Admin: Yay chapter, sorry I've been lazy also going through drama. Thank goodness for the drama though, it added onto the romance part of this so yay! I hope you enjoy it, sorry for the wait. I hope I don't disappoint!
"It is simple, mon ami, I would like to be your friend," Francis stated nonchalantly. Alfred eyed the man, a suspicious expression forming on his face. Here, right in front of him, was a man who had wanted to kill him for the chance to have Arthur back; now, out of nowhere, he was trying to be friends. The risks were high as Alfred moved a little closer to the Frenchman.
Walking in slow circles around Francis, Alfred evaluated the possible outcomes of this situation. Scenario One: Francis was doing this just to get closer to Arthur. Scenario Two: Francis genuinely wanted to be his friend and forget the past. And Scenario Three: Francis was just a really weird guy.
With these things in mind, Alfred stopped his slow pace. With footsteps no longer echoing throughout the room, and violent bangs abusing the poor door in any way possible, Francis and Alfred looked at each other.
Alfred's bright blue eyes glared back at the man whose eyes were the same color. A single bead of sweat ran down Alfred's cheek as he clenched his teeth. On the other hand, Francis was showing no sign of being nervous or suspicious.
"Wait," Alfred began, "you want to be my friend? What the hell is wrong with you?"
"I assure you, nothing is wrong with me. I simply want to be your friend. Is that such a crime?"
"No... I guess not… But this still doesn't make any sense! A few days ago you wanted nothing more than to take away someone who wasn't mine, and now you want to be my friend? Why?"
"The answer to that can be found in an old saying."
"And what saying would that be?"
Francis rolled his eyes irritably and dug his hands into his pockets, taking three steps to the side. He did his best to ignore the loud noises coming from the door.
"Keep your friends close, and keep your enemies closer. This works out perfectly for the both of us since we are not friends, but enemies. We should try to be frenemies instead, then we could still put each other down."
"Wait... What?"
"Stupid American."
"HEY! I'm not stupid; you just made it sound confusing, that's all. Damn."
"Hmm, let's think of it in terms you would understand. If we become friends, we would both be able to get closer to our dear Arthur. It also gives us the advantage of being able to understand the other more, then we could learn how to take each other down."
"Why the hell would I do that?"
"Well, even if you don't agree, I am still capable of finding these things out without you. And who knows? We might build up a mutual friendship where we don't care who Arthur ends up with."
"Well..."
"Think about it, mon ami. By being friends, we may grow closer and not want to practically kill each other whenever our eyes meet. Not only that, but it also saves you from getting traumatized if you tell me your medial conditions."
"Still... No matter how much I try, I can't imagine any good coming out of this. Why should I trust you, anyway?"
"Because our dear Mathieu does, and do you remember how we all got along so well back then?"
"Well, yeah, but that was before you went insane with jealousy over a guy I don't even like."
"Oh, trust me, you do like him, you just won't accept it and neither will he. But right now, there is actually someone who loves you more than life itself."
"R-really? Who?"
"I cannot tell you, you've known your whole life. It's not for me to tell, anyway."
"Then why they hell did you mention it?"
"Just so you can keep an eye out."
"…Okay then, back to the main reason why we're locked up here. I still see no reason to trust you."
"Hmm, really? What if I told you I can help you with your little problem with the media?"
"Go on."
"Well, if you accept this 'friendship', I will do everything in my power to make sure they don't get their hands on anything, except for what you want them to know."
"How?"
"That's for me to know, and for you to never find out."
"Fine, but so what? I'm the hero; I can get the paparazzi off my tail by myself."
"Oh, so what happens if I said you were cheating on Arthur with me right now, huh? What would you do then? The media is like a piranha, ready to snap at any sort of scandal at any given moment."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Are we really going to play this game, dear Alfred?"
"Don't call me that! And you don't have the balls to do it!"
"Okay, whatever you say." Smoothly sliding his hand into his suit pocket, Francis grabbed his IPhone and started to punch in numbers. With each tap of the screen, a loud beeping sound alerted the two of what number was being pressed. Alfred realized what number Francis was writing, and it made his eyes grow wide with shock.
"You're not..."
"Yes, I am."
"B-but-! NO DON'T!"
"But you've denied my offer. I wonder what the press will think when I send them this picture of you kissing Mathieu?" Francis held out the phone, revealing a photo shopped picture where it appeared Matthew was kissing Alfred. Searching through his memories, Alfred tried to pinpoint when exactly that picture could have been taken.
It was when Matthew had been giving him a butterfly kiss. The picture, however, had been taken at an angle that made it look like they were actually kissing.
"How could you bring your own brother into this?'
"He was in it from the start, and the media already have suspicions of him liking you," Francis told him with a wink. Bringing the phone closer to himself, his finger near the 'send' button, Francis gave Alfred a devious smirk.
"Hmm, what will they think, Alfred?"
"Okay..." Alfred replied reluctantly, his head down.
"Okay, what?"
"I'll be your stupid friend..." Alfred stared at the ground with a disappointed expression.
"Good choice. Now, I have to leave you, friend, but I'll be back." Francis made his way towards the door and started to unlatch it. "Remember to say hello to Arthur for me, will you? Thank you." As he finished this sentence, Francis allowed the doors to open and fled the room as fast as he could.
Twenty people piled into the room, two of which were Arthur and his father, who were all stunned to see the state Alfred was in. In the middle of that dark room, Alfred stood there, dazed and pouting slightly as he hugged himself.
"Are you alright, Mr Jones? You look like you've seen a ghost." George was the first to speak as he placed a hand on the American's shoulder. Jumping slightly, Alfred was snapped out of his trance and came back to reality.
"Uh, yes, I'm fine. Just a little shaken up by how closed in everything was, that's all."
"Well then, we must take you out of here. Everyone, please leave at once! Mr Jones is not feeling well!" George announced loudly, wrapping an arm around Alfred and leading him outside of the conference room and to the limo.
Right after he left, Francis made a little detour outside of the conference room. Eventually, as planned, Francis could now see his target within sight. He picked up his pace, making sure not to startle the other, just like a lion eyeing its prey.
With footsteps echoing as his heels connected with the marble ground, Francis' target was no longer a great distance away. He reached out a hand and let it stroke the length of slender shoulders.
"Bonjour, Mr Honda."
"What happened?" Arthur asked during the car ride home, his cat, Henry (Loops), on his lap.
"Nothing happened," Alfred replied coldly.
"Something must have happened for you to have that sort of reaction. Who was that person, and what did you talk about?"
"It's none of your business!"
"Everything you do is my business!"
"How?!"
"B-because… We are in this together, and it happened at a conference where we were answering questions about the rumors. Therefore, your conversation with this mysterious figure had to be about that."
"And if it was?!"
"Ah ha, so it was!"
"I never said that! I was just saying, what if it was? Then what would you do?"
"I would obviously set things right."
"Dude, I may be a few years younger than you, but I know how to handle things myself, okay? So, can you, like, drop it?"
"I most certainly will not."
"Fine then, I will act like my people when we want to ignore someone."
"What? Act stupid?"
