A/N: We had assignments and then xmas break and new years and then exams and wow now I'm back for second semester already and yeah. Flies to the sun.

Forever thanks to my jimmy maker, rollofthepenguins. Yeah.

Pairings in this chappie: FR/UK, JP/?

"You. Bitch."

It was pretty much the only thing Arthur heard before a huffy Feliks plops himself onto the seat across from him without so much of a greeting. Ignoring the small wave from Kiku and the welcoming hoot from Gilbert, Feliks stared down at Arthur. After a beat of silence, he clicked his tongue and scowled. "Well, aren't you mature," he grumbled, reaching over for one of the plates of skewered morsels (pintxos, Kiku said they were called) and dragging it close to him. "I mean, like, I know it's not any of my business but you know it's not exactly that difficult to give a signal boost or something. I mean, like, if this is how you value our friendship…"

"Whoa, whoa, hang on. Stop right there," Arthur cuts in, his brow arching when Feliks's bottom lip protrudes out even more. "Firstly, a simple hello would be nice instead of 'bitch'. And secondly, as much as I understand how easy it is for you to fall under work related stress but would you please stop talking and tell me just what exactly are you on about?" he asked, exchanging a questioning look with Kiku, who looked rather confused himself.

"Oh you very well know what it is I am referring to," said Feliks, flicking his hair. "Like, were you ever going to tell me? Ugh, I can't believe you. I am like your absolute bestest of all best friends."

Gilbert snorted at this and Kiku opened his mouth to speak.

"Uh-uh-uh!" Feliks tutted. "He is the bitchest bitch and you know that. Like, I can't believe he even had the nerve. We are like his family, you know? Like, oh my god. And to think we of all people are not informed of this. Like, so totally rude."

Arthur looked on in bafflement. "What?"

"Jesus, cut the crap and admit that you like to suck the cock now, ja?" Gilbert interjected as he lewdly sucked on a skewered meatball.

Sputtering, Arthur flushed at the tactless remark.

"Giru!" gasped Kiku, slipping into an accent for the first time.

Gilbert shrugged. "What, so you think after two months nobody noticed you've been fucking that French boss of yours? Heh. Didn't think you'd actually have the balls to go after him but hey. Ich gratuliere!" he congratulated with wide grin and chugged his beer in one go.

"What? Two months and he's French!?" Feliks screeched, looking utterly scandalised. "Oh. My. God. Arthur Kirkland, you really are, like, the most self-centred bitch in the universe. I am totally hurt by all of this. You and I are so over. Like, Finito. Friendship over."

"What? No, come on now, Feliks. It isn't like that at all," Arthur attempted to reason, his voice laced with exasperation. He ran his fingers through his hair, only to grimace at the tangles they were caught in. "Of course I was going to – wait, no, hang on, I thought only Kiku knew about this!" Arthur turned to Kiku, ignoring the melodramatic wail from Feliks (He was rather affronted by the fact that Kiku was the first to know – "He's always the first to know! What, is it because he's Asian!?"). Upon meeting the Japanese man's eyes however, he was a little surprised to see Kiku return a rueful look to him. And an apologetic bob of his head.

"I'm sorry Arthur, but Gil was…I'm very sorry but when you had telephoned me that day he was in the same room as I and he had listened to our conversation so I'm afraid…" Kiku stopped in mid-sentence, his shoulders sagging. Upon acquiring this information, Arthur cast an accusing look to the Prussian, who simply smirked back.

"What he knows, I know," Gilbert stated, tapping his temple. He then fished out his phone and aimed the lens towards him. "Smile, asshole. You're gonna be famous shit on my blog."

"Fuck you," Arthur snarled. There were two snapshots. He sighed in defeat. "Whatever. I suppose there's no point of sweeping shit under the carpet since it will still reek."

"Ugh, hello," Feliks gesticulated to the pintxos with a fervent wave of his hand. "Food. Eating. Honestly!"

"Ah, sorry, please excuse me. I'm very sorry," Kiku quickly apologised.

"Oh no no no! Not you, sugarplum! Oh my god, you are, like, so adorbs! Like, I can just pop you in my bag like a Chihuahua! Oh my god, did you get a haircut because you look super cute…oh you did? Oh you bitch…"

"Again, I apologise."

"Oh, stop that," Feliks gushed. "I'm not talking about you Kiki – you are, like, too precious I can't even! - I'm talking about bitch queen Arthur here. He is so crass, like it's totally ungentlemanly! Like, did that Frenchman rub off on you or something or what?"

