Disclaimer: Hetalia and its characters belong to our papa, the troll king: Himaruya.

Summary: Young heir of a multi-million dollar company, Alfred F. Jones' hedonistic way of life was threatened by the arrival of his parents' newest watchdog in the form of a traditional British butler. Of course resentment quickly turned into infatuation when he found out Arthur the butler was, despite being older a few good years than him, a man with boyish good look and adorable hissy personality perfect for Alfred's teasing pleasure. US/UK.

A/N: A big tons of love and thank you to Eva Hazuki (my general beta-reader) and Star Anise (my go-to-person regarding appropriate usage of British slang). I don't know what I would do without you two darlings and I will definitely impose on you again in the future. Sorry and thank you for putting up with me *bows*

And of course a shower of love to all my readers/reviewers/people who subscribe for alerts/people who favorite this story. Holly crap guys, I'd never thought it would get this much positive response. So thank you so much, you've all made my day/week/month/year/5ever with all your supports.

The Butler

Chapter 2

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"I heard you have a butler now, Al-kun." A casual comment, laced with familiar Japanese accent and a few mechanical static, went live right into Alfred's ears, causing the young man to slightly adjust his headphones. He delayed the answer on the tip of his tongue, eyes glued to the screen in front of him that was currently showing a random street corner littered with rubble and wisps of black fumes. Gunshots were heard, and then with a few commands in the language of buttons from a video game controller, a grenade was launched into the distance.

"Where did ya hear it from, lil' dude?" Finally the cheery voice replied, accompanied by a well-timed explosion.

"I think you just killed Gil-kun." Another casual comment, but this time a light chuckle accompanied the voice. "And coincidentally, or as you Westerners like to say 'speak of the devil', I heard it from him."

The young American let his usual boisterous laugh rang, and it hit a higher decibel as 'IGotAwesomeSwag' appeared on his voice-chat window. With one swift click he declined the chat invitation, fully knowing that a certain albino only wanted to bitch his ears off. "And he claimed that Felix is the gossip queen…" Identical blue orbs were rolling. "Gil's such a fucking closet diva." The voice on the other side of the headphones joined the laugh and Alfred decided to interpret it as some sort of an agreement.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry, but I am extremely curious. What is he like?" The voice came again. "Butler-san, I mean."

A projection of Arthur Kirkland, butler extraordinaire with his fine black suit and pristine white gloves, appeared without consent in the depth of Alfred's mind. No, his cheeks did not just suddenly sprouting pinkish color, nor were they felt warm. No, he did not swallow his own saliva because his throat was parched. No, he was definitely not whipped. Thank you very much.

"Alfred-kun?" The figure-less voice seemed to have thought that the pause had gone long enough, and began to worry that he was being ditched due to the American seeing something shiny, or a squirrel, or some other random distractions. It wouldn't be the first time, really.

"Ah, I'm still here," Alfred replied, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck although his conversation partner couldn't see the gesture. The screen in front of him was now showing a replay of his game character's death, apparently being sniped by some asshole named 'titslord_koreadaze' during his Arthur-daydream. "Arthur...Arthur's nice enough, I suppose."

"Aah, so are you getting along well with Butler-san?" There was a smile there, but the seemingly innocent question made the young Jones heir froze. Again, the pause stretched several seconds too long to be normal, so the voice called once more sounding unsure, "Ano, Alfred-kun?"

"...Sometimes it hurts, Kiku."

"E-Eeeh?"

"My relationship with Arthur," Alfred elaborated. His right hand now cradling the upper half of his face while the fingers grabbed at his golden fringes and tugged at them in frustration. "It's just really complex…'cause he's complex. I mean, Arthur's so damn sexy that it takes all my self-restraint just to not rip off his suit and fuck him senseless whenever I see him, but-" he paused to take a deep breath here, "-underneath that pretty face he's something more. Something I've never faced before."

Somewhere below the same midnight sky, Kiku Honda tilted his head to one side while his best friend ranted on. Alfred's voice had turned into a grave whisper, as if the subject of the conversation was something as frightening as Internet censorship.