"NO! My age has the word 'teen' in it, so that means I'm sort of a teenager. Not really, but still. And when we teenagers want to ignore adults, we listen to music on full blast." Just like that, Alfred whipped out a blue, sleek IPod touch. He plugged the head buds into his ears and began playing music as loud as possible.
Watching the American preform such a childish act, Arthur took it upon himself to speak his mind while the other wasn't paying attention.
"Well, if you're not going to listen to me, I guess I can use this time to say whatever I want. Where shall I start? There are many things I would like to say to you. Oh, I know, you're room is always so filthy! Toris dreads having to step foot in there every morning to wake you up.
Just because you are living in my house doesn't mean that everything will be cleaned for you the second you leave. It would be considerate if you picked up after yourself for once. Also, there's the fact that you rarely ever leave your room during the weekends. Are you conducting some kind of circus with the pets? You all seem to make enough noise during the day, why carry it on through the night?
Hmm… What else is there? Ah, yes, the fact that you never seem to pay attention to me. I'm your bloody boss! I should be the first one on your mind to impress, not the press, not my father, nor anyone else in that matter." Soon Arthur's acrid tone started to calm, turning more wistful. After a little while longer, he forgot Alfred wasn't listening.
"When you were with Martin, I couldn't help but feel as though you belonged by my side, that you and me were supposed to be together all day, every day. I can't quite explain it, but it's an odd feeling that even I don't understand.
W-what on Earth am I talking about?! I am not… No, I am a not, at least not with him! Oh no! Stop thinking those thoughts, Kirkland!"
"The hell?!" Alfred exclaimed, removing one ear bud and raising an eyebrow at his British companion.
"N-nothing… I was simply talking to myself, that's all. Did you need anything?"
"No, not really. We're at the mansion, just so you know. Oh yeah, come on, Loops, let's get you back to Abraham before he starts to flip out with worry." Alfred exited the vehicle and patted his thigh lightly, signalling Loops to follow him.
Loops obeyed and leaped off of his owner's lap to trot behind Alfred. Arthur followed the two, making sure to keep a good distance between them. After the thoughts that had passed through Arthur's head, he was afraid as to what might happen if he got too close to Alfred.
Considering the fact that Alfred's and Arthur's rooms were close together, Arthur made a short detour to the kitchen so he wouldn't have to see Alfred. The kitchen itself wasn't anything fascinating. There was a wooden table in the center of the room, covered with vegetables and cutting boards. There was also a giant silver fridge, which was fully stocked, much to Arthur's liking, and cabinets on every side of the kitchen, holding different cooking utensil. Finally, there was a sink to the far right, clean and ready for the servants to use the next day.
Its walls were painted an egg-shell white, opposed to the bluish-black counter tops made out of marble. The floor was a traditional white marble, with scratches here and there from shoes or utensils falling. Looking around, Arthur meandered towards the middle table and placed his wand on its cold wooden frame.
Sighing heavily, Arthur brought his free hand to his forehead and started to rub his temple.
"What am I going to do?" he asked himself wearily. Looking up, Arthur laid his eyes on his fridge. He decided to get himself some milk, and opened the fridge door to reach in and retrieve what he wanted.
Closing the door firmly, Arthur grabbed a glass from one of the cabinets and poured some milk into it. He took a long sip, but soon realized he was running empty. He left the milk jug out for future use.
"I see you are hitting the milk instead of the liquor, wise choice," a voice told Arthur before its body came into sight. Arthur didn't even bother to wonder who it was, since he knew that voice all too well. Instead, he gave an annoyed sigh.
"What do you want, father, or should I even call you that anymore?"
"I am your father whether you like it or not, I'm afraid. Even if you call me something different, that will never change. Why are you always so angry with me, my son?"
"You know the reason, why should I have to repeat it?"
"Well, I was hoping that there was more to it, so I could understand you better."
"You will never understand me."
"But I want to. I want to be the loving, trusting father you deserve so badly."
"Then why didn't you think of that a few years ago? It could have actually worked."
"Well, that was the past, this is now. And as of right now, I would like to know what is troubling you, my son."
"Must we talk about this now? It is such a late hour, and we both have work tomorrow."
"I suppose you're right. How about you and I have a little father son bonding time during lunch tomorrow? Mr Jones told me about a new restaurant that he thought we would like."
"I am too busy for that. As you know, I am holding back the company."
"Nonsense, you've been working far too hard lately. A break every now and then wouldn't hurt."
"I will think about it. However, I am not making any promises."
"Well, as long as there is a chance. Goodnight, Arthur."
"Goodnight, father."
"My life is so messed up, guys!" Alfred announced to his pets as he collapsed onto his bed. Abraham and James both trotted towards their master, putting a paw on his head.
"Now that I think about it, my life has turned into a soap opera. Or, or, this is like that thing where everyone is falling for the wrong person! Then again... it could still be a crack drama, with lots of sneaking around, a love triangle, and that one person you just want to choke because they're so mean. …Pssh, but what are the chances of that happening, am I right?"
There was no reply. The two animals simply tilted their heads and remained silent. Looking at each other, the both pets automatically knew what the other was thinking. They redirected their gaze to Alfred, staring at him, knowing they could not conjure up a response to whatever he was saying.
"Geez, sometimes I wish you guys could talk. More than that, though, I feel sorry for Mattie. He must be so troubled with the funeral and all, and then he'll have to come back to all this drama. I hope he'll be okay, man."
Waking up on his own for once, Arthur sprung out of bed and proceeded to make his way to his personal bathroom. When he was finished with freshening up, Arthur drove himself to work in his car.
Drowsy, hungry and irritated, Arthur stomped to his office in hopes that his work would help him get his mind of things. He sat at his desk, clutching all of the files he needed to review and edit, and began to work as more and more people started to arrive.
At approximately six o' clock, Arthur's throat was beginning to grow dry. The Brit placed a hand over his throat in mild concern, and then used the other hand to pick up his phone and punch in a number. Listening to the rings drone on and on, Arthur's massaged his temples to sooth his forming headache.
What on Earth is taking so long? He should have answered by now. Pick up, pick up, pick up, dammit! Ah, yes, finally!
"Alfred, make some tea, and while you're at it, come to my office to help me with some of my work," Arthur commanded into the phone before hanging up. As a heavy sigh managed to escape Arthur's lips, he returned to his work, more worried thoughts circling through his head.
What was he going to do about this whole situation? Sure, everything was a longshot from the beginning, but it was his own fault for being so careless. On top of that, with Matthew and Francis entering the picture, it seemed as if things were getting worse every day. Then his father only had to add onto everything with his love hate complex, more so hate than love.
Tapping on the keys of his keyboard, Arthur tried to escape the thoughts that occupied his brain 24/7. The president attempted everything he could think of to keep his mind off of things, but like each and every one before, the tricks and quick fixes did nothing for Arthur. In fact they only made him think them even more.
Arthur stood up and walked over to the window behind him, deciding to look down and watch the city people. As he stared at the antlike forms below, Arthur wondered what it must be like to be someone else, with a different life and different worries. They would probably have less stressful concerns, though, considering they wouldn't have to deal with the press.