"Ceh, I bet ya he's not rubbing at all. Fucking Frenchy probably always cums all over his face," Gilbert commented offhandedly and it caused Kiku to actually spit out his drink.

"Gilbert!" Feliks reprimanded. He had miraculously procured a handkerchief out of god knows where and quickly patted the front of Kiku's shirt (who seemed reluctant but caved in to the man's incessant actions). "Oh don't listen to that creep, he's always so unpleasant isn't he?"

"Oi I'm just stating the truth. Right, Keeks? See, he don't even need to say anything. Come on, lighten up, Brit! It's good that you're kinda feelin' awesome and drowned up in that love shit. Figured this is probably the most stable relationship you're in by far."

"You know, I cannot believe I'm going to say this but like, for once, I actually think Gilbert is right," agreed Feliks.

"Oh come off it," Arthur rolled his eyes.

"No, really! Now that I think about it, you've been, like, super happy lately and we are totally happy for you. I mean, like, after all this time, I can't believe you're actually gay! Oh my gosh, this is so exciting! So when are you going to introduce this beau of yours to us? He is gorgeous right? Oh the French always are."

"What? No! I'm not gay," Arthur cried. It suddenly dawned upon him how strange those words sounded coming out of his mouth. He mulled over the words of his friends. Him? Happy? Really? Apart from feeling rejuvenated from a wholly satisfying round of sex (okay, several rounds), he couldn't really peg it down as absolute happiness now could he? Office romps don't exactly last long after all (and that was what it all was – a romp). He reached for a cigarette and lit it because fuck his resolution, tonight was an exception. "Look," he began through a puff of smoke. "We aren't even together so there's no reason for you lot to get excited."

Gilbert made a disdainful sound and he reached over the table to help himself to a cigarette. He took no note of the disapproving look Arthur shot him and turned his head to offer Kiku a stick. The Japanese man declined. Shrugging in compliance, Gilbert then reached over and gave rough pat to Kiku's head, ruffling his hair. Arthur could not help but feel a little sorry for the man. It must have been an absolute bitch to deal with Gilbert for the last, what, fifteen years or something. God, that was a long time. Arthur had often really wondered how they were even best friends to begin with. But then again, this was Gilbert and Kiku. No one could really understand the depth of their bond, himself included. Their little thing was one of those weird co-dependent friendships which you could not dissect no matter how much you tried.

"What? Not together?" Feliks visibly deflates at the news. "Oh. My. God. Arthur Kirkland, are you telling me you've been having sex with your boss to get a promotion? You sneaky little bitch."

"No, that's not it at all," replied Arthur exasperatedly. "We're both not gay and we're just shagging alright? That's all."

"Fuck buddies," offered Gilbert.

Arthur glared at him. "That's a rather crude way of putting it but yes, I reckon only you would call it that."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. So was his dong huge or what?"

"Gilbert Beilschmidt!" screeched Feliks.

"What? Don't you tell me you don't wanna know too," Gilbert crooned with a smirk before regarding Kiku. "Whaddya say, eh? You reckon it's awesome and huge, babe?"

"I don't think that is wise to answer," said Kiku pensively.

"Huge, eh? Thought so."

"Bugger off," hissed Arthur.

"Oh my god. Shut up. Are you saying it is?" Feliks gasped, lowering his drink. When Arthur made no inclination to answer, he squealed all wide-eyed. "Oh my god! Shut up!"

"I didn't say anything," grumbled Arthur as he took a puff of his cigarette.

"Oh. My. God. You have to tell me. Everything. Right now."

"What? No."

"No?"

"No!"

"Arthur."

"No, I bloody don't. You can't make me."

"Arthur."

"Fuck you."

"Arthur Reginald Kirkland!"

Gilbert, after sidling up next to Kiku and taking a picture of themselves, nearly dropped his phone. His brows shot up to his hairline. "The fuck…"

"Oya." There was a ghost of smile on Kiku's lips though he hid it behind his sleeve.

Glowering, Arthur snapped his cigarette in half. "I hate you."

Feliks reached over and gave his cheek an affectionate pinch. "Kocham ciẹ. Now spill."

"A weekend away."

Francis stood in front of the television and Arthur made a sound of protest at this as he glared at him. "Hello. Hi. Yes, I see you. Mr. Bonnefoy, would you ever be so kind to please move your derriere aside? I'm watching–" He leaned to the side to peer around the man's body. "Oh great! Wonderful! That was the penalty shot," he huffed, throwing his hands up as he leant back against the cushions of his sofa in disgruntlement. "And that's full time! Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! I've just missed the golden moment of the game and it's all because you had to parade around all half-naked with your stupid chest hair and that." He waved his hand around in frustration.