"He just can't keep his hands off of me, so our relationship is pretty much physical now. At first I tried to please him because I just wanna see him smile, ya know? Gosh, you should've seen him when he smiles, Kiku. It's damn close to a religious experience. Everything is like illuminated." The blond was gushing, and suddenly, without warning his voice cracked as though he was holding back a sob, "B-but he's so demanding that I just can't keep up. He wants me non-stop, day and even sometimes way past the night. It's like signing your soul to the demon. I mean, we all need a break once in awhile! So you know what? Fuck Arthur! I'm going to get back at him so awesome it hurts! But you get where I'm coming from, right dude?"

There were only static noise and almost unnoticeable sound of breathing filling his headphones. Alfred figured that his Japanese friend probably needed a moment to digest his wait-bro-let-me-pour-my-heart-out moment, and decided to use the gap in their conversation to reminisce his encounter with the butler one morning a few days after the Englishman had arrived:

Sock padded feet tip-toed across the smooth marble floor. With every few steps, blue eyes would roam around the surrounding area in high alert. As long as there was no sign of two caterpillars posing on top of an angelic face, the young master of the Jones house could breathe in relief. The front door was in sight now; just a few more feet until he reaches it. He could practically see Lady Liberty beckoning, ready to welcome the American into independence. His mind was happily humming the Star Spangled Banner, and shoes that were dangling from his left hand swayed in-tune with the melody. Getting closer, the door handle was within his reach—

Something silver (and geez dude, that look kinda sharp!) shot past him with an impressive speed before meeting the door's wooden surface in a resounding clash, and landed on the floor.

Alfred's arm had stopped in mid-air due to surprise, his gaze dropped at the fork near his feet. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he still could make a run for it. If only he would just grow some balls like the man he was supposed to be, and opened the damn door. But instead he found himself turning on his heel, and bravely (no, he wasn't shaking) facing his captor.

"And where are you going, if I may inquire, sir?" Those gem-like eyes zeroed in on him with a strange feral quality. All of a sudden, Alfred felt himself much like a baby mouse facing a snake.

"A-ahahaha, Arthur!" The fake laugh sounded just like what it really was: fake. "I was just umm...going to the office. Busy day Monday, yeah dude?"

The butler critically scanned his young master from head to toe. A massive eyebrow rose. "In your leather jacket, t-shirt, and jeans?"

Shit. "Err yeah. I thought I could take a break from the formal clothing once in awhile. Besides, don't I look better in this authentic World War Two bomber jacket than some boring suit?" He gave the skeptical butler a thumbs-up, completed with a grin that showed off his dazzling, pearly whites.

"Nonsense, sir!" Arthur chuckled, distracting Alfred with the way it rang nicely in his ears before the taller blond realized it could very well be the sound of his funeral bell.

The Briton came closer, and with each step that closed the gap between them, Alfred took a step back, until his back met the door behind him. The space between the two men was now minimized to the point that Alfred could see a few freckles splashed sporadically on the bridge of Arthur's nose. Aww, how cute—

"Strip."

—not.

"G-geez Artie, if you want me that badly we should totally do it in bed. More comfy than a random corner of the apartment, don't 'cha think?" It wasn't that he never had people telling him to do so before, it was just the way Arthur was doing it that seemed so different. The command was dyed in a mix of emotions, none that the playboy could pinpoint with precision, and they were unlike those 'strips' he had heard before coming from lustful mouths.

"You understand perfectly what I mean, young master Jones." Arthur smiled in the way an adult would in order to coax a small child. His right hand was reaching for the heir's arm, gently tugging it forward. "Let's get you changed, poppet."

See? This was why everything with Arthur Kirkland was so complicated. The man could shift from an oozing sex-appeal deity, to a savage dictator, then to a sweet little man who could very well be your mother-figure. It was that messed up. Maybe Alfred wasn't the only one with a disorder in this house. Maybe Arthur was bipolar or had schizophrenia or something. Shit.

Somewhere in the midst of him being a space cadet, Alfred had been successfully dragged back into his bedroom, stripped of his leather jacket, and now a pair of hands was tugging at the edge of his Captain America t-shirt, pushing it up past the American's chiseled chest. Being undressed while in a daze snapped Alfred back to reality. "Err excuse me, Artie, but what do you think you're doing to my body while I'm not paying attention?" His tone was more of a deadpan than anything.

For a fraction of second Arthur stiffened, his expression depicting that of a criminal being caught in the deed, before instantly changing it. Alfred blinked and half-wondered if what he just saw was some sort of an optical illusion. The butler was now giving Alfred a look of innocence, emphasized with the way he fluttered those eyelashes. "Since you seemed unresponsive, I was merely assisting you, sir. But you're back with us now, so I'll leave the rest of the task to you." He let go of the clothing and gave a little bow before taking several steps back.

