((Sorry it took so long for this chapter my original idea for this story just melted and I had to rewrite this chapter too many times to count. I will be more diligent with the next chapter, I promise. ^J^ ))

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"With your sleepy eyes~ Could you ever love a man like me..? And you were right… When I walked into your house, I knew I'd never want to leave."

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The two drank through a few bottles each as they talked. Slowly they both got a little tipsy, but nothing too horrid. Although the Brit was starting to drink his way into a blurry, flushed rosie-pink-cheeks, state of mind. Alfred took it as the signal to stop the drinking for a while. But the Brit was already gone into his blurry- drunken-happy land.

"Alfred... D-Did you see that red-head? She l-looked so f-fine~" His British accent mixed with drunken slur was making it difficult to understand him. Alfred's heart sank a little after he was asked about the red-head.

Alfred is gay. And he truly hoped that Arthur was too... Since a crush had been manifested over the past few years.

"Alright, Arthur. I think you have had too much to drink." He frowned, before he picked up the thickly-browed blonde and carried him to his limo that had been waiting for their extended hang out to end for the last hour and a half.

The driver closed the door behind the two and got in the front. Turning his head with a smile, "Where to sir?"

"To m-my hotel, p-please." Slurring his words, slowly the Brit waved and then plopped onto one of the cushions and took another swig of his bottle, only to find it empty and pulled another two out of a mini-fridge and offered one to the American sitting across from him zoned out.

'Off to the hotel.' Good, now the Brit can sober up and...- WHAT- OFF TO THE HOTEL?!

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Arthur, though, smirked to himself while Al was dazed off in his own thoughts. He was playing a little trick on the other. He had gotten a heads-up from his fan that he would be coming. Alfred truly was his biggest fan and went to all his concerts, or at least bought the video of them when they were on sale. Alfred was always on Arthur's fan page and had an ongoing account and never missed a memo or event without knowing.

He saw a few photos of him and fell in love with his body. His looks. He read his bio he wrote about himself on the fanpage and fell in love with his personality. It was his goal to meet him and he found him the front row at least. He sent in money for him through his boss and then to Alfred so he could go and get front row tickets. Somehow it all worked out in the end.

And here they are now, a blonde singer pretending to be drunk to get into the arms of his crush. Interesting really. This is the highlight of Artie's life, and Al's too. Arthur had been looking for a 'special someone' for years, but nothing ever was 'Special' like he wanted it until he got into the music bizz, and now all the girls were too young, sluts or already taken, or just, all of the above. Majority of men. Men. Not a chance. Until Alfred came around. He was the silver lining in his life. And since then, he wanted to write a song about him, and he was going to do it soon. Almost like Elton John's 'Tiny Dancer'.

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"Y-You never t-told me if you s-saw her..!" Arthur closed his eyes for a moment and hiccupped.

The drunken, well, fake drunken man had been carried out the limo, through the lobby, in the elevator, down the hall, and to a pair of crimson doors with gold colored handles. The dirty blonde picked up the door card off the floor that the other had dropped in an attempt to open the door.

Walking in, cerulean eyes widened at the sight of the deluxe master suite. A bed bigger than a king, a balcony, master bathroom with a tub and walk in shower that is big enough to be a 'live in' shower, another mini-fridge, and a sixty-two inch flat screen tv with a Blu-ray player and cable. The room's décor was unimaginable.

"I did. I didn't think much of her." Al bluntly spoke as he lay Arthur on the bed, prying the now half empty bottle from his hands.

After setting down the bottle he took off his jacket and set it on the chair behind him before sitting on the bed next to Artie- who now had a twinkle in his eye that the American saw, but disregarded it as his imagination and started to hum the chorus to Leather and Lace by Stevie Nicks.

The next thing he knew, the drunkard wasn't so drunken now and had a seductive smile on his face, but a light tint in his cheeks still remained. Alfred blushed as his eyes widened a little. But then he chuckled and placed his palm to his forehead and grinned.

"Man- and I thought I could fake being drunk! Hahaha. You're goo-" The American was stopped in mid-sentence as his wrist was grabbed and pulled down before being pulled again into a very passionate lip-lock. Alfred couldn't help but to not pull away from this. His dreams is becoming too much of a reality. But what could he say? It was the time of his life.

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((So.. Chapter 2! Chapter 3 is already in progress, so no worries. Hope you have enjoyed so far and thank you to the 2 followers and 1 fav. ^J^ ))