arthur in shock. "You cooked for me?" He could feel a smile creeping up.

Arthur snorted. "It wasn't my idea."

"But, you were the one who told me to help you, Arth—"

"Matthew!"

Arthur went red, caught in another lie. It made Alfred smile even more than he already was. "Thanks, guys."

----

It was after dinner that Alfred figured he was left with no choice. He never thought he would have to stoop so low as to call him. Just the thought itself made his stomach churn. But then again, that food he had just eaten didn't help at all.

He waited in anticipation as the phone rang. And rang. And rang.

Just when he was about to slam his phone shut in anger, a man answered the phone.

"Hm, and what do I owe this wonderful pleasure?" The voice on the other line teased.

Alfred frowned. He was really going to do this.

"I have a favor to ask of you."

"…I'm listening."