Chapter 7

~o~

Alfred played with his silver flask, idly tracing his fingers over the monogrammed 'A'. He lay curled against Arthur's side, the pair of them cozied up on the couch as they watched their Thursday film. Arthur's hand slipped underneath the blanket, sliding his fingers over Alfred's thigh. "Not gonna work," Alfred said absently, making Arthur huff with annoyance beside him.

"I don't see why I cannot try," the author muttered. Ever since their spectacular failure of a sexual session, the Brit seemed to take it as a personal challenge to get Alfred up.

"I didn't say you couldn't. I just said it wasn't gonna work," the vampire grinned. He put the flask aside, twisting around to press Arthur up into the couch. "But I know what else you can try instead..." he murmured, letting his breath gently flutter over Arthur's bare skin and his hands roam over the author's flesh. A tremble ran through Arthur, his eyes fluttering closed with desire.

"This is grossly unfair," he griped, enjoying Alfred's talented hands nonetheless. "I should be able to do the same to you."

"You do," Alfred assured him, smiling as he pressed a kiss to Arthur's lips. "You just can't tell. Drives you nuts, doesn't it?" His partner only let out a growl, his teeth nipping at Alfred's cool skin along his neck. Laughing, Alfred unbuttoned Arthur's trousers and the rest of the movie was promptly forgotten.

~o~

"Don't look now, but he's following us again."

Arthur cursed under his breath, his eyes glancing up to catch sight of the Russian in the reflection of the glass behind the bar. "You should put a restraining order on him," he muttered darkly, giving Ivan a sharp glare. He tossed back his whiskey and ordered another.

Alfred sighed, sipping his club soda and lime. "Arthur, just stop worrying about it. He hasn't done anything yet. Plus he's helped me out before."

The author gave him an incredulous look. "That hardly means he's allowed to harass you." However, the boy only shrugged and looked away. Arthur had no idea why Alfred put up with this when he clearly didn't enjoy being stalked. He chalked it up to one of the many secrets he was sure that Alfred was hiding. Granted, everyone was entitled to secrets. But for now, what mattered most was that Alfred loved him, which he knew without question. He wouldn't risk losing what they had just to satisfy his curiosity.

...Even if all the mysteries were driving him a bit batty.

In any case, Arthur didn't feel like rehashing the old Ivan argument right now. "Fine, we shall discuss it later. However, I have a question for you. Are you up for an outing?" he asked, changing the subject. He brought out his phone, displaying the invitation from his publisher. "It's my launch party for my new series."

Alfred tensed, which Arthur expected. Arthur was always considerate of the boy's crowd anxiety, hating the way Alfred's body shook as though he were about to go into a panic attack whenever he was in a press of bodies. Clubs were out of the question. As were movies on opening night. Concerts of popular bands. Consequently, Arthur's friends now found the author particularly dull. Like an "old married couple," they said. Arseholes.

However, now he wrapped a hand over Alfred's arm and squeezed gently. "It would mean a lot to me..." he murmured softly, pressing a kiss to Alfred's cheek. The younger man squirmed, muttering something about his drunken breath. Arthur ignored it, tracing his lips along Alfred's jaw. "Love, say yes~" he wheedled, his hand sliding down to the boy's waist.

"Okay-okay-fine," Alfred said in a rush of breath. "Now stop it. Seriously. Ivan's watching." He turned to look back at their watcher, but Arthur caught his chin and brought him into a hungry kiss instead. "Perv," he muttered breathlessly when his lips were free.

"Oh, but you love me," the author teased back. He bumped shoulders with him. "Thank you."

"Sure," Alfred grinned back fondly. Then his smile fell. "Wait, do I need a suit?"

~o~

New York City looked like a completely different world from the tinted windows of a limo. All the sounds were muted, the odors covered by the smell of expensive leather. The bright lights seemed brighter and the darks darker. It was almost like looking out at a comic book page of Gotham. Alfred stared out at it and up to the buildings scraping the clouds up above.

"Alfred, careful. Don't crease your tux," the author chided beside him, looking on the vampire in amusement.

"M'not a kid," Alfred shot back. However, he frowned as he saw crowds accumulating. Very well dressed crowds. Women in long brightly colored gowns, men in suits and tuxes. He craned his neck up again to see the brightly embossed letters WALDORF ASTORIA on the side of the stone building. The vampire felt his stomach sinking. "Um... Arthur?" he said in a small voice. "Exactly how big is this launch party?"