Closing his eyes, Arthur smiled and imagined he was in a peaceful garden, surrounded by beautiful exotic flowers, a koi pond and many butterflies all around. At his feet was a stone path, which would lead him to a table with tea.
As he strolled along this path, Arthur saw his imaginary friends. He smiled as if nothing was wrong, as he had encountered these friends every so often in the past, and proceeded to have a long conversation with them, sitting at the table and drinking tea. Due to the conversation he was having with Tinker Bell, he would let a laugh escape his lips every now and then.
"Oh, you are all such a delight. Come on now, I've been far too busy to talk to you lately, you must understand. No, of course I'm not going to forget you guys." Maintaining his seemingly mentally unstable manner, Arthur failed to notice the man at the door with tea in his hands.
Francis.
"A-are you alright?" Francis asked awkwardly, taking a few steps forward.
"F-Francis!" Arthur yelled, losing his footing when he spun around to face the other. "You s-scared me half to death."
"I see you were daydreaming. Were you thinking about moi?"
"You wish, frog! Why is it you with my tea and not Alfred?"
"You called me, or do you not remember?"
"I did no such thing! I called Alfred on his company phone, you see-..." Arthur looked at the call log on his desk phone, and mentally slapped himself when he realized he had accidently punched in Francis' number instead. He turned back to Francis and sighed.
"Hand it over, then," Arthur demanded with his hand out, looking the other way.
"Not until you give me a kiss right here." Francis pointed to his cheek and winked at Arthur.
"Fine, I'll get it myself!" Arthur stomped towards the Frenchman and violently snatched the tea away. Some of it spilled on his hands, however, causing him to hiss in pain. He speed walked back to his table and set it down, blowing on his hands.
"Look what you did."
"I did nothing; you were the one who grabbed it like that."
"Oh, put a cork in it. Don't you have a job to do?"
"Yes, but you see I own my own business, so I am the boss."
"That doesn't mean you should neglect your work."
"I will worry about that later. What else would you like me to do?"
"I would like you to get out of my office and get me Alfred. I meant to call him, not you, so you best be off."
"Why must you keep him by your side? If he's not there, do you not feel complete? Do you always have to be with him, like some child to his mother? You should be loved by a man who knows how to love you, not a child like him."
"You do not have the right to talk about Mr Jones like that!"
"Oh? I thought he was your dear Alfie or Alfred. Why would you call him such an unfamiliar name?"
"I must address him like that when we are in a professional setting."
"But as of right now, we are having a friendly conversation since working hours haven't started yet."
"It was a slip of the tongue!"
"Or do you really call him that? Do you even like him, Arthur?"
"That is not for you to know."
"Oh, so you don't? Then why do you keep him around?"
"I mean, of course I like him. He's my partner, and I plan to marry him one day."
"No, you don't. I know when you are lying, Arthur."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, but I know more than you give me credit for."
"Then what could you possibly know?"
"That you are starting to have romantic feelings for Alfred."
"If you left out the 'are starting to' part, then that would be true."
"Enough with the lies! I know that your relationship is staged!"
Silence.
Arthur could not allow any sounds from coming out of his mouth. He was in a state of shock that would take hi a while to get out Arthur has to options at this time, to deny everything; but that would make him more suspicious. Or he could accept the fact that Francis found out. To Arthur it shouldn't really have been a shock to know that Francis knew their dirty little secret.
Even when the Brit was dating the French man, he did always have an act for knowing what was up with anyone when it came to love; even if it didn't concern him. Taking the cup back into his hand, Arthur took a sip of the warm tea to help him think more.
Closing his eyes and making a typical 'Ah' sound once down with is sip, Arthur placed the cup to its original place.
"What proof do you have?"
"This." Francis threw a small tape recorder to Arthur, having it replay the recorded conversation.
"I-I thought no one was able to hear us."
"You thought wrong, mon cher. When it comes to love, I am very persistent in getting what I want."
"No wonder Alfred was acting so strange during that one date at the amusement park. You must have told him before you told me."
"Ah, but what better way to warn your dear Alfred to watch out?"
"You're evil!"
"I thought you already knew that. I am vicious for l'amour."
"Get out of my sight."
"You may say that now, but soon you will be the one coming back to me."
"GO!"
And with that, Francis was out the door. Arthur returned to his seat, slouching as he rubbed his temples. Great, more stress. Just remember, Arthur, personal drama can wait. It's best not to think about it when you have so much work on your hands. What time is it, anyway? Arthur pulled down his sleeve to reveal his watch.
6:08. People didn't usually start to pile in until seven or so, meaning Arthur had a lot of time to himself. He picked up his phone and dialled the correct number. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, Arthur finally heard the other end pick up. There was a sound of shifting fabrics and a groan before a voice was heard.
"President, what are you doing up so early?"
"That is none of your concern, what you should be worried about is heading over to my office."
"Why? Work doesn't start for another hour or so."
"It's important. Also, as a secretary you should come to work at the same time as your boss."
"Seriously? I might be your temporary secretary, but I am a lawyer."
"Yes, yes, details, just get over here." Arthur ended the call and continued with his work, waiting for Alfred's arrival.
Climbing out of bed ever so lazily, Alfred rushed to get himself ready and jetted off to the law firm.
Alfred clenched his brief case with a tired sigh and made his way to his boss. He shut the door behind him as he entered Arthur's office, wondering what on Earth he could want now. It was as if the Brit was never pleased, and things only seemed to be getting worse as they stayed in this fake relationship.
Now sitting down on the leather couch, Alfred waited for Arthur to acknowledge his existence. Soon enough, Arthur stopped typing and writing and looked up at Alfred.
"Alfred, you know Francis, yes?"
"Yes, of course," Alfred responded professionally, but only because he was at work. If not, he probably would have given his easily tempered boss a smart remark.
"Well, not long ago, he told me that he knows about our secret, and that you knew this before I did."
"…Yes, that's true, but I couldn't tell you. I didn't want you to cause a scene."
"Understandable. However, we must be-"
"No need to tell me that, president. Francis and I are friends now; he even promised to keep our secret on the down low," Alfred lied.
"How can you be so sure?"
"A promise is a promise. No man should ever break his promise, just like no girl should. You need to have more faith in people."
"You are oddly optimistic about all of this."
"Well, yeah, why not? I like looking on the bright side because there's always a better view there. Since I'm here, is there anything you wanted me to do? Or anything you would like to tell me or something?"
"Yes, in fact, there is."
"Shoot."
"From now on, I want you to neglect your lawyer job. I will have someone else fill in for you. You are to work as my full time secretary until Martie comes back. Everything from the first time still applies, meaning you should always answer your phone by the third ring. Most of the time, my calls will be important. I also want you to understand that you are to stay with me whenever we go out on business."
"President Kirkland, I have something to say."
"And what is that?"
"…N-nothing, never mind."
"Then why did you say you did?"
"It was just really stupid, I shouldn't have said anything."
"That's alright. Now do as you are told and do your job."
Nodding his head, Alfred left the room and went back to his old desk outside of his boss's office. I didn't have the heart to say it now, but when that time comes what should I do? Arthur and his father need me, but with everything that's happening, will my decision be the right one? Alfred asked himself as he shuffled into his isolated area.