"Uh, right…Thanks." Alfred decided not to read too deeply into things (it's not his forte, anyway) and just shrugged. He found his new clothing ensemble neatly piled and ready on the bed; rich-dark blue suits, a gray with black pinstripe dress shirt, and a thin silken black tie. As he began to peel off his current attire, starting from the t-shirt, he could feel a focused look trailing and taking in his every movement. With more sun-kissed skin and well-defined muscle being exposed, the gaze seemed to burn into him. Alfred swallowed, pondering on his suspicion. Dared he hope?

The young Jones slowly moved his neck as if he was trying to rid himself of a crick on the body part, slyly stealing a glance at his butler. To his disappointment, Arthur was locked in a glaring match with the wine-colored carpet underneath his shoes as if the interior ornament had done something to offend him. Did Alfred only imagine those lingering looks then?

"I'm done," he finally turned to face Arthur, properly dressed as the top executive of a multimillion dollar company his father wanted him to be. "So, I guess I'll be going now."

"No breakfast, sir?"

"No, thanks. I'll just get something at McDonald's." He waved carelessly, wanting nothing but to get into his car and drive to freedom. Office? Ha, they could suck his—

"Just let me fixed your hair a bit, sir." Arthur's voice took that gentle tone again. "Come sit down so I could do it properly." He guided Alfred into a chair behind his work desk. It was probably the soothing tone, coupled with the English accent, that made Alfred obediently followed behind the smaller man and did what was told of him. Arthur went behind the furniture and began running his slim fingers among Alfred's locks. It felt quite nice, especially when those fingers found his cowlick and tugged at it experimentally. Now that felt really nice, and the hormonal young man (he should've passed this stage, like seriously) began to get rather excited. Down there.

Trying to make his awkward problem go away, Alfred tried to focus on something else rather than Arthur and his magic touch. That was when he found stacks of documents, labeled with today's date in Toris' handwriting, sitting innocently on the desk. "Why are these here?" He indicated to the documents with his right hand.

Something suddenly clicked itself on his left wrist, and a second click was heard as his left hand was yanked down. Alfred could only react with a short yelp before realizing that he had been handcuffed to the armrest. Arthur was imitating the Cheshire cat's grin right beside him. "I beg your pardon, sir, but apparently I shouldn't trust that you'll be going to the office willingly like you say you would. At least that's what my predecessors have told me, so last night I took the liberty and asked your secretary, Mr. Lorinaitis, to kindly fax the documents that needed to be signed."

"..."

Oh, that's it. The son of a bitch was going down.

With a roar Alfred launched himself into Arthur, dragging the man, himself, and the chair down to the floor. Arthur got the wind knocked out of his system as he landed with two extra baggages on top of him. It took Arthur a moment to regain his air supply, and it was then that Alfred got acquainted with Arthur's explosive side.

"GET OFF ME THIS INSTANT, YOU FUCKING FAT ARSE!" The slender man screeched, while trying to push off the big lump of human from his person.

Alfred, of course, didn't budge because he was quite offended by the insult. "I'm not fat, you dick! It's the chair that's heavy!" It had to be the furniture. He worked out too routinely too be fat. Rude!

"Just get off, get off!" Arthur kept trying to relieve himself from the situation, which included pounding his fists against the younger's chest.

Alfred grinned broadly, looking down as the source of his frustration just moments ago was now wiggling underneath him. Being the hero he was, Alfred propped himself up a bit with his right hand, granting the butler a small breathing space, although it wasn't roomy enough to allow escape. He enjoyed seeing Arthur like this: shades of red blooming from his cheeks, to the tips of his ears, even to his neck as parts of their bodies smashed together like pieces of a messy puzzle. Their faces and chests almost touched, while from the stomach below they were only separated by their clothes. Two pairs of legs were tangling in one another. Of course this meant that Arthur could very much feel the 'little problem' Alfred was having earlier, since the slight-hard member was pressed against his own groin.

Those bright greens widened to a point that they looked almost comical. The blush on Arthur's skin brought reinforcement, contrasting the man's eyes rather nicely with his current complexion. The butler opened and closed his mouth, struggling to verbalize something that could make sense. In the end he just sputtered an almost unintelligible "Pervert!" and "Wanker!"