"That? Oh la la. Come now, mon petit chou. Why so cold? Have we not agreed that you will address me as Francis at home? And about the game, I'm sorry but I will make it up to you," Francis replied as he turned off the television.

"Oh really? I hardly doubt you could rewind time," Arthur replied dryly. He pursed his lips in disappointment. "I thought you'd agreed not to call me broccoli anymore."

That earned a laugh from Francis. "Cabbage, darling. I don't remember you mentioning anything about that. Are you certain that it wasn't when we were having sex? You know how I get distracted by your beautiful body." He chuckled when Arthur made an undignified sound. "How about I take you to Paris?" he then asked almost offhandedly and there was a hopeful look on his face.

Arthur blinked owlishly. "…excuse me?"

"Paris. La Ville-Lumière. Will you come?" Francis asked, smiling sweetly. "Oh, you have a little bit of the cereal." He sat on his haunches and from his position in between Arthur's legs, he leaned in and swept the crumbs off the corner of Arthur's mouth.

"…Merci."

"De rien."

A comfortable silence fell upon them as they simply sat across each other.

Within the two months of sort of seeing each other (and having a lot of ridiculously good sex – honestly, who would have thought bumming could be that enjoyable), Arthur had quickly come to learn a few things about Francis Bonnefoy. For one thing, regardless of being quite the passionate lover, he was surprisingly quite an early riser and Arthur would usually find himself waking up to the sight of Francis all dressed yet still lying in bed. He had asked him why this was so and Francis simply stated that he liked to watch him sleep.

Another thing he noticed was that Francis liked to sleep nude. Though this wasn't a big deal, Arthur had initially found it rather awkward to sleep next to his boss whenever he stayed the night, particularly during the nights when they didn't have sex. It didn't bother him so much now, especially since he too had begun to sleep nude just so he could greedily catch the warmth which radiated from the man's body. It wasn't as if he liked Francis's embrace or the feel of his skin against his own. His apartment block just had crappy central heating.

A small sigh escaped Arthur's lips as Francis looped his arm around his leg and drew it close to him.

There was something unmistakably erotic about watching Francis, he realised, especially now when he's sitting comfortably without his shirt on in spite of how cold it was. It was during times like this did Arthur realise he would notice the little things. The goosebumps which rose across his skin, the soft golden hair which stood on its end, the natural masculine scent which wafted from that one point on his neck. God, Francis Bonnefoy was such a ridiculously attractive human being. It should be criminal.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

"Why are you half-naked?" asked Arthur distractedly as he finally met Francis's eyes the moment he realised he had been staring at the prominent hickey on his collarbone. Christ, did he really give a fucking lovebite to his boss?

"You do not like me half-naked?"

Arthur frowned. "You answered me with another question. You can't do that."

"As did you."

"Yeah, well, it's nothing."

"Then it's nothing for myself as well." Francis gave him a cheeky smile. "I do not think you realise that you are also in the same position as I am."

Arthur looked down at himself. "What, this? This is normal."

Francis chuckled. "Eating cereal after sex?"

"No. Watching telly while eating cereal from the box in boxers is," Arthur corrected. "You, wearing no underwear under your designer trousers and lounging around in my shitty apartment, isn't."

Francis perched his chin on Arthur's knee. "Oh? So my actions are uncommon?" he murmured, reaching over to trace his fingers across the tattoo Arthur had on his inner thigh.

"Mm, extensively," replied Arthur, dropping his gaze to where Francis's hand was. "What are you doing?"

"I am asking you to come with me to Paris." A kiss was pressed to the tattoo and Arthur did his best to suppress the shudder which ran down his spine. "Will you come? It's a beautiful place." He placed another kiss.

"For business?"

"For leisure."

"No thank you."

Francis paused and he glanced up inquiringly. "You do not like Paris? We can go to Nice. It's warmer there," he offered.

"No, I meant I don't want to go," Arthur said, frowning disapprovingly. When Francis fell quiet, he flushed a little. "I just don't want to, alright?"

"If it is about money, you do not need to worry. I will-"

"No, I can't let you do that."

"Why not?"

"Because you can't."

"I cannot spend money for my lover?"

Arthur snapped his mouth shut and he looked at the man in astonishment, blinking slowly. He calculated his words, opening his mouth to speak but found himself quickly faltering when the weight of Francis's sank in.

Lover.

He called him his lover.

Something shifted in the air and they were left staring at each other. Francis must have noticed the stricken look which had dawned on Arthur's face because he suddenly reached up and caressed his brow fondly.

