Arthur flinched as something moved through his hair, sending a small streak of panic down his spine. What if it was some kind of wild animal that had some how snuck into his apartment and was now going to eat him! What ever was moving through his hair changed course, and moved so that it was cupping his face, wait… Arthur's eyes flew open to see another man very close to him, his arm extended in front of him, his hand cupping his cheek.

"Francis." He hissed, rolling over so that his back was facing the other man. The hand trailed down his back and finally left his body altogether.

"Good morning to you too, mon cher." Francis smirked as he lit up a cigarette next to Arthur's bed and blew out a large puff of smoke. Arthur growled and turned back to face him, sitting up and grabbing the fag from his friends mouth, taking it and inhaling the damaging chemicals. He had promised to give up smoking but going cold turkey wouldn't help him very much. He wasn't strong enough for such an extreme method of quitting.

Francis let Arthur finish the smoke, not even complaining about how expensive the kind he liked was, or that Arthur hadn't asked. He sat by the bed and waited patiently, which made Arthur curious. That didn't stop him taking his time to enjoy the smoke, as Francis always picked the best ones. With one final puff, he quelled the cigarette in his ashtray, which Francis had placed beside him and turned to look at his friend.

"Why aren't you talking- are you in trouble, am I?" He frowned when Francis simply smiled and looked away. "Come on, answer me twat!"

"It seemed I was worried but for no good reason, you seem to be ok." Francis chuckled, sweeping a few strands of hair out of Arthur's face. Arthur frowned harder and swiped at his hand.

"What do you mean worried? Of course I'm ok, I was with a client." He stated as he stood. His stomach was starting to rumble, which meant it was time to eat. Maybe he would drink some tea also. Francis stood slower then he and followed after him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter.

"I mean you disappeared for a whole day. Usually you're back the next morning after a night with… A client as you so eloquently put it, but you didn't come home till late last night. I was worried something might have happened to you." Francis admitted and sighed. Arthur rolled his eyes as he set the kettle on and pulled out one of the tea bags from the box. He turned back to his friend with a raised eyebrow.

Francis was standing opposite him, dressed in his usual black jeans and slightly open black dress shirt. He worked as a late night bar tender, yet Arthur was surprised that he stuck around in this dodgy neighbourhood. Then he had found out about Francis' double life style.

Even with the well paying job the Frenchman dealt drugs. He had never once taken them, nor did he make them but he did get a cut from what he sold. It was easier for him to live in this neighbourhood, as there were more people willing to buy the drugs then if he moved into a more upstart apartment. Arthur would never say it out loud, but he was glad Francis was there. He was one of the only people Arthur trusted enough that he had given the Frenchman a key to his apartment for emergencies. Apparently, not coming home for a night day counted as an emergency.

"They let me sleep in all day… I didn't wake up till six or so." Arthur replied crossing his arms over his chest and ignoring the worried look on his friends face. "I got paid and they didn't make me do anything weird, just in case you're wondering." This earned him a slightly embarrassed look from the older man.

"I know you can handle your self… But every time you get into someone's car how can you be sure you'll ever come back?"

Arthur stiffened. He knew that was the risk, in fact, he knew people who had disappeared after they got into someone's car. He even knew a woman who had been found dead in the car she had gotten into the night before. But it was a work hazard, something he couldn't avoid. Most of the time he was a pretty good judger of character but Alfred seemed to have thrown off his sense.

"I know the risks." He muttered, feeling a little bitter as thoughts of Alfred crept into his mind. "But it's not like I have much of a choice. It's the same as an astronaut. How do they know their spaceship won't explode? Or a race car driver, they could easily get into a crash and die." They weren't good arguments, honestly; at least they were respectable professions.

"Do you really?" Francis countered, catching him off guard. "I've seen you come home with bruises and even bloodied. There are some sick people out there Arthur, who will take advantage of you and might even kill you." Arthur had had enough.