Eight o'clock rolled by quickly as more and more employees piled in. Alfred greeted each and every one of them with a friendly smile as he worked with all his might, somewhat in a depressed state.
Though he seemed happy, Alfred had a lot on his mind. It seemed like everything was happening too quickly. Big dramatic events were starting to become a daily part of his life, and he didn't know what to do about it. It was all too much for him. His heart ached every day, not knowing what he should do, and if he did then he wasn't sure if it was the right choice.
Alfred worked until nothing but work and himself seemed to exist. He failed to notice that time had flown by, and that it was already his lunch break. Dully, he stayed at his desk, continuing with his job until someone tapped on his desk to get his attention.
Alfred instinctively looked up and saw none other than Francis, smiling smugly. He scowled in return and tried to get back to work, but there was another tap at his desk.
"What do you want, Frenchy?!"
"We are friends now, non? I expect you to act like one."
"Well, it's kinda hard to be nice to the guy who was a total jerk to you in the first place, and still is."
"Oh, hush, that's in the past."
"…Dude, that was like legit a day ago."
"Let bygones be bygones."
"What do you want?"
"It is lunch time, so I was wondering if you would like to have some French cuisine made by moi."
"What's the catch?"
"Nothing. We are friends now."
"This is so weird, dude, I can't trust you."
"Ah, but I know you lied to Arthur, saying you can."
"How the hell did you know that?"
"It is so like you to say that, just to cover up the reason why you never told him I knew your secret."
"Am I that predictable?"
"Oui, you are."
"How long will this take? I'm the President's secretary, so I have to be back whenever he needs me; his orders."
"He treats you like a child."
"Yeah, tell me about it."
"Will you come with me or not?" Francis asked, his hand stretched out towards Alfred. At some point during this ordeal, Arthur was walking out of his office but stopped when he saw Francis near Alfred. He hid behind a fake tree, wanting to listen in.
He saw Alfred take Francis' hand, and Arthur had to resist the urge to jump out and attack the Frenchman for touching Alfred, since the American was indirectly his. Arthur followed their every move, drawn to the fact that the two of them looked like they had set aside their differences and were actually friends.
Still worrying for the other, Arthur picked up his phone and speed dialled Alfred. He anxiously waited for the other's reply, watching as the two disappeared from sight.
By the third ring, and still having no answer, Arthur started to come up with different worst case scenarios in his head. One was where Francis was taking Alfred on a romantic date, where he would take advantage of the poor, oblivious American. Another one was where they were simply going out as friends, but then Francis started bullying Alfred for being the one with Arthur in this scandal.
Panicking, Arthur quickly followed them, acting as their own personal stalker. Of course, being in the social media's spotlight, Arthur had to go out in disguise. He was wearing a large trench coat, shades, and had a fake curl on the side of his slicked back hair.
He peeked over his shoulder as Alfred and Francis walked into a recreation center, light on his feet and following them quietly. Listening to their conversation, Arthur took note of fact that they seemed to have known each other a long time before all of this, and that they also seemed comfortable around one another.
Studying what Francis was doing, Arthur could see that he was obviously cooking for the two of them. Meanwhile, Alfred was chatting up a storm to keep himself entertained. To Arthur's surprise, Francis was able to multitask, answering the Americans questions as he slaved over the hot stove.
Hunching down, Arthur texted Alfred a simple message.
Where are you?
All Arthur had to do now was wait for Alfred to notice his text. He glared at the man for about a minute until the American's cell phone set off, and then leaned forwards curiously. Alfred simply looked at the phone's message and closed it as soon as he was done reading. Amazed that Alfred had ignored his text, Arthur sent another one to see if there would be a different outcome.
I need you to do something for me.
This time when the American's phone went off, he replied quickly. Arthur heard the ding from his own phone and looked at the reply. Thus began their conversation, trying to make sure that Alfred wouldn't pay attention to Francis. Arthur feared that otherwise Francis would do something to harm Alfred out of jealousy.
What is the emergency? Is it that important? I'm on my lunch break.
Don't you dare question me, I'm your boss.
Sorry, sir. So what was the emergency?
…There's no more tea in the office break room.
Then I'll get some after lunch.
No, now!
Why?
Because I want tea now.
President, at least let me eat.
You can eat with me at the office.
I don't want to.
Why not?
I already live with you, and I'm with a friend.
Who?
Francis, duh. Matthew couldn't have come with me; he's in a different country.
I don't trust him.
Well, you should
Don't tell what to do; I'm the boss, not you.
Alright, but again, I'll get it after I'm done with my lunch break.
No, now.
If you want it now, why not ask someone else?
May I remind you what your current job is, which you are doing a horrible job at.
I do not suck at my job.
Oh, really? Why didn't you answer my phone call on the third ring?
It was on vibrate.
Why you…!
Goodbye, president.
Alfred closed his phone and looked back up at Francis with a joy filled smile.
"Who was that?"
"Oh, you know, President Kirkland," Alfred replied. He seemed to have completely forgotten the fact that Francis was an enemy, much to Francis' liking. Playing along with the friend like behavior, Francis placed food in front of Alfred and himself. He slid into the chair next to Alfred as the other started to stab the meat in front of him.
Watching Alfred eat, Francis felt his stomach churn. The more he watched Alfred devour the food, the more he wanted to be sick. He had to look away for a second and slap himself a few times, making sure he was in the zone for pretending to be a true friend. And what better way to do that than start another conversation?
Sliding his eyes to left, Francis could see someone in a black trench coat. He casually turned his head slightly, making it seem like he was looking at something next to the figure. This person looked a lot like Arthur, but Francis couldn't just jump to conclusions. Francis tried to get a better look at this suspicious person and smirked a little when he noticed bushy eyebrows under the slicked back hair. No other evidence was needed, and Francis turned back to Alfred.
Grasping his knife and fork, Francis quietly began eating too. Inside, however, Francis was trying to decide on what he could say or do that would alarm Arthur into revealing himself. If he did, Alfred would be disgusted and probably start ignoring him, causing Arthur to go into despair. Francis would then be able to pick him up during his weak state and seduce him once more.
However, Francis also knew that Alfred was a good person and would probably comfort Arthur. Cursing inside his head, Francis tried to think of another plan, but Alfred rudely interrupted him.
"Dude, you know what? For some weird reason, I don't feel like we're rivals anymore! It feels just like old times. The only thing missing is Mattie," Alfred said with food in his mouth, which Francis thought was revolting. Finally swallowing his food, Alfred gave Francis a closed eye smile.
"Say, when Mattie comes back, we should give him a welcome back party! I like parties, and it's the best way to celebrate the return of your brother and my friend."
"Wonderful idea, Alfred," Francis said, pretending he wasn't disgusted by the other's eating habits.
"When is the dude coming back again? I miss him too much, and why didn't you go?"
"Well, I already paid my respects during that period I could not talk to you, and Mathieu seemed set on going alone."
"Oh, well, okay then. So, how have you been?"