The author blinked, before he realized the source of Alfred's sudden anxiety. "Oh, it's really not that bad," he said quickly. "It's just more crowded out here, since everyone's trying to get in. Don't worry, my publishers will keep the press gangs off of us."

"Press gangs?!" Alfred squeaked, turning white as a sheet. Photographers! There were going to be fucking photographers at this thing! He couldn't have his picture taken! That was rule number fucking one of Vampires Anonymous! He was sure that the whole stupid myth about vampires not being seen in the mirror or in a camera was because of rule number fucking one!

Arthur's face bloomed into an expression of belated realization mixed with horror. However, it was too late, as the limo pulled up to the entrance of the hotel. Swallowing hard, Arthur patted Alfred's arm. "It's alright. It's alright, Alfred. We'll just go through the back. It's not a problem. Driver!"

But the driver was missing. No, shit, the driver was at the door! Before anyone could stop him, the limo door swung open, flashes of light blinding Alfred until his vision grew spotty. The vampire froze solid, staring out at the press like a doe caught in the headlights. He scarcely noticed Arthur get out of the other side, adjusting his tux with a roll of his shoulders. The author came over to his side, blocking Alfred from the cameras with his body. "Alfred," he said softly. "I'm very, very sorry about this. I swear I will make it up to you later. But please come with me. It won't last long I promise."

Alfred reached into his jacket and took a quick swig from his flask. Then he nodded faintly, taking Arthur's proffered hand. Stepping out into the spotlight felt like he was stepping out into the sun, with just as deadly consequences. Walking through the crowd was like trudging through a desert without any water, suffocating and disorienting. However, Arthur shook his shoulder and he suddenly realized that they were in the middle of an opulent ballroom shimmering with gold. "You did it," Arthur beamed at him. "I'm so proud of you, Alfred. You're getting so much better."

My life is over... Alfred only nodded faintly, his mind whirling as he thought of his picture being all over the papers. All over the internet. What if somebody recognized him? One of his old tenants? His old employers? It was all ruined.

Arthur was oblivious to his inner turmoil, only patting Alfred on the cheek to pull him out of his daze. Everyone was already clamoring for his attention, from fans to production teams to agents, distracting the author. "Alright, come now. I have a few people that I need to talk to. Would you like to come with me or would you like to sit down?" Arthur asked, touching Alfred's shoulder.

"I- I'll just sit down," Alfred replied, hoping he could just crawl into a hole and hide for the rest of the party.

"Alright, I'll get you a drink," Arthur said softly. "Just sit yourself down and get comfortable." He leaned in to whisper in Alfred's ear, "I got us a room for later..." Alfred gave him a weak smile that died as soon as he was left alone with his club soda at a table in the corner. No one seemed to pay him too much mind, their attention instead drawn to his date. He didn't appreciate until quite this moment just how famous Arthur Kirkland was. (Though seriously, how else could he afford to pay $10k a month?)

Quite frankly he didn't appreciate it at all at the moment.

He felt dizzy and sick. There were so many humans all around him, flushed with wine, the excitement, the heat of each other. He shut his cat-slit eyes, trying to block out the Want suddenly surging up in him.

. . .

Breathing harshly, he pulled his flask out and emptied all the blood from it, hoping that it would help. It did nothing. Nothing!

"It is never enough, is it?" a dark, foreign voice spoke right in front of him. Alfred nearly jumped out of his skin, suddenly confronted by a strange man standing in front of him. He didn't even sense the man coming up to him, even though his hunter's senses were so primed.

The tall blond smiled down at him. He nodded to the flask. "It is never enough, right?"

"None of your business," Alfred snapped, irritable from being so hungry. The man probably assumed that he was an alcoholic. However, he couldn't help but be unsettled by the stranger's presence. There was something wrong with him. Not like Ivan-wrong, but wrong.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," the man with the pearl earring tutted. "It is my business. Ue cannot have you go on a bloody rampage in ze middle of a party, now can ue?" Alfred froze, a sharp chill crawling over him. He looked up at the man in mute astonishment. The man in black smiled and held out a leather gloved hand. "Let me introduce myself," he said, as Alfred finally identified his accent as Eastern European. Though not slavic... "My name is Dr. Vladimir Negrescu, at your service."