"I want to spoil you," he admitted.

"You're ridiculous," Arthur stated weakly, his voice coming out as a harsh whisper. "We aren't…" he trailed off just as Francis leaned in and pressed a kiss which stole his breath.

"Aren't?"

"A friend of mine said we're fuck buddies. Because that's what we are, isn't it?"

"No."

"No?"

"No. We're lovers."

"Please stop saying that."

"No," Francis's lips quirked into a mirthful little smile. "I will keep saying it until you have accepted this fact." He resumed kissing his way up Arthur's thigh. "We share something beautiful, you think not?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Indeed," he grunted.

"Oh, did you just roll your eyes at me?"

"Yes, I did. Why?"

"You do know what happens when you roll your eyes at me, yes?"

Arthur froze. "Oh. God. No. You did not just…no." He pulled his legs up to his chest, much to Francis's disappointment, and stared down at him in horror. "I can't believe you just…you've read that shitload of rubbish?"

"Read what?" asked Francis, feigning innocence.

"Please tell me you did not get your inspirations from there. Please. I beg you."

"If I answered yes?"

"I will be pissed. I will be severely disappointed at your poor taste in literature. And then I will ask you to leave," said Arthur gravely.

"So you will throw your own superior out for indulging in the guilty pleasure of reading erotic books?"

"Poorly written erotica, yes. It's a justified action."

"Hm. Interesting. And if I answered no?"

Arthur paused for a thought. "I will still like you less."

Francis beamed. "Ah, so you do admit that you like me. Well, that makes me very happy."

"I - what? I-I never-" stuttered Arthur, flabbergasted. He gave a light shove to Francis's shoulder, only to growl when it did nothing to impede the brightening of those ridiculously dazzling eyes. "Oh piss it. Will you drop it, please? That smug look isn't going to alter the truth."

"Which is?"

"That I obviously don't fancy you."

"Oh? So how would you describe your feelings towards me then, mon chou?"

"Désir," he answered with as much indifference as he possibly could. It was not the exact truth but it was not a lie as well.

Silence hung in the air and for a moment Arthur was certain that he had royally screwed their sort-of relationship by stating something shamelessly shallow. He floundered at the thought, his mind reaching out to grasp at something or anything really to say, no, to amend his words. Rephrasing. Yes that seemed to be the only to save his relationship with his boss right now. Not romantically, the small voice in Arthur's head reminded and he agreed. Well, of course not romantically. He just did not want it to be too awkward in the office. People have been talking (particularly and especially Yao) since they had started sleeping together and the last thing he wanted was for them to keep talking about more shit behind his back. Or, in Yao's case, rub it in face.

"Shit. Fuck. No, fuck. Um, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to – look, Francis," he began, cringing a little at the way the man's brows shot up to his hairline. "It wasn't suppose to sound like it sounded. I mean it was but not in that way. I mean, aside from the fact that I obviously find you buff and ludicrously attractive in ways that make me stop thinking and cause an erection to spring up and…shit." He buried his face in his hands, groaning. "I'm fucking gabbling again, aren't I?"

"Yes."

"Fucking tits. I'm sorry. I keep swearing even though it's ungentlemanly. I've noted that down in my resolution and you can very well see how much that's working out for me and please tell me why am I divulging these things to you?"

"Simply because," Francis simply said and Arthur looked at him in exasperation. "You really are quite the character aren't you, Arthur Kirkland." There was a trace of wonder in the tone of his voice as Francis stated this and before Arthur could attempt another explain of the obvious cock up with his words (because he obviously did not fancy Francis that much and of course he was obviously still straight because he still masturbated to cute, breasty women when Francis wasn't around), he climbed onto his lap and stole another kiss from him.

Of course, one thing led to another and well, although he wouldn't really outright admit it but Arthur was certain that there was no denying the fact that it was a very, very good weekend.

"I'm really sorry for telephoning you so suddenly."

"No, no," Arthur fussed, shaking his head as he sipped at his tea. "It's fine, really. I'm not busy at all." Glancing up, he noticed the disapproving look Yao was fixing him with but he chose to ignore it. If the prick could cater personal calls on daily basis, why couldn't he attend to mate for a few minutes?

"Ah, is that so? Thank you. I won't take too much of your time, Arthur," Kiku replied, sounding a little relieved strangely.

"And I with yours. Aren't you in uni right now?" It was not often that Kiku called him, now that Arthur thought about it. It was usually the other way round, when he was intoxicated.

"Yes." There was a small pause and it almost seemed as if Kiku was carefully selecting his words. "I just…I wish to invite you to my cousin's engagement party," he said slowly.