"Yeah? Isn't that what you do? Giving people shitty drugs and taking their money is taking advantage of them! I bet some of those people you've sold it to have died so wouldn't that make you a murderer?" Arthur couldn't pretend that he didn't see the hurt in Francis' eyes, as he pointed out the other man's flaws. Well, it was Francis' own fault for pointing out his.

Arthur watched without remorse as Francis stormed from his apartment, the door slammed hard against the wood as he left. It was only after the kettle started to scream at him and the water was boiling did he start to feel guilty. Francis meant well, he really did and he only said those things to try and help Arthur; but stubborn man that he was, Arthur had to retaliate.

He poured the hot water into the porcelain cup and watched as the tea began to seep through the bag. He probably stared at the cup for about ten minutes before he moved into action and went after Francis.

The Frenchman's apartment was directly across from his own, so it was no wonder he was looking out for Arthur. He stepped over in front of the door and lifted his fist, knocking twice and then waiting for an answer. None came.

"… Francis? … Francis are you there? … I'm sorry, I didn't mean it…" Arthur leaned in so that his forehead was resting against the door, his eyes down and watching for a shadow through the crack at the bottom of the door. When none came he sighed and returned to his home. He knew what he could do, but he would have to find that bakery again first.

Two days of wandering around the suburbs during the day and Arthur finally managed to locate the small bakery, hiding in a group of shops about half a days walk from his apartment. The lady who owned it was small, with shoulder length blonde hair and a soft cheeky expression. She wore a pale green dress that seemed to puff out slightly at her hips, like a dress from the sixties.

She greeted Arthur warily, though he was used to the cold welcome. He often looked quite a horrible sight.

"How may I 'elp you sir?" She asked. At least she could feign politeness. Arthur smiled back at her, in what he hoped made him appear more earnest.

"Um, I-I was wondering if you had any of those pastries with the custard and chocolate?" His eyes made a sweep of the various cakes on display, but he couldn't quite see the one he wanted. The lady's face contorted as she looked to the ceiling in thought.

"You wouldn't happen to mean éclair's would you?" She asked, turning back to look at him.

"They are the long ones with custard and chocolate?"

"Yep!" She smiled brightly and fished around under the counter for a box. She quickly located the éclair's and pulled one out, placing it neatly in the box and then into a paper bag. "Will that be all?" Arthur nodded and licked his lips as the smell of such good food was starting to get to him, but he couldn't waste any more money than he was about to.

He paid the girl the money and took back the change, then left with a 'thank you' and he was back on his way to Francis's.

When he arrived at the apartments, he knocked on Francis' door again and waited for a response. And just like last time no one answered. Arthur looked up and down the corridor twice before leaving the pastry on the floor by the door.

"I, Francis? I got you something… I'm leaving it here ok?" He then returned to his apartment and closed the door. He would never let any one know that he sat by his door for four hours, patiently waiting until the door across from his opened and closed; or that he made sure to check that the pastry had been taken... It had.

It had been a week since Arthur and Francis had last spoken, and over two weeks since he had seen Alfred. Every time he went out, for work or otherwise, deep down he hoped that he would somehow run into Alfred, or that the man would come back for him. He was like a rare treasure among people and Arthur had taken a glimpse of and even touched, such a treasure but now it was gone.

As he stepped out onto the street from a fellow prostitutes home, the same desire for Alfred arose but he suppressed it. It had been a one-time thing, so he had to learn to let him go. A breeze playfully tugged at his clothes as he stepped out into the cold night. He was wearing almost the same clothes, except tonight; instead of a fishnet shirt, he was wearing a white singlet with the words 'Fuck Me' across the middle. The singlet was practically see-through, so it worked the same way as the fish net top, but he still felt more covered. Though because he had borrowed the singlet, he had to give up his jacket for the night to the other prostitute as a trade, which meant that Arthur was now wandering about the streets in a singlet, shorts and boots. To be blunt, he was showing off a lot of skin.