Alfred narrowed his eyes. He'd heard that name before... Then like a bolt of lightning, it shot through him. "You!" he cried out, skidding his chair away. "You're that quack doctor that Arthur talked to months ago!"

"I can assure you, I am not a quack," the (Romanian? Yes, Romanian) doctor replied lightly, putting his hands behind his back when the vampire didn't accept it. Alfred's eyes immediately sought out Arthur, but he couldn't find him in the throngs of people. Did he know about this? "No, Arthur does not know about this," Dr. Negrescu said, as though reading Alfred's thoughts. "I am merely here to... satisfy a curiosity. I had assumed, rightly, that you uould accompany Arthur here tonight."

"Well sorry you came all this way for nothing," Alfred hissed, folding his arms over his chest. His cat-slit eyes burned into the man. "Now leave me alone." However, the Romanian only chuckled, completely unaffected by Alfred's entrancing gaze. Stunned, the vampire tried it again. "I mean it. Go."

This time, Dr. Negrescu outright laughed. Alfred stared at him in shock. "What... what are you?" he demanded, the conviction in his voice faltering from being caught off guard.

The doctor gave him an amiable smile, his red eyes dancing with mirth. Hell, how did Alfred not notice the man had red eyes? "I am... like you," Dr. Negrescu replied delicately, "In a uay. Now, let us fix fis little problem, shall ue? Hold out your hand."

Like hell he was going to hold out his hand for this-

Yet, of its own accord, Alfred's hand rose from his side, baring his lily-white wrist up in a submissive gesture. Alfred stared at it, jaw dropped, before noticing that the Romanian had pulled a smooth black bracelet with a silver clasp out of his bag. His arm tensed, trying in vain to pull his hand away from mid-air. However, he could do nothing as the man slid the bracelet over his wrist and clasped it shut.

Then the world exploded.

He was fully exposed to the sun in the middle of the Sahara.

His body was burning up, flesh sizzling right off his bones.

He clutched his head and screamed in agony.

Everything was so bright.

Sun reflecting off shattered mirrors.

His bloody feet walked over the shards.

He was burning up.

He was turning to ash.

Oh God- Arthur, ARTHUR!

Alfred suddenly collapsed against the table, bracing himself as he gasped for breath. No one around them noticed his sudden attack, oblivious as the vampire fought for consciousness. His whole body had broken out into a sweat and...

B-bmp.

Something foreign thudded within him.

B-bmp. B-bmp.

...No. No. That was impossible.

B-bmp. B-bmp. B-bmp.

His fingers shaking as badly as a leaf in a winter storm, Alfred put his hand to his own chest. His breath hitched as he felt it beat back at him, knocking gently like an old friend using a secret password. "Oh my God. Oh my God," Alfred whispered, his words trembling violently. He turned his face up to the Romanian. "What did you just do?"

"I made a small adjustment," Dr. Negrescu replied amiably. "Fere are so few of your kind left. It uould be a travesty if you burnt to a crisp. Or uere discovered. Now, notice anything else?"

Alfred looked down and concentrated. No, nothing. There wasn't... His blue eyes snapped back up. "The Want's gone..."

"Ze Uant?" Dr. Negrescu chuckled. "You are out of touch. How quaint. Uell, call it uat you uill, but you uill no longer have issue uit it. You are a beast no longer. For all intents and purposes, you are human like everyone else. You eat, you sleep, you breathe, you ualk in ze sun, everyfing."

Alfred held his breath. "Like Arthur?" he demanded, getting up from his seat.

The Romanian nodded. "Yes," he replied, "but you uill still retain some of your powers, underneath-" However, he didn't have a chance to say more before the vampire jumped up to his feet and picked the doctor up in a bone crushing hug.

"Thank you! Thank you so much! I don't know how I can ever repay you!" Alfred cried out, not noticing that his savior was getting squeezed to death.

"Quite alright-alright stop!" the doctor gasped. He was just as suddenly dropped to his feet, his entire arm nearly wrenched out of iit socket for Alfred's vigorous hand shaking as he continued to stammer out his gratitudes. "You are uelcome, Alfred Jones. However, I must insist you come to my office for a follow up. Perhaps fis Friday?"

