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 that Arthur the butler, despite being older a few good years than him, was a man with boyish good look and adorable hissy personality perfect for Alfred's teasing pleasure. US/UK.

A/N: Where would I be without my wonderful betas? So a shout out of thanks and much love to Eva Hazuki and Star Anise :D

And to anon reviewers who I can't thank personally:

LOVIN' YA MESMERIZE BULLS: Your review (and your name) made me giggle, and blush, and ahshdjsdhjsk ;A; Thank you so much!

kalimay: I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as much :D Thank you for the kind review.

Warnings: Slight seemingly RussUK

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The Butler

Chapter 4

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Ever since the prank incident, Arthur Kirkland had noticed that his young master was becoming more affectionate towards him, and not in the shameless flirting kind of way. He was used to the arse-staring, the offhand suggestion that they should be involved in some sort of bedroom activity together, or anything that remotely resembled sexual harassment (he had plenty of practice dealing with this kind of issue considering he had the frog as a friend since university). But the tender looks, the subtle lingering touches, the lit-up eyes and dopey smile gracing the American's face whenever he saw him...ugh, it was utterly irritating how those things could make him feel like he just swallowed a jar of live butterflies.

Then there were those little...'tokens of appreciation', as Alfred would call them. From the traditional flowers and chocolate, to the less desirable McDonald meals, the loud blond always managed to bring something home for Arthur after work. He might be overstepping his boundaries as an employee by thinking this, but it seemed as if the heir was trying to (dared he say it?) court him.

Instantly, a blush was blooming on each of the Briton's cheek for two reasons. The first being a realistic image of Alfred, with those blasted baby blue eyes, and that dreadfully handsome boyish charm popping up somewhere in the corner of his mind uninvited. The second was the shame he felt for even coming up with such a preposterous idea. After all, why would an attractive, young heir of a multimillion dollar company want to associate himself romantically with a mere butler who was also older a few good years than him?

Arthur shook his head as he took one last drag out of his fag before stubbing it on a small metal ashtray, which was next to him on a table near the balcony railing. Honestly, this must had been some kind of a game to Alfred, trying to take the piss out of the poor unsuspecting butler or something similarly vile like that. Well, he refused to be reduced to a blubbering lovesick fool by that absolutely beautiful prat.

"You are blubbering like a lovesick fool, Sourcil. Repeat it one more time, s'il vous plait?"

"Frog!" Arthur spat the nickname like a curse word into the speaker phone. "I was not blubbering, you just happened to give me a ring when I'm currently-" he paused to sniff and rub his nose with his arm before continuing, "-chopping up some onions."

It was Francis' turn to pause. Then with a dreading tone he asked, "Why are you allowed in the kitchen? Mon Dieu, should I call the fire department right away?"

"Oh, belt up!" The Englishman waved the knife he was currently using, and made some kind of a vague, but obscene motion in the air. "I'm only making some sandwiches. Alfred is coming home for lunch, you see..." He purposefully trailed off. The sound of a knife on a chopping board momentarily filled the silence. "I-it's not like I'm doing this because of him personally. It's just one of my duties as an excellent butler."

"Oui, oui." Francis did not sound like he particularly believed it, or cared for that matter. "So what was that about 'im asking you on a date?"

"It isn't a date!" Arthur flushed, silently thankful that Francis couldn't see him at the moment. "He only said that an acquaintance of his is holding some sort of a charity dinner and musical performance tonight, and he requested me to accompany him. As his butler, naturally." He hastily added the last bit as an afterthought.

"Aah, so that's the reason you won't be needing my-" The Frenchman paused meaningfully, being the fucking drama queen that he was, and continued with an emphasis, "-service tonight. Shall I wish you good luck with l'amour?"

"There is no bloody l'amour, you frog." Arthur seethed as he unceremoniously dumped the finished sandwiches onto a plate. "It's strictly a professional relationship."

"Of course, mon ami."

Arthur could've sworn there was the usual 'ohonhonhon' laugh concealed somewhere in that sentence.

The moment seven in the evening ticked by, Arthur found himself clad in an expensive, brand-named tuxedo, his hair neatly slicked back with enough amount of hair gel to tame the unruly locks.