As he waited on his usual corner, his hand unconsciously went to his right cheek. The skin was discoloured and poorly applied foundation was being used to cover it. The night before he had had a particularly wild client who had been a bit too rough with him. The bruise was small but the punch had still hurt. Arthur bit his lip and clenched his hand into a fist against his skin. If this bruise lost him clients then he was going to be pissed. Especially when the guy had only paid him fifty-five dollars! Cheapskate had threatened to tell the police when Arthur said that fifty-five dollars for that kind of behaviour wasn't enough!

It was nearing three fifty am now and Arthur could feel his eye lids start to droop, a sure sign that it was almost time to go home. Giving up smoking was harder than he thought and his body was starting to hate him for it. At least he smelt better…

The purr of an engine caught his eyes however; letting him know that he had one more chance to make some money that night. He turned to the car, ready to strike a pose as he heard the engine start to slow, but the car shocked him, as he never thought he would see it again.

The sleek, black car made its second appearance on the distasteful and macabre street, slowing to a stop right beside Arthur. As it did last time, the car door opened to reveal the plush interior. Arthur tentatively stepped over and peered into the luxury car. Alfred sat in the driver's seat, calm and, it may have been the light in the middle of the car, but Arthur swore he saw the man's eyes sparkle.

Now sure, and unable to hide his delight, Arthur sat down on the passenger seat, closed the door and buckled him self in. Alfred drove off, navigating through the streets as though he had done this many times.

Arthur watched Alfred out of the corner of his eye, taking in the slightly worn appearance of the man despite his happy demeanour. He was dressed nicely today again, but it was cleaner than the first time Arthur had seen him in his work clothes, as though he had ironed and pressed them just before coming out to find him. His eyes drifted up to look at his face. It looked smooth, but it was dark and the shadows on his face may have been deceiving him. He wore his glasses low on his nose, giving Arthur the impression that he only wore them for reading. His eyes once again looked dark blue in the darkness and Arthur found himself missing how pale, yet bright they looked normally. The eye he was checking out turned swivelled to look at him.

Blushing, Arthur quickly turned his entire head and looked out the window to hide his embarrassment. Outside was starting to look less and less familiar, which meant that they were reaching Alfred's home. He heard the man clear his voice beside him and reluctantly turned his head back a little.

"H-how are you?" Alfred inquired, his shoulders tense as he waited for an answer. Arthur's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as soon as the words left Alfred's mouth. When was the last time some one had queried about his wellbeing?

"I… I am well." He left it at that and turned a little more towards Alfred. "A-and you?"

"Can't complain," Alfred answered, some of the tension leaving his shoulders at Arthur's answer. "I just finished presenting a project at work today so I can finally relax!"

It must have been the way Alfred spoke, but this time, he gave the impression of being more carefree. Then again, they didn't speak much last time they interacted, so Arthur really couldn't be absolutely sure of the man's personality just yet.

"That's… Good." Arthur decided to try and keep the conversation going. He liked this new, talkative Alfred. "What was the project on?" Alfred launched into, what Arthur would have described as, a full on lecture about a presentation he had to give to a different company about the benefits of merging with the company he worked for. By the end of it he was fairly certain that they would be merging, but without the papers signed, he could not be sure. Arthur nodded along, not quite understanding all that was being said, but he found it interesting all the same. Just hearing about Alfred's day was simply fascinating to him.

By the time Alfred finished explaining about his presentation, they reached his home (mansion!) and they were now inside it. The night went almost the same as last time. Alfred picked out the pyjamas that he had given Arthur last time, handed them to him and then gave him a towel. Arthur was not about to turn down another shower, and gratefully took the towel and clothing, before locking himself in the bathroom and stripping.