"Y-yeah, okay," Alfred agreed quickly, his eyes already scanning the ballroom for any sign of his date. He couldn't remember the last time everything looked so colorful and vibrant, able to appreciate the surroundings rather than the exposed necks bared all around him. His heart drummed in his chest, making him want to dance to the literal beat of his own music. He just felt so alive. Finally, he spotted Arthur in a small circle of people, chatting and making polite conversation. His breath caught, taking in the author without the sub-label of prey for the very first time.

Slender, but masculine. High cheek bones and striking features. Broad shoulders tapered down to a slim waist, fitted perfectly by the sharp cut of his tux. A long pale neck he could never appreciate aesthetically before. That choppy blond hair that he knew was soft as chick down. Those very kissable lips pulled into a self-assured and charming smile. He even like the heavy eyebrows that only made the dazzling green eyes stand out even more.

Holy shit. How did he not realize just how sexy Arthur was? No wonder he sold so many flippin' books.

Before he knew what he was doing, and with scarcely a goodbye to Dr. Negrescu, Alfred was striding quickly across the ballroom through the crowd. Coming up behind Arthur's slim back, his heart hammered in his throat (he was going to have to get used to that) and casually touched Arthur's elbow. The author jerked, turning around in startlement. His eyes widened when he saw Alfred standing behind him. "Alfred? Is everything alright?"

The vampire gave him his most stunning smile. "Never better." He was treated to the sight of Arthur's cheeks blushing. Oddly, he could still hear what was going on, as blood rushed up to the author's face. There was just no compulsion there to act on it. So instead he glanced around to the group. "Who are your friends?"

"What...? Oh!" Arthur stammered, getting a hold of himself. He immediately returned to that cavalier persona he put on for the public, gesturing to his group. "These are my publishers." He rattled off a bunch of names that Alfred honestly didn't care about, though he made a point to give them all a charming smile and shake their hands. Just because he could. He was also more than a little smug at seeing Arthur's look of astonishment.

"It's very nice to meet you all. But I was wondering if I could borrow Arthur for a little bit," he told the group, letting his eyes flash just a bit to enforce the suggestion. Naturally, they agreed, so the vampire gave them a small wave and led Arthur away.

"Alfred, what's wrong?" Arthur asked in a hushed voice, concern painted all over his features.

Alfred grinned. "Nothing's wrong," he assured Arthur softly. "Absolutely nothing." The Brit didn't even realize that Alfred had led them both onto the dance floor, so he was startled when the vampire pulled him into a slow waltz. "I just wanted to dance with my boyfriend."

Caught flat footed in more than one way, Arthur nonetheless recovered and kept pace easily. His cheeks coloring at the new title, Arthur nonetheless leaned into him, pressing his mouth close to Alfred's ear. "Please tell me you're not using something to make you so relaxed," he whispered.

Unable to help himself, Alfred laughed. Well, he was. In a way. His eyes glanced down at the mysterious black bracelet still clasped to his wrist. "I met Dr. Negrescu," he explained quietly. He felt Arthur's body tense against him. "No, it's okay. I know you didn't invite him. But you were right about him. He helped me out." He would never be able to explain how, of course. "Thank you so, so much for finding him, Arthur. I'll never be able to repay you..."

Even as he flushed at the vampire's words, the Brit was ever the skeptic. "Right, but I still don't understand what he was doing here. And what- he was able to treat you at the party? Besides, what would treating porphyria have anything to do with curing crowd-anxiety? Not to mention-"

Alfred stopped his lips up with a rough, needy kiss. He was sure that he heard cameras flashing, but he honestly didn't care. When he pulled back, he panted softly for want of breath. Weird. Fun. It was like his lungs were all tingly.

Arthur looked just as breathless, his features flushed with sudden desire. "You're warm..." he whispered huskily, brushing his fingers over Alfred's cheek.

"Is that bad?" the vampire asked softly.

"No..." Arthur said in a sigh of breath. Their brows pressed together, breath intermingling. There was nothing else in the entire room besides the two of them. "Everyone's looking," the author reminded him, though he didn't take his eyes away.

"Don't care."

"I have to work."

"Really don't care," Alfred replied, his cheeks puffing up in a pout.

"Alfred," Arthur chided without any real heat. Reluctantly, he gently pushed the vampire away. "Do I need to send you up to your room?" he asked with a mischievous glint to his eye.

"Yes please," Alfred grinned wide, that glint mirrored in his own eyes.