"I don't understand, sir," Arthur smoothed out the front of his tailcoat jacket, suddenly feeling very self-conscience, especially with his young master currently gazing at him with bright, round eyes. "I'm certain my usual suit would have been sufficed for the occasion, so there is no need for you to spend money on a new tuxedo just for me."

"No, no, no. This is totally worth it." Alfred beamed as he examined the Englishman from head to toe. He was nodding with satisfaction. "All you need is a top hat, and you would've look exactly like one of those high-class Victorian dudes, except that you're sexier, of course."

"Err..." Arthur flushed as his hand began to smooth out the non-existent wrinkle from the jacket once again. "You're being too kind, sir." Especially when you're the one who look like the personification of Adonis himself, his mind added while taking in the sight of the young American in a similarly-styled tuxedo. The garment was accentuating the muscular beauty of Alfred's figure perfectly. It made his broad shoulders appear more angular, and it also redefined his torso and waist in a way that created a stunning, manly curve. Not to mention that elongated pair of legs, and that firm bum.

If Arthur had less self restraint, he would've started salivating by now.

"A hero only speaks the truth, Artie." The American winked before he straightened up and opened the front door. He turned a little to the side, offering his right hand to the butler. "Shall we, my lord?" An alluring smile was gracing his features.

Arthur chuckled and replied in a teasing tone, "Aren't you quite a charmer, Mr. Jones?" Nonetheless, he reached out and took the hand into his own.

As far as Arthur could see, only the wealthy and prominent individuals were attending, with most of them walking about and socializing inside the large ballroom where the pre-party was currently underway. Alfred introduced him to a few of his friends and their respective butlers or maids, whom all seems quite interesting (and by that he meant worrisome). But none left a much deeper impression in Arthur except for Mathias Kohler...or rather, his stoic butler, Lukas Bondevik.

The Norwegian was unresponsive during the initial introduction and conversation, which somehow turned into a silly argument between the two young masters on 'whose butler is more adorable.' But when Alfred mentioned that Arthur had unicorns and fairies as imaginary friends ("C'mon dude, how adorable is that?"), Lukas immediately appeared interested. The reason was revealed when Mathias laughingly claimed that his butler often mistook tall buildings as giants ("It's so ridiculous, it's adorable!"), promptly earning the Dane a vengeful step on his toe from the smaller man. The common interest in mythical creatures soon got the two butlers talking amiably, and later ended the chat with a smile and a warm handshake.

As of now, Arthur was standing near a fake potted sun flower at one corner of the room, feeling a tad out of place without his young master beside him. Alfred had told the Brit to wait there and left to approach an important looking middle-aged gentleman near the refreshment table. Posing as the perfect lone wallflower (leaning against the wall, arms were crossing against each other on the chest), Arthur could feel a few people were throwing curious glances at him. They were probably wondering why they had never seen him among their golden circle until now, and whether it would be beneficial to network with him.

It was absolutely unnerving.

Arthur tried to catch Alfred's eyes, telepathically willing him to return. But the silent communication went unnoticed as Alfred was too involved in a quarrel with the older man, whom, now that Arthur looked closely, seemed to resemble the American. The Brit clicked his tongue in annoyance and finally resorted to his natural defense mechanism: glowering. He also shuffled closer to the fake plant next to him, attempting to look less conspicuous behind the giant sun flower.

"What are you doing?" A childish tone of voice spoke up from somewhere not too far from where he was standing.

Arthur detected the Eastern European accent, somewhat imagining the speaker to be a foreign youth with a cherubic face. When he turned to the speaker, indeed his guess was right on the mark, except that it did not include the prominent height and well-built body.

"I-I," The butler coughed on his hand as an attempt to mask his embarrassment at being caught. "I'm only...uh, inspecting the flower, sir. It's quite nice."

Suddenly the man's round face lit up. "You are right, comrade. Sunflowers are beautiful, da? I tried to plant a few in my house, but I've never seem to be able to grow them right."

Relieved that he had managed to steer the conversation away from him, Arthur smiled and replied, "Sunflowers are quite easy, really. The basic things to remember are to make sure that they have plenty of sun and that they aren't being planted too close to each other. They hate being crammed, but then again, don't we all?"