After a week and a half of cold showers, the hot water felt amazing on his skin. He grabbed the soap and cleaned himself, not forgetting behind his ears or between his legs, then washed his hair, liking how this time it seemed to glow. After his shower, Arthur dried himself, appreciating the shower much more this time around, and put on the pyjamas that felt unnaturally soft and warm.

When he opened the door, Alfred was waiting on the bed, towel on his lap. He looked up as Arthur opened the door and smiled in a kind of dopey way.

"Finished I take it?" He said as he stood, though it was kind of obvious he had. "I got a new magazine, if you're interested." Arthur only nodded as he watched Alfred walk over to the bathroom and close the door.

Even with the proposition of a 'new magazine' Arthur found he was more than content to look at the photos on the wall, which had increased by three.

The first new picture was one of the girl again. She was smiling broadly, the smile reminded Arthur somewhat of Alfred's grin, but hers was more delicate. She was sitting on the porch of a large house but it held no qualities of luxury or wealth as this house did. It looked simple; wooden boards covered it, all painted white. In the corner she was standing in however, was a large yellow flower painted onto the wood. When he looked closer, Arthur realised that she had yellow paint on her clothing and a paintbrush in her left hand, which meant that she had just painted the flower.

In the next photo Arthur became a little confused. It looked as thought part of the photo had been cut off as the man who resembled Alfred stood on the right, the girl in the middle and, although it wasn't all there, a hand that was distinctively a woman's hand sat on the girls shoulder, but there was no body to speak of. It was painfully obvious that the woman, who ever she was, had been cut out of the picture for a reason; probably a very bad one. Upon closer inspection, the girl looked slightly different. Her eyes seemed almost hollow, with dark rings under them indicating lack of sleep. Even the man, whom Arthur assumed was her father, appeared more exhausted the closer he looked. The cheerfulness of the photo mislead the viewer to believe that they were very happy, but Arthur's mind began to comprehend the melancholy undertones of the photo, even if they hadn't meant to show it.

The third and last photo was of someone new. She looked like a kind older lady with soft blue eyes and the same dirty blonde hair that Alfred and the other man shared. It fell to just below her shoulders and was hidden underneath a big sun hat. She looked thin, unhealthily so, making the dress she was wearing, while a lovely colour and design, hang off her frame in a way that it wasn't supposed to. She stood strong though, and even in the photo, Arthur could see similarities between her and Alfred. 'This must be his mother.' Arthur decided, lightly touching the picture frame with his fingertips.

The door clicked behind him and Arthur smiled up at him as Alfred stepped through the door, face slightly flush and water clinging to his hair. Alfred looked from him to the photos that he was standing next to, pausing as though thinking for a moment before continuing over to the bed.

"Are you curious?" He asked. Arthur blushed and nodded, moving out the way as Alfred put his glasses on the bedside table. "That woman," He gave a small nod of his head in the direction of the last photo. "Is my mum." Arthur made a small 'ah' sound. So, he had been right.

"The guy who looks like me is my twin, Matthew and the girl is his daughter, Mathilde."

"They are good photos." Arthur said, looking over them once more. Alfred sent him a lopsided smirk and turned away from the photos.

"Thanks, I took them… Well except for that one with me in it, mum took that." Arthur nodded again and turned around as well, moving to the opposite side of the bed. Alfred turned off the lights as Arthur made himself comfortable under the covers; loving the feeling of warmth and invulnerability it gave him. Alfred joined him moments later, snuggling under the covers and moving over to his side.

Arthur turned so that they were facing each other, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dark. A warm arm wormed its way around his waist, puling him closer so that he could feel the body heat radiating off Alfred's skin. Not that Arthur minded, in fact, he only wanted to be closer to this man. His breath came out steady, in his opinion, even when he could feel Alfred's own breath above him. He would handle this with dignity.