The author pressed himself close, so that the photographers wouldn't see as he pulled a keycard out of his pocket and slipped it into Alfred's jacket. "I'll meet you upstairs. After I get done down here. Feel free to order room service and champagne while you wait." Then he pinched Alfred in that spot just below his ribs, just because he knew what it did to his lover. Before the vampire could react, Arthur already whisked himself away to attend to his fans and well wishers.

Alfred let out an impatient huff. Well, he supposed that one of them needed to bring home the bacon. Sighing, he turned on his heel and headed out of the ballroom and to the lobby. He never noticed a pair of steel blue eyes following him out the door.

~o~

"Eighteen... eighteen..." the vampire mumbled to himself, looking for the specific room number on this floor. The opulence of the hotel carried up even into the guest rooms, although now dark corridors and the carpets were getting a bit of that dated old-hotel vibe to them. Well. He should talk. Actually, he was a bit surprised that Arthur didn't splurge on the penthouse suite, but he supposed that Arthur's wallet had some limit to it.

Alfred paused mid-step. Wow. Arthur had seriously spoiled him rotten. Chuckling to himself, he finally found their room and swung the door open. Immediately, his senses were assaulted with the smell of a greenhouse. The suite was packed with flowers, as well as chocolates and gift baskets, all gifts to Arthur from the various people he was no doubt talking to downstairs. Wrinkling his nose, Alfred found the smelliest ones and hid them in the closet. Then he changed into the courtesy silk pyjamas and hopped into the plush canopy bed.

Bored... he thought, impatient for Arthur to get up here already. He had a real, living body now. He should be able to do something with it. However, from how popular Arthur was, he didn't think that the author was going to be able to get away for hours. Heaving a great sigh, Alfred flopped over onto the bed and turned on the TV. He found the History channel and his attention was immediately drawn to the story about aliens building the pyramids.

However, soon a smell completely different than the flowers wafted by. Something dark, something sweet. The foreign sensation of his stomach rumbling distracted him from the television, pulling his attention straight to the bizarre alluring smell. He vaguely recognized it as chocolate, but he never thought that it had ever smelled so delicious. His blue eyes trailed over to the stacks of boxes waiting for Arthur. He licked his lips. Okay, Arthur didn't really need all that chocolate, did he? No, definitely not. He'd never get through it all.

Crawling across the bed, Alfred grabbed one of the boxes and opened it up in his lap. The scent only grew all the more pungent and he shakily picked up a decadent, little truffle. Dr. Negrescu did say he could eat human food, right? Right. Sucking in a long breath, he delicately popped the chocolate into his mouth.

~o~

It was well past one in the morning when Arthur finally got away from the party. His cheeks hurt from smiling, his feet blistered from dancing, his eyes ached from all the flashing photography. All in all, it was a good night. However, he felt horribly guilty from leaving Alfred alone for so long. Especially when the boy had been so eager to get his hands all over him. Sighing heavily, he hoped that Alfred at least had a nice time in the luxurious surroundings.

When the door swung open to their suite, Arthur had to do a quick double take. There were empty boxes and wrappers strewn everywhere. It was a complete mess. Surely, he had accidentally wandered into someone else's room. However, when he picked up a lid labeled with a famous French chocolatier brand, it was addressed to him. "What in the..." he muttered, only to be interrupted by a faint moan coming from the archway to the bedroom.

Tip-toeing over the mess, the author stepped into the bedroom and found his culprit. A large lump lay curled up underneath the bed, shivering and groaning. Arthur stared in incredulity. "Alfred," he said, laying a hand on top of the mop of blond hair sticking out from underneath the blanket. The body went completely still.

"Yeah...?" the boy responded weakly.

"...Did you eat all the chocolate in the suite?"

There was a lengthy pause. "...Maybe?" Arthur stared harder, completely stunned. Good lord, there had to be fifty boxes in there. He wasn't angry, of course. All the chocolate would have gone into the trash anyway. (Though he wanted that Swiss brand, damn it.) However, his mind was still reeling from the fact that not only had all his chocolate disappeared, but it had all gone into the belly of the one who he'd never seen touch a morsel of food in all the months they'd been together. "Arthur, I don't feel so good..." the boy moaned piteously from underneath the blanket.

Despite himself, Arthur let out a bark of laughter. This entire situation was so ridiculous. He should be grateful that Alfred ate anything at all, even if he managed to make himself sick. "Alright, alright... Let's have a look at you," he murmured fondly, pulling the covers back up from over Alfred skinny body.