Afterwards, the discussion just flowed smoothly on the subject of gardening. It gave the two men an opportunity to exchange personal tips and stories. However, in the midst of it, Arthur's gentleman instinct kicked in and he immediately realized his mistake.

"Oh, forgive me, sir. Where is my manner? I forgot to introduce myself." He straightened his posture. One hand reached out to the man for a handshake. "My name is Arthur Kirkland, and I work under Mister Alfred F. Jones."

A mischievous look passed on the hulking male's expression when he heard of Alfred, but then it quickly vanished without a trace. The man accepted the offered hand, although unexpectedly he also pulled Arthur forward into a one arm embrace and leaned in. All of a sudden, cheek met cheek, thrice in alternate. "I am Ivan Braginski. It's wonderful to meet you, Arthur." He whispered near the butler's ear.

Arthur's first impulse was to tell Braginski to kindly fuck off from his personal space, but then his brain caught up and realized the gesture might be an Eastern European greeting custom. Yes, perhaps it was something similar to French greetings (although Francis always made sure to also squeeze his arse cheek, the perverted tosser). Not wanting to be rude, but clearly uncomfortable with the close proximity, Arthur firmly pushed against the other man's chest. "Excuse me, sir, but you're too close to my person—"

He didn't get to finish his polite protest, as he was suddenly grabbed on the shoulder and was forcefully pulled backwards. His back landed on something with a soft thud, and then a muscular arm snaked around his stomach, keeping him in place. Alfred's voice rang out angrily right behind him, "What the fuck did you think you're doing to Arthur, Braginski?"

"We're friends." Ivan simply answered while smiling innocently, although it did not reach his eyes. "And I really hate it when someone interrupts my conversation with a friend."

"Well, I really hate it when you lay your fat hands on him!"

"Well, your fat belly is probably poking poor Arthur's back right now." Ivan's smile didn't even twitch when he grasped one of Arthur's arms and pulled it to his direction. "You should really start using all those liposuction coupons I've sent you, comrade."

"Maybe you should use them to slim down that fat nose of yours!" Alfred tightened his hold on the Englishman.

"Your head is fat!" Ivan pulled Arthur hard to his direction.

"Well, your face!" Alfred spat as he copied the act to the opposite direction.

"Lads, please!" Arthur tried, half pleading for the sake of his sore muscles.

"Your мать is so fat—"

"Oh no, you didn't!"

Bugger it all.

"I WILL PERSONALLY ENSURE YOU TWO OVERGROWN CHILDREN WILL BECOME FAT ONCE I'VE PULLED OUT YOUR INTESTINES FROM YOUR ARSES AND STUFFED THEM DOWN YOUR THROATS IF YOU DON'T SHUT YOUR HOLES AND LET ME GO THIS INSTANT!"

The two men stopped what they were doing, and unfortunately, so were hundreds of people in the same room. Arthur blinked at the sudden silence, and then promptly turning red when he realized he was the object of everybody's attention.

Cranking up all the gears in his brain, Arthur struggled free from the two imbeciles' grasp. He straightened his jacket, let out a fake cough, and gave a flourish bow to the crowd. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, was a preview of an upcoming charity drama performance that will be held and performed by both Mr. Jones and Mr. Braginski. Please look forward to it in the future."

The crowd exploded in thunderous hand claps and excited whispers. There was also a particular out loud question from somewhere among the sea of people ("Fuck! Am I drunk or did he really say Al and Ivan are gonna work together? Mein Gott, I need to record that just in case someone actually killed somebody this time.") that pretty much summed up everyone's opinions.

Then a feminine voice shouted in a very hopeful tone, "Will there be a hot gay threesome in the show?"

Never before in his life was Arthur this certain that the rich were absolutely barmy.

TBC

Russian Translation:

Мать: Mom

A/N: So Hexa's idea is "a party and all the ceo and family are there, other ones have butlers too and maybe one character would want to get arthur as their butler", but I changed it a bit to Ivan just wanted to mess with Al a little. I hope you don't mind xD And I think I told someone I might do a drunk scene, but that'll be in the next chapter ;) So yeah, if you guys still have ideas and stuff, don't hesitate to send it my way.

AGAIN, THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO IS STILL STICKING WITH THIS RIDICULOUS STORY! C'MERE AND LET ME LOVE YOU! (/ ;A;)/