The first kiss was placed against his temple, the second his nose and the third his lips. The soft, yet slightly chapped lips pressed against Arthur's but they did not push him for more. The pure and innocent kisses kept coming as Alfred continued around his face, before returning to his lips though this time Arthur lightly kissed back. He was frightened that just by pure instinct from his work, he might push Alfred too far and ruin the gentle atmosphere, the feeling of tender loving care that appeared when ever Arthur lay with Alfred. Even the first time he had felt it, like nothing else he had ever encountered.

He felt Alfred hesitate when he kissed him back, but the uncertainty swiftly passed and he kissed back just as affectionately, if not more. 'This is something I've wanted more then anything I've ever had before.' Arthur thought as the sentimental kisses lulled him into a state of languidness till he once again fell asleep in Alfred's warm arms.

The late afternoon sun shone harshly through the windows and directly into Arthur's eyes, causing him to groan and roll over. It was then that his mind began to become aware of his surroundings.

It appeared that the same situation had happed again and he had woken up late in Alfred's bed, while the other man had vanished off to work. Arthur lazily looked over at the clock that read five twenty-three pm. He had woken up somewhat earlier than last time, but only by an hour. The space beside him felt cold and empty and he couldn't help but feel disappointed that he couldn't wake up with Alfred still holding him as he had last night. He could still feel the muscular arm holding him tight, like he was the most important person in the world. He missed that feeling.

Arthur, following the routine that seemed to be appearing, wandered drowsily into the kitchen to find a similar note to last time.

'Dear Arthur,

Thank you for keeping me company and I'm sorry I will probably not be there when you wake up.

I left your money on your clothes again and there is Sheppard's pie in the fridge. Help yourself!

Alfred.'

Arthur eagerly opened the fridge and was delighted to see one of his all-time favourite meals sitting on a plate with the 'eat me' note on top. It felt like an eternity for the microwave to cook it and even before the smell reached him, Arthur found himself salivating just at the mere thought of being able to eat Sheppard's pie again. When the microwave finally beeped, Arthur didn't waste time taking it out and digging into the hot meal.

His eyes watered as he ate too much and it was too hot for his mouth. He was glad Alfred wasn't there at that moment so he wouldn't see the Brit fanning his open mouth in an attempt to cool the food in his mouth down. Apart from burning his mouth slightly, Arthur thoroughly enjoyed the pie and even went as far as to lick the plate clean. It was worth every lick to make sure he didn't miss a single crumb.

By the time Arthur finished, it was 5:33 pm and he was reluctant to leave the nicely furnished house without saying good-bye to Alfred, also, he wasn't entirely sure how to get back to his apartment from here. He placed the clean plate in the steel sink with a loud clank, before deciding to look around the house. He wouldn't touch anything, just look. He was not a thief, no way.

As he wandered, he noticed the rest of the house was as lifeless as the kitchen, bedroom and hallway. The only thing that seemed to give the house any personal flavour were a series of amazing photos that littered the walls, ranging from flowers and trees to people having fun, mainly the three people that Arthur had seen in Alfred's bedroom. He lazily ran a hand across a tabletop and pulled it away in disgust to find it absolutely covered in dust. He may be living in one of the most dingy apartments around, but he had at least kept his rooms clean… Ish.

Without any reservations, Arthur began his search for a closet and in the closet in found a vacuum, dustpan and brush and several different cleaning sprays. The bottles were full to the brim, suggesting that Alfred had never used them.

He commenced with the cleaning by dusting, wiping and down all the surfaces, making sure that after they were dusted, he cleaned them with a 'lemon fresh' spray for shine and smell. With that first task done, he went about vacuuming, making sure to get everywhere, even under the couches neat freak that he was.

With his mind occupied in his cleaning task, he didn't hear the front door open above the noise of the vacuum cleaner. At least, not until he heard voices.

Alfred stood in the opening of the living room and beside him stood a very similar man. Arthur paused, turning off the vacuum, a growing sense of dread developing in his stomach. Alfred didn't look worried but more, confused, as he eyed up the vacuum cleaner in his hands. However, the man standing beside him, looked exactly like Mathew from the photos.