Alfred was green to the gills, his eyes watery as his arms curled around his distended stomach. Arthur tsked at him. "Honestly, you're worse than a five year old on Halloween. I cannot believe you actually made yourself sick," he muttered, threading his fingers through Alfred's hair as he sat down beside him. Alfred's skin was so warm and it was wonderful to see actual colour to his face, even if he was a bit peaked at the moment. The author had no idea what Vlad did, but he would have to thank him somehow.

The boy suddenly made a gagging sound and leaned over the bed to retch into the wastebin.

...Maybe he could start by sending fifty boxes of chocolates to Vlad's office.

~o~

The next morning, beams of sunlight shone into the hotel windows, filtered only by a thin layer of muslin curtains. Arthur's lashes flickered in his sleep, the Brit slowly rousing from being so unused to exposure to morning light. His eyes fluttered open, his mind still foggy. He let out a faint hum, curling closer to his boyfriend's body. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. He like the sound of that. He let out a faint hum, comfortably swathed in the warmth of the sun.

A second later, panic set in like a cold bucket of water. Shit, the sun! He jumped from bed, dashing over to close the curtains when he suddenly realized that he didn't hear Alfred crying out in pain or smell burning skin. His hand dropped from the curtain to his side and he turned around to look at his lover.

Alfred still lay dozing peacefully in bed, recovering from his illness in the middle of the night. However, as Arthur's spot cooled, he made a fretful noise and cracked open his tired, blue eyes. The sight of him took Arthur's breath away. Never had Alfred looked more beautiful, his blond hair shining like spun gold and his eyes sparkled like cut sapphire. Even his warm skin, still so pale, glowed like a candle in alabaster. Arthur had no doubt about it now. Alfred belonged in the sun.

"Arthur...?" the boy questioned tiredly, rubbing his eyes with his fist. "Why's it so bright?"

The author swallowed and found his cracked voice. "That's... that's the sun, Alfred." The boy experienced the same instinctive wash of panic, his blue eyes snapping wide open and he tugged a canopy bed curtain down to shield himself. Arthur let out a laugh, heading over to the bed. "Alfred..." he said, peeking past the curtain where Alfred was hiding like a frightened kitten. Smiling, he waved the boy to come. "Alfred, come on out. It's safe. You're fine..."

Alfred didn't look like he believed him, doling the author a look of heavy suspicion.

"You've been sleeping out in the sun for at least the past hour," Arthur explained and pulled the curtain back. Alfred flinched when the light caught him, but as expected he didn't break out into sizzling lesions. Nonetheless, he sat stiffly in bed, staring at the sunlight reflecting off of his exposed skin. Arthur smiled at him, sitting down beside him in bed. "I'm so happy for you..." he spoke softly, leaning over to press a kiss to Alfred's neck.

Slowly, Alfred raised his hand out into the glow, feeling the light properly for what could be the first time in his life. "Is... is this real?" he whispered, still disbelieving. Just for that, Arthur pinched him in that sensitive spot just below Alfred's ribs, causing the boy to yelp and shiver. "Arthur, what the hell!" Alfred cried, flailing to get the Brit away from him. Then he caught Arthur's look. "What?"

Arthur coughed delicately, pointing down to Alfred's... tent. Alfred looked down and let out a sharp cry. He pulled one of the pillows off the bed and used it to cover his groin. He turned his back to Arthur, his face and ears burning in mortification. Arthur burst out laughing. The reaction was just priceless. "Shut up, it's not funny!" Alfred yelled back at him, humiliated.

Still in a fit of hysterical giggles, Arthur crowed, "Yes, it is!" He only laughed harder when Alfred threw a pillow at him. Biting his lower lip, the author did what he could to try to restrain himself so he didn't upset the boy's sensibilities too much. After all, he had plans. "Oh Alfred~" he cooed, walking two fingers up along the boy's spine. "Come on and look at me."

A sharp shiver ran through the boy, but he still continued to sulk. "Why should I?" he demanded childishly.

"Because I will make it worth your while~" the Brit replied in a sultry purr. That seemed to catch Alfred's attention. Slowly, he glanced over his shoulder. His eyes went wide when he saw the sharp, predatory smile stretched along Arthur's lips.

Screw the chocolates, Arthur was buying Vlad a car.