Here was Francis' chance. Yes, he knew that all of his blackmail and lies would catch up to him one day, but for now he would play with Alfred's innocent mind. Hiding a quick smirk, Francis put his silver fork down and faked his best pouting face. His lower lip quivered and he forced tears to come to his eyes. Francis knew that his acting skills wouldn't fail him.
Watching as Alfred's smile disappeared, Francis felt it was appropriate to talk now that the mood was established. Looking down with his hands in his lap, Francis felt a comforting hand slide to his back.
"What's up, dude?" Alfred asked sympathetically and lightly patted the Frenchman's back.
"Oh, it's just this whole situation we are in."
"I know, dude, but we can make it through."
"It's just that I can see Arthur acting different around you, while he is growing colder towards me. He used to admire me no matter what, but look at how he treats me now. He calls me such hurtful names."
"Well, t-that's just him, you know?"
"I know. To be completely honest, I've been watching you two lately."
"Um... okay..."
"Yes, sad but true, I can see that Arthur secretly adores you to some extent. I know I have been so mean to you, mon ami, but I beg you, please stay away from him. If what you say is true, and you don't have feelings for him, please give him to me. I would treat him much better than I did in the past."
"W-well..."
"Please, Alfred. You're a hero at heart. To see someone asking for your help, how can you deny something like that?"
"But the last time I talked to you about this, you said it was stupid and that we're rivals."
"I was blinded by my hatred; in fact, I only wanted you back as a friend."
"Dude, you barely even talked to me, too busy with the president."
"I know, but still… Why not go back to when things were simpler? When you and Mathieu were the best of friends, and Arthur and I were the best of lovers. Forget everything I said. Just please, let us have a fresh start. Please, you have to be the hero and save Arthur and me from a life of loneliness."
"Don't you think you're being a bit overdramatic?"
"Non, I am not!"
Francis pulled Alfred into a hug and cried on his shoulder, making sure Arthur could see everything. From over Alfred's shoulder, he could see Arthur squirming in his seat. He stayed in that position as he felt Alfred gently pat his back, waiting for the American to decide when to let go.
This chest to chest contact caused Francis to feel Alfred's heartbeat. It felt was as if the other's heart was suddenly working extra hard just to do its job. The first thing that popped into Francis' head was that the American was getting fat, and that even sitting down was a chore for him. However, when Francis thought about it more, his original hypothesis came to light.
Somehow, deep within Alfred's heart, the boy was beginning to return the Brit's feelings.
Jealousy surged through his heart, but was then replaced by… nothing. Inside, Francis knew he would not win.
He looked away from Arthur, genuine tears now sliding down his cheeks as he buried his face into Alfred's shoulder.
The two stayed in that position until Alfred suddenly grabbed Francis' shoulders and gave him a somewhat sad smile.
"I understand. I'll see what I can do. Though we may be rivals in your head, I still see us as old friends. We'll only become rivals if I fall for Arthur or if he confesses to me, but the likelihood of that happening is very thin, so cheer up! This isn't the big brother Francis I used to play with!"
Shocked by the American's kind words, Francis sat there with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open. He now felt that the tears running down his face were pestering him, so Francis wiped them away with a smile.
"You know, I don't know what came over me at the start of all this. Thank you for forgiving me for all of the bad things I've done and said."
"Hey, I can't keep a grudge if it wasn't that serious anyway, bro. Everyone deserves a second chance, you know?"
Smiling once more, Francis picked up his and Alfred's plates and went to throw away their leftovers. When he started to clean the dishes, Alfred came over and tried to help him with the clean-up. Francis denied this offer, however.
"Are you sure I can't help you?"
"Non, I will be fine. I'm sure you have something to do for Arthur since he is a very persistent man."
"Oh yeah! I have to get tea for the break room. Thank you for the food though, dude. It was, like, awesome." Waving goodbye, Alfred ran out of the room and glanced at his watch to see if he could make it back in time.
Arthur was stunned by Alfred's sudden dash outside the room and quickly tried to avoid him. He knew the race to get to work had started.
Endless beeps and the shuffle of feet surrounded the area that Kiku Honda was in. The Japanese man looked left and right, trying to find someone who could help him. He tightened his grip on the bouquet in his hand.
Now, it was normal for everyone to be busy around this time since it was lunch, but Kiku, however, found this gruelling. He had made many attempts to ask for help, yet he still hadn't received any. The squeaks of shoes sounded as people were being transported from here to there, and the dim lights illuminated Kiku's path.
He still had no idea where he had to go. This was one of the many reasons why Kiku hated hospitals. Though help was easily available for those who needed medical care, it seemed to take forever to get information from anyone.
Sighing, Kiku brought up a hand and wiped away the beads of sweat from his forehead.
Walking up to the information desk once more, Kiku huffed in frustration. He noticed flustered looking woman trying to help her, and Kiku decided he had to make sure he saw her, and that he saw her now. Though it was mean and rude, Kiku thought his mission was more important. Now finally standing directly in front of the woman, he politely bowed an apology to the others.
When he asked the woman for the room number he was looking for, Kiku bowed yet again and followed the directions the woman had given him. He walked down a long hall way, faced with many different twist and turns, and passed many different people who he ignored. Though he knew that he was supposed to be eating lunch at his work, making sure he could manage his two jobs, Kiku needed to see her, and ask her for advice and how she was feeling.
Taking his last right turn, Kiku walked until he reached a door numbered 789. He grasped the silver doorknob and walked into the room, pushing away a set of curtains inside to reveal a girl on a hospital bed.
His little sister.
Smiling, Kiku placed the flowers on the table next to her. He held the hand of the sleeping girl, preparing to speak quietly so that he wouldn't alarm her. However, before he could even open his mouth he was startled by the fact that she now had a breathing tube. The Japanese man shook his head, hoping it was some kind of illusion, but it was all too real.
With his smile no longer present, Kiku grasped her hand tighter, guilt falling onto his shoulders like ten pound bricks. He dropped his head with a sigh. He just couldn't cry anymore. It felt like an eternity since she had been sent to the hospital, but what was an eternity if there was a chance of her waking up?
Kiku blamed himself for Mei's condition, for the accident that had caused this. It was a cold day, the rain that hit the car every second only adding to the mood at the time. Kiku was picking up his little sister from her first day of high school, but he had been having a bad day at work. Arthur had fired yet another secretary for being constantly late and not fulfilling his needs.
Whenever Arthur needed a temporary secretary, Kiku would have to do it if he wanted to keep his job. This, however, much like Alfred, left Kiku tired from working three jobs. When Kiku drove up to the front of the school where Mei waited, he forgot to put the emergency brake on due to fatigue. The school was placed on a slightly high but not very steep him. Once Mei hopped into the car, she immediately felt the vehicle roll backwards.
In a panic, she had started to scream for her brother to help her. Kiku slammed down on the breaks, but they were already picking up speed too quickly. Knowing there was nothing he could do, Kiku removed his seatbelt and tried to make it to where Mei was.
Adding to the already terrifying scene, the car flipped over suddenly. Kiku and Mei were no longer wearing seatbelts, causing the two of them to be thrown around inside the car.