Mathew's tired appearance hadn't changed just because he was here in person; in fact, he looked a lot worse than in the photos. His clothes looked simple in comparison to Alfred's. A red, hooded jacket seemed to cover most of him, making him look like a child. He wore faded blue jeans on his legs and plain black sneakers on his feet. His hair, while the same colour as Alfred's appeared to be duller. Ha gazed at Arthur, with a mixture of confusion and disgust.

"I-I'm paying you back for the Sheppard's pie… It's… Just manors r-really." Arthur answered meekly, feeling more and more nervous under the twins pressing gaze. Mathew turned to Alfred and gave him a long, hard look.

"I, uh, A-Arthur come here would you?" Arthur leant the vacuum against the wall and walked over, Mathew's violet eyes followed him all the way. Alfred slipped his hands around Arthur's shoulder's and squeezed them, smiling as he did so. "Mattie, this is Arthur, Arthur, this is Mathew."

"P-please to meet you I'm sure." Arthur panicked and stuck out his hand for the other to shake. Mathew wasn't as easy going as his brother and took a while before lifting his hand to meet Arthur's.

"Like wise." He answered with what sounded like a strained voice; Arthur was sure that he did not meant it. Alfred laughed loudly; putting on a personality that Arthur had only briefly glanced when he first came back to the man's house.

"Well, I'll take Arthur home now kay? Mattie just put your stuff in the spare room." Mathew nodded and picked up two small bags that Arthur hadn't noticed, while Arthur's hand was grabbed and he was tugged along, back to Alfred's room so he could change.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled once they were alone, feeling that maybe he should have left earlier. Alfred had been rubbing his temples between his fingers while, Arthur spoke and once he finished he turned back to the prostitute.

"No, no, seriously don't worry about it, Mattie, he's just… He's just against relationships of any kind." He said, running his fingers through his hair. Arthur blinked, eyes widening at the comment.

"R-relationship? Is that what you called it?" He felt stunned but at the same time, he felt happy. That was what he wanted yes? A relationship with Alfred, a kind and gentle man, so he could take him away from his shattered life?

"I called us… 'Fuck buddies' so he wouldn't get suspicious about your real job."

The feeling of happiness dropped like a stone in Arthur's stomach, at that connotation but he smiled anyways, even nodding his head to mask his true feelings.

"Yes, yes of course, that's a reasonable idea…" He replied, leaving Alfred to go change into his street clothes in the bathroom.

While he changed he glanced at himself in the mirror. The person he saw staring back at him with the lifeless and dull green eyes, scrawny figure and who looked like even though he had showered the night before, needed at last ten more just to get the dirt out of his skin. He did not want to be this person any more. He lightly touched the bruise on his cheek which was at it's peak of colour, and he wondered for a moment what Mathew thought when he saw it.

He put the money in his pocket, same amount, and walked out of the bathroom feeling positively miserable about his self. Alfred had been sitting on his bed, a pullover sweatshirt with the letters 'U.S.A' printed in bold letters across them, sat on his lap. When Arthur emerged from changing, the sweatshirt was given to him. He did not need an explanation on why he was to wear it. If they were to keep Alfred's story of them being fuck buddies then he couldn't be seen in his 'work clothes'.

Mathew wasn't around by the time Arthur was ready to go, so Alfred yelled 'see you later!' loudly through the halls of the now not-so-empty house. They hopped into his car and were driving off back to Arthur's home, just as they had over a week ago. It was almost the same quiet atmosphere, tainted with the sudden awkwardness of being seen in Alfred's house by his brother. He curled and uncurled his fingers as he sat next to Alfred, the man whom he was becoming too attached to and wished with all his heart that the car ride would never end.

...

A/N:

Sorry! I meant to get this up yesterday but then I got called into work and I have a driving assessment today so I needed sleep.

Hope you like! : D

R&R~