The American let out a joyous laugh at the other's misery. Tempted to make the most out of the situation, he leaned in and nuzzled Arthur's gracefully carved neck with his nose. The quaint scent of Earl Grey and something rather sweet and woody, perhaps from some kind of cologne, mingled and infiltrated his senses. Lured by the aroma, he softly brushed his lips across the smooth skin, moving down the length of the neck. He stopped just above Arthur's collar bone, and began sucking and grazing at the spot gently with his teeth. The exclusive attention on the base of his neck caused the Briton to let out a strangled moan, as both his hands flew up instinctively and onto his master's hair, though he did not really know what to do after that.

An idea struck when Arthur saw the lone cowlick swayed in harmony with the movement of its idiotic owner. He immediately made a grab for the hair and yanked it up as hard as he could. The reaction was instantaneous:

"YEEEEEOOOUUUCCHHH!"

The tragic howl of pain brought the smile back to Arthur's lips. "Alright, get off me now git or I'll pluck this blasted hair right out by its root!"

Since then their relationship had become a chaotic jumble of not-quite-friendship, unresolved sexual tension, and outright physical violence. The neighbors had learned to ignore the bumps, cries of mortal torture that was usually accompanied by some form of obscenities, and the sound of things crashing that resulted from objects being hurled. Actually, now they pretty much preferred to completely ignore the existence of young Mr. Jones and his peculiar English butler. Ignorance was indeed a bliss, they would say.

However, for one Kiku Honda, his best friend's story was one that he could not simply ignore. He replayed Alfred's words in his mind, as if he was trying to solve any secrets and codes that could be hidden within those sentences. Just like Alfred's, his imagination started conjuring a portrayal of the event involving a certain blond young master and the blank face of a butler, which he immediately filled in with a random bishounen. The scenario was quite close to the one Alfred currently recalled, except for Kiku's image was decorated with less physical struggles, and more explicit anal actions…with tentacles.

He regretted nothing.

Thus with that, a medium-sized package arrived at the Jones household about two weeks after Alfred poured his heart out to his best friend. Arthur signed the paper for the deliveryman and carried the box to the dining table for his master to inspect it.

"It's from my buddy, Kiku." Alfred announced happily after reading the tidy hand-written note on the package.

"Shall I help you open it, sir?" Arthur offered, right hand already armed with a scissor.

"Sure, thanks Artie!"

It just took several seconds for the package to be neatly dissected, its contents openly displayed for two set of curious eyes. A man promptly raised his eyebrow while his younger counterpart seemed horrified.

Dozens of Viagra boxes were tightly jammed inside.

"Are you doing something dangerous without my knowing, sir?" There was a threat hidden somewhere in the question.

"Wha—no!" Alfred shook his head rapidly. "I-I don't even know why he would—"

"There's something else in here." The butler pulled several thin colorful books from one side of the package, apparently those being slipped in after the Viagra. Reading a few pages confirmed that the books were in fact comics…of gay porn.

The current page that was being gazed upon, by both butler and master, was depicting a man with light-colored blond hair (much like Arthur's own) being laid on his back on a broad dining table that was littered with messy food and desserts. His overall appearance was distastefully disheveled with the way the white dress shirt was fully unbuttoned, and his tie somehow ended up binding his wrists together. A pair of black pants with a union-jack boxer peeking from inside them was dangling on one of the man ankles, shamelessly exposing his vital part. Interestingly enough, the only piece of clothing that managed to stay perfectly on was a pair of dark socks. However, the man didn't seem to care much about fashion or modesty as his face was in pure elation with furrowed wild eyebrows and dark tinge across his cheeks. Another man with dirtier blond, and a somewhat familiar gravity-defying strand of hair, was leaning down at the edge of the table. Both of his hands were holding the first man's pale thighs up in the air, fingers grasping the skin with such pressure that it would guarantee red marks. He was apparently bending his friend in a certain way so that it would allow him to lick some sort of cream that was spread (for a reason or another that was surely against food hygiene rules) on the other man's buttocks.

.

.

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"Shit. So that's why he wanted me to send him your picture."

TBC

A/N: Guys guys...I'm not even sure what I had just written, or what I will write anymore (well, okay maybe I do have some basic plot in my mind, but still) :)) So if you have any ideas/suggestions for these two send it my way.