When the police arrived, they found Kiku unconscious with a fractured wrist, broken leg and sprained neck. Mei, however, got it far worse. Her body had somehow been flung out of car, since she was lighter than her brother, leaving her on the street a few feet away from the car wreck.
An ambulance then rushed them off to a hospital. Kiku stayed there for only three weeks before he was allowed to go home, as long as there was someone there to help him with his daily life. Mei, on the other hand, was in a coma. They told him it was up to her whether she would wake up or not.
Every day since then, Kiku has been waiting desperately for the day she would wake up.
Two years had passed since then. Mei would have been a junior in high school by now. Kiku took it upon himself to pay for her medical care, since he blamed himself for what happened.
"Mei, when wirr you wake up? You're missing a rot of schoor, you naughty girl. I was hoping to hear your voice again, but it rooks rike you're getting worse. …Maybe another time, then. I have been meaning to ask you something, though I know you won't be abre to help me.
A ferrow named Francis cornered me after a conference. He tord me that he would terr me everything I needed to uproad my blog, then my boss courd give me a raise. It was a generous offer, but I'm not sure if I should trust him.
I am already risking a rot by being friends with the one I am writing about, but Francis-san says that he can improve my work, since he wirr meddre in Arthur and Alfred-san's relationship. Everything feels so wrong, but it's the onry thing that can ret me pay the money so that you can survive.
Mr Kirkland is very mean, but Alfred-san seems to have carmed him down a bit. I just fear the day they find out I was going behind their backs with Francis-san to terr the media everything. Your brother is weak…" Slowly letting go of his sister's hand, Kiku stood up and began walking away from her once more.
Stopping for a second to get one last glimpse of his sister until the next time, he smiled. "Get werr soon. I'rr be the first to visit when you wake up, I promise."
Huffing and puffing as he made his way up the stairs, Arthur looked over his shoulder every so often to see if Alfred was still behind him. He couldn't use the elevator since it wasn't working at the moment. Even though his lungs felt as if they were constricting, Arthur was actually relieved that the elevator was broken. If it wasn't, he would have been worrying too much about Alfred's well-being.
He already thought about Alfred almost every second of everyday, Arthur would have gone insane if something like that were to happen. Slowly walking to the office break room, Arthur opened the fridge to get himself some water. Hunched over, too tired to stand up correctly, Arthur took his seat and started chugging down the bottle of water.
Arthur sighed in relief when he breathed in again, having finished about half of the bottle. Twisting his head to the side he saw more workers pile in for work, however the one he was looking for didn't come until a few minutes after him. Watching Alfred's silhouette come closer and closer, the Brit adjusted his sitting position from a slouch to an upright one.
Acting as if the mad dash to get back before Alfred was nothing, Arthur took another sip of his water. He eyed Alfred as the American walked to the cabinet, placing the tea where it belonged.
"Shouldn't you be in your office, President Kirkland?"
"Yes. However, I needed to make sure you arrived on time."
"Oh, really?" Alfred smirked as he walked towards his boss. He sat in the chair next to him and folded his arms on the table, allowing his head to rest on them. Alfred turned to Arthur and gave him a closed eyed grin.
"You were spying on me, weren't you?"
"Wh-what?! Of course not!" Arthur blushed, baffled as to how the other had found out.
"Then why are you wearing that?" Alfred gestured to the disguise Arthur had forgotten to take off.
"W-well, there could be reporters anywhere."
"Hmm, okay, but the next time you want to hang out with your old boyfriend you could just tell me, sheesh..." Alfred stood and started walking away without looking back at Arthur. His smile no longer occupied his face as he sighed, stopping at the door frame.
"I'm not sure if Francis is right… This is all too confusing. I need to act more professionally if I want to keep this job," Alfred whispered before heading back to his desk.
Arthur sat there, having a fit inside his head. 'How could he think that?! Why on Earth would I ever be jealous of him spending time with that frog? In my opinion, he should be spending more time with me! I am a far better choice. Let's see if I can change his mind… I am the boss.' With a smug grin, Arthur got out of his seat and decided it was time to show Alfred that he was the superior option.
There was no doubt in Arthur's mind that he wanted Alfred's attention all day, every day. For the first time in a long while, Kirkland had found a crush (love). He approached Alfred's desk, where he found the man writing some notes down from a phone call. Arthur grabbed his wrist and dragged him away from the desk.
Pulling him until they reached the stairs, Arthur patted the lint off of Alfred's shoulders, smiling as wide as humanly possible without looking creepy. He pointed at the American, his expression turning serious for a second.
"You're taking the rest of the day off. Do whatever you want, take the car, but make sure you get in it by seven o'clock, understand?" Arthur told him, his smile quickly returning. He patted Alfred's shoulder again and pushed him down one step encouragingly, waving goodbye as he left. Patting
Confused, Alfred went along with whatever was going through his boss's head. He knew that declining would just cause another fight.
Walking down the stairs silently, Alfred wondered what his boss was plotting. 'What is up with him lately? Actually, what's up with my life? Things are piling up way too quickly, I have no clue what's going to happen next or where this is going at all. Oh well… I guess I should talk to Mr Kirkland about Arthur.' Alfred nodded and turned, going the opposite direction Arthur would have wanted him to.
Up he went to his boss's boss and father, hoping that he was in a good mood. Before Alfred was allowed to see the boss of his boss, Alfred had to face the secretary. Like most people in the office now, if you didn't have an appointment with the boss or weren't called in, you had to go through the secretary first.
Honoring the code of the office, Alfred approached the woman who was signing off for a package. He asked her politely if George was inside, waiting as she leaned to her right to grab the phone. Alfred was asked to sit in the waiting room. Thanking the woman, Alfred obeyed and settled himself down on a couch. He tapped his feet and looked around, trying not to let his boredom take over too much.
A good twenty minutes passed, and Alfred was beginning to think George wasn't in. Just as he was about to get up, the secretary from before called him over. This made him get up twice as fast, and Alfred practically ran to George's office. Upon entering the room for the first time in months, Alfred sat in the same seat as before.
"You wanted to see me, Mr Jones?" George questioned as he looked Alfred in the eye.
"Yes. Your son, my boss, gave me the rest of the day off, so I thought that you might want some pointers on how to win his love back." 'Since it seems like everyone is obsessed with that lately'.
"Well, I am busy at the moment, but I suppose I can spare some time."
"Great, let's get started."
~Time skip to 7:00 pm~
"Why don't you leave with me? President Kirkland says that I have to be in the limo by seven."
"Well, that sounds delightful," George said with a smile. He followed the American outside to the car. As promised, the limo was waiting for them.
They slide into the passenger seats and the car started once they were in. After about five minutes of driving, Alfred looked out the window and frowned. This wasn't the way to their house. He looked to George, who didn't seem to notice, and then leaned closer to the driver.
"Where are we going, dude?"
"We are going to a secret location, as ordered by the young master Arthur. We should be there soon." Nodding his head, Alfred sank back in his seat. He tapped George's shoulder.
"Um, sir? The driver just told me that we aren't going home; Arthur's asked him to take us to some other place. I don't know why, though."
"Oh, well, I'm sure there is an important reason for that." 'Hmm… Could this have been a date that Mr Jones wasn't told about?'