Arthur raised his eyebrows in surprise at this. Well, for one thing, such an invitation was really out of the blue and he wondered if Kiku was taking the mick because Gilbert had forced him at gunpoint (which wouldn't surprise him, really, given the prank calls Gilbert used to troll him with during his early days of settling in Elixir. But then again this was Kiku. He would never do such a thing towards him). Secondly, Arthur had a growing suspicion that an invitation was not the reason Kiku had rung him in the first place. It was definitely something else because if it was merely an invite, the man would have done so face to face with a scented handwritten invitation in tow.

"Oh," uttered Arthur intelligently. He took another sip of his tea before he resumed scrolling down Gilbert's obnoxiously lime themed blog. Not that he regularly checked it, of course (because that was a stupid thing to do since Gilbert blogs about anything and practically everything). He simply had nothing better to do then since Francis had been cooped up in meetings all morning. He grimaced at the uploaded photographs the man had posted in his latest entry, all of which were taken from their last outing. "Um, thank you," he continued once he realised Kiku was waiting for him to elaborate. "I'm flattered really, but are you sure that's wise? What with it being a family event and all. I mean, shouldn't you rather be inviting Gilbert instead? Surely your relatives are more likely to welcome a familiar face than a stranger like myself." He paused his scrolling and examined a picture. It was the one of Kiku and for some reason, something seemed off about it.

"I suppose," Kiku hummed in agreement. "Although, I'm afraid I'm a little too late to ask him. He's already decided to attend, even though I've never mentioned anything about the event to him."

"Huh," Arthur snorted. "Can't say I'm surprised. Well, you have your escort with you so I don't see why you needed to invite me. I wouldn't feel hurt if you didn't ask me, you know."

"Mm, yes, but…" Kiku paused. "Well, I apologise if this is a little too presumptuous of me but I do regard you as my family as well, Arthur. Alongside Gilbert and Feliks. I would be honoured if you could all attend. I'm sure my relatives would be excited to meet you," he said sheepishly in a small voice before finally adding, "If it's no bother that is."

Arthur was surprised by the confession and he fell quiet, allowing the weight of Kiku's words to sink into him.

Family, huh.

He leant back in his chair and a small laugh bubbled from his chest. He could not help it. Honestly, sometimes the things Kiku said were rather cute. Well, cute was probably was not the best way to describe his good friend, especially when they were both way past the age of being regarded as 'cute', but that was the best thing word to sum him up at the moment. Cute. Yes, Kiku was fucking cute alright.

"Well, I," he started, only to stop when another chuckle escaped him as he tried to gather himself. "Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh. I just didn't expect…to be honest, I'm a little gobsmacked."

"I'm sorry."

"No, no. Please, don't get me wrong. I didn't mean it in a negative way. I'm just…well. Given the complications I've had in the past with…you know."

"Ah, yes. Again, I apologse."

"You really ought to stop apologising for trivial things."

"I'm so-I understand."

"Good on you. Now, about this party of yours…"

"Ah, yes, um, you needn't answer it now. I will send an invitation to you. Perhaps tomorrow, if that is alright?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

"Thank you."

"Not a problem."

There was a small pause and Arthur could hear Kiku shuffle some papers. "Is that all?" he asked slowly.

Kiku made a non-committal sound.

"What? Did that knobhead take your door apart again?"

"Well. Um. No. No, Gilbert hasn't been inconsiderate. He's, uh. It's…it's actually, um, something. Something else," Kiku mumbled, his soft-spoken voice quavering a little.

Arthur straightened in his seat. So it really wasn't because of the invitation. "Tell me," he coaxed.

Kiku hesitated. "I…I don't think…"

"Hey, come on now. You've had to deal with a crapload of my drunken calls. It's the least I could do. Please?"

"Alright," Kiku finally agreed. "I'm sorry for asking you but…I'm afraid I need some advice on a personal matter."

Arthur raised his mug to his lips. "Oh?" He did his best to keep the obvious surprise from his voice.

"Yes, I…I'm afraid if it will affect my role as a teacher."

Well, well.

Arthur could not stop the grin which erupted across his face. "Go on."

"A student of mine is currently bearing feelings for me and I don't know what to do."

"Well fuck me. Does Gilbert know about this?"

"Um, no."

Huh. That's a first.

"Good. Better not tell him or else he'll tweet it to the whole fucking world, thus actually jeopardising your position. So, how old is she? Is she fit?"

"Ah. Yes, well about that…" Kiku took a deep breath. "It's a he."

Arthur spilt his tea on his shirt.