"Well, okay then, sir." Alfred went back to observing the scenery outside the window. After a short while, he realized that they were slowing down. Still curious about their location, Alfred was the first to pop out of the car after they finally stopped. George followed him, trying not to make his own interest as apparent.
Eventually, the two were met by a butler at the front of their car. The butler bowed and escorted them away, past a glorious garden filled with many different breeds of flowers. Along with the patches of flowers, there were bushes that divided what Alfred assumed to be tables, considering the butler in front of him and the disembodied chatter around them.
Smiling to himself, Alfred still had no clue what was happening at all. To Alfred, this was all just a cool way of having dinner, another advantage of being in high society. The American observed his location once more, forgetting about the elder behind him. This didn't bother George, however, as he too was still trying to figure out what was going on.
Small lights shimmered inside the bushes surrounding them, their wires hidden so well that you would think pixies were there instead, watching everyone. Looking up, one could see that sky above was lit with similar lights, which were naturally light-years away. The smell of various pastas, beef and bread lingered in the air, making Alfred's mouth water.
Alfred walked faster to keep up with the butler, but quickly stopped when he noticed Arthur. Forest green eyes stared at him with a clichéd smile. He seemed to be holding a chair out, as if waiting for someone to take it. Directing his gaze to something other than Arthur, Alfred saw candle lights, rose petals, a gift neatly concealed by gold wrapping paper and topped with a red bow, a bouquet of flowers and last but not least, lanterns hanging from above.
Alfred was speechless; he didn't know how to comprehend what was happening. As Alfred tried to mentally sort things out, George arrived on the scene and had the exact same reaction. For George, this was awkward. He had been expecting a simple dinner with everyone who lived in his house, but no.
Right here, right now, George had unintentionally interrupted a date he had no idea was planned; neither did Alfred. He caught his son's gaze and saw the younger Kirkland frown, probably cursing internally. He turned his head towards Alfred, wondering how the man would react to all of this.
"I got it!" Alfred announced. "You knew I was going to be with your father, so you planned this little dinner so that we could all get along more! Way to go, Prez!"
Both Kirklands mentally slapped themselves. They looked at Alfred, questioning how someone so oblivious could be considered a genius.
"Yes, that's exactly what is happening, Mr Jones. Please, you and my father must take a seat," Arthur replied bitterly, trying not to show his irritation to Alfred.
The American hopped over and sat in the seat Arthur had pulled out, while the butler got another chair for George. The three sat at the table, glancing from the menu to each other.
Alfred, thinking this was all a bonding experience, smiled happily. He thought he was helping their relationship. He did not notice the two Kirklands glaring daggers at each other, trying not to fight in front of the unaware American.
"Hmm… Now that I think about it, this is kinda awkward; I'll leave." Alfred tried to stand up, but stopped when he noticed their drinks had arrived. He sat back down immediately and sipped his soda happily.
At some point during the quiet yet sticky situation, Arthur decided to get down to business; for it seemed as if every time he asked Alfred out on a date, someone had to ruin it.
"Father, what are you doing with…?"
"He invited me."
"Oh, is that so?"
"Totally! We were having way too much fun talking, so I had to bring him along; I also thought we were going home. Wait a second; didn't you plan this for bonding time?"
"To be honest, no. I was planning to reward you for working so hard in your secretary position."
"You are having him doing what?!" George boomed loudly, causing the restaurant to fall silent. He coughed into his hand awkwardly and picked up his water filled wineglass. Alfred then tapped the elder, giving him a 'mind how you act face'. Nodding, George looked back to Arthur.
"Why is it that I hear Mr Jones is working as your secretary again? That is not his real job."
"We made a bet, he lost, and Miles was leaving for a vacation due to family troubles."
"You should have hired a replacement."
"Mr Jones already knew the ropes, so I thought it to be an acceptable position for him."
"This is exactly why the company is falling behind, having Mr Jones as your secretary is a distraction. Honestly, you are getting way too attached to him, Arthur; this is starting to become unprofessional. I might as well have Alfred transferred to another branch of our law firm."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Food's here!" Alfred announced, laughing awkwardly to relieve tension and stop another fight.
As for the other two, they melted back into their chairs and started to attack their food, looking as if they were ready for an all-out brawl. Every crunch, every faint slurp and every wipe of their mouth was taken as a threat as the two stared at each other dead in the eye. Alfred sat there, unsure of how to fix the situation. He would have thought that his conversation with George had taught him a thing or two, but it seemed like this wasn't the case.
Soon enough, the two were finished with their meal and went straight back to arguing. Alfred watched dully, wanting them to stop. On the bright side, at least their voices were at a normal volume. Any casual onlooker would think they were simply having a conversation.
Sighing, Alfred looked at his watch and yawned. An hour and a half had passed since the two started fighting again. Alfred rolled his eyes and leaned forwards, towards the middle of the table, and then hit the two Brits on the top of their heads.
They both cried out in surprise. Alfred sat back again and crossed his arms.
"Okay, you two, we're here for some bonding, not fighting. If you two want to fight then do it somewhere else. You might be my bosses, but you're both hard-headed and stubborn to the bone.
Now, I want you to stop this right now. If I have to, I'll leave so that you can talk things out."
"No!" the other two yelled. They looked at each other.
"If someone has to leave, it'll be me." George stood and began walking away. "I can see when I am not needed; perhaps it would be wise for me to go home. Goodnight, Arthur, goodnight, Mr Jones."
"W-wait, Mr Kirkland, that's not how this is supposed to go!"
"Let him be. You said so yourself, we are stubborn to the bone, no use in trying to do the impossible." Arthur found a bottle of wine and brought it up to his lips, taking a swing of it to help him calm down.
"Hey! Drinking doesn't solve everything!"
"I know that, but as of right now I could really use one."
"Dammit, don't y'all ever have a day where you don't fight?"
"Yes, there are indeed such days; the days where we don't see each other." Arthur took another gulp of wine, hiccupping when he pulled the bottle away.
"Really?"
"Yes, really, you twit. Honestly, he's the one who started this whole thing anyway, coming here unannounced, glaring at me while I simply stared at him as I usually do, and then starting a pointless fight over pointless reasons."
"Why wasn't he invited? He is your father. I mean, even if this was for me, I still think you should have invited him anyway."
"That wasn't the point of this."
"Then what was? What was the point, president?"
"…It was so that I could tell you something."
"What?"
"Ugh, I can't say it now! I had it all planned, everything was going to be perfect until he showed up."
"…Well, if you're firing me, then this is a really cold way of doing it."
"I was not going to do that."
"Then what were you planning to do? That present there and all of this had to be for something. If it's not for bonding and congratulations, then what is it for?"
Arthur grabbed the bouquet and threw it to Alfred, who caught it and looked down at the flowers blankly. He arched an eyebrow.
"So, you want me to give these to Francis, right? Dude, do your own dirty work!"
"THEY AREN'T FOR HIM! CAN YOU JUST LISTEN TO ME BEFORE YOU START TALKING?!"
"G-geez, okay, I guess..."
"Those flowers," Arthur tossed the present to Alfred, "this gift, it was all for you."
"Wh-what do you mean?"
"I let you off work early so that you would be in a good mood. I planned for this dinner to be perfect. It was all to create the right moment, so that I could say this."
Gulping, Alfred held the items tightly. His heart was beginning to race and he felt his breathing grow heavier. 'This isn't what you're thinking, Jones, pull it together, he's your boss.'
Arthur took in a deep breath. With a determined look, he walked towards Alfred, moving chairs aside and staring straight into his eyes. The Brit adjusted his own suit slightly and tried to soften his expression.
"I have come to the conclusion that I am starting to fancy you. You're the only one who truly understands me, the only person I can talk to. Whenever you're not with me it just feels wrong. Though our relationship is supposed to only be for show, I feel as though it should be real. There is never a day that goes by where I don't think of you.
I haven't felt his way in such a long time; you're the only one who seems to have broken my cold, hard shell. I made you take my secretary job because that was the only way to have you with me as much as possible. And when we were alone, talking about our parents at the cemetery, I could see that you understood my pain.
So, Mr Jones, will you accept my feelings?"
Feeling his face heat up, Arthur knew what he was saying had been building up until bursting point. He had gotten everything off of his chest, but something still felt wrong. Should he have waited?
Arthur looked up at the taller blond. The other had not replied yet.
As for Alfred, the poor nineteen year old didn't know what to say. His cheeks were also rosy after what he had just heard. One part of him wanted to laugh at the other for making it sound like the cheesiest thing ever, the other half was cursing internally.
How did he feel about Arthur? Why did he have to say this at such a troubling time in his life? And why, of all people, did Arthur fall for an employee?
Alfred looked down at the flowers, and the still wrapped present, then back to Arthur. His mouth was open but no words came out. His voice had failed him. He turned his head away again, getting another glimpse of the scenery and realising the area did indeed look like something out of a romance movie. How could he have missed that?
'Dammit, Jones, why are you so stupid?! THIS WAS A DATE!'
Looking back to Arthur, Alfred gulped and tried not to show his emotions. Arthur may have only been feeling infatuation, something he figured Matthew had felt for him in the past, since they saw each other every day. It was simple to explain, really. Alfred had run into people with such feelings countless times.
Once, when he was working at McDonald's, a male around his age who he worked with was always nice to him. Alfred, being the oblivious genius he was, didn't notice anything; he just thought the man was being friendly. The man was hinting about his crush for the longest time, describing what the one he liked would do, when really that was what Alfred had done the previous day.
Alfred soon grew suspicious and asked the man who his crush was. The cat came out of the bag, the man told Alfred that he was his reason for living, that he was what made his life enjoyable. However, Alfred knew that, since they were both teens at the time, he didn't know what love really felt like. He told the man that he was only infatuated with him.
The man moved on eventually, and Alfred heard that he now had a husband; his real true love.
"I'm sorry, President Kirkland, but I can't." Alfred looked at him sadly and handed back the flowers and present. He gave Arthur a weak smile. "President, I know what you're feeling, and you can't like me that much. I mean, dude, we met like a few months ago, and we got caught in this scandal by accident.
If it wasn't for that, you wouldn't feel this way. But that's not the only reason why I cannot accept your feelings. The other reason is that this is very unprofessional. Kiku once told me that you fired your old secretary because she wanted a movie romance, so doesn't this make you kind of a hypocrite?
I can't let you do this. I can act the part of a lover, but as for being in an actual relationship I'm still a kid at heart. To be honest, I think I like you too, but I don't want people to think I get raises or promotions just because you're my boss.
I want them to view me as a hard worker and a pal, something you should also see me as."
Arthur's jaw dropped as he listened to these words. He wanted to cry so badly, but if he did that then Alfred would just pity the Brit and only go out with him because of guilt.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Arthur let the items he was holding drop to the floor. He placed a hand over his mouth, another on his hip, and began pacing a little. He tried to compose himself, taking in a few deep breaths, before turning to Alfred.
"So, I pour my heart out to you, and you say you have feelings for me, yet you cannot accept mine while I can accept yours?"
"My feelings are only on, like, a really low level."
"Harsh. I never expected you to be so cold in such a situation."
"Whatever is best for the company. I'm sorry, President Kirkland."
Alfred slowly made his way past Arthur, leaving him alone. He took a taxi the rest of the way home.
The moment he was gone, Arthur fell to his knees and started to cry. He couldn't stop, no matter how hard he tried. For the first time in so many years he had been able to express his feelings, but they were quickly thrown away like yesterday's trash.
Hot tears rolled down Arthur's face. He cried softly, not wanting to alert anyone around him. The bottle of wine was still on the table, and Arthur started chugging it down when he returned to his seat.
The only thing that kept him going was the fact that Alfred had said he had some feelings for him. No matter how small, those feelings could grow. All Arthur needed was time, time to make a plan so that he could win Alfred's heart and prove to him that he was serious.
Alfred hurried into the house in search of his room. Once there, he grabbed his laptop and began typing as fast as he could. Now finished with this, Alfred printed the document and starting packing his things. Within an hour, all of Alfred's stuff was in his old car. His two pets, who never seemed to be kept in cages, followed Alfred confusedly.
The American made his way through the labyrinth of hallways, only to find himself in the main building. Alfred sighed and speed walked to George's room, sliding the document on the floor once he reached it. He then rushed out of the house and started his car. He was going back to his old apartment.
On the other side of the door, George, who was working on a toy plane model, watched as a piece of paper was slipped under the door. He walked over and picked it up curiously. Placing it on his desk, next to his plane model, he eyed the paper curiously.
George unfolded the paper and allowed his eyes to wander through the words, but they quickly widened in disbelief. He ran through the door and headed straight for Alfred's room. It was true. His footsteps now slow and sad, he walked back to his room where the document lay for all to see.
Dear Mr Kirkland:
I thank you for everything you have done for me. However, it is with a heavy heart that I say this; tonight, after you left, your son told me he had a crush on me. I cannot help but think that this is something terrible.
With everything the company is going through, he has to concentrate on something other than love. Therefore, I am moving out of the house and returning to my original apartment. Please don't try to go after me and tell me not to do this. After tonight, I will have moved into another location, which also adds onto my other request, or rather, demand.
I resign my position as a lawyer. Though it is my dream job, I cannot work at a place where my talents are put to no use and I am simply made a secretary. Goodbye, and once again, thank you.
Sincerely,
Alfred F. Jones.
"Are you sure you're going to leave so early? The funeral is tomorrow," Matthew's mom said.
"I'm sorry, mom, but I need to go back to work. It feels wrong to be absent for so long."
"Oh, well, I understand. At least you came for the viewing. What time is your flight, sweetie?"
"It's in an hour. I'm sorry I have to leave, I really am."
"Well, come up to visit more and all will be forgiven."
"Okay, I'll try my best, eh. I've got to go now, you know airports."
"Of course."
"Fratello! Look, look!" an Italian man yelled to his older brother, who had been watching TV peacefully.
"What do you want, bastard?"
"H-hey..."
"What is it? You're ruining what little happiness I have left."
"I found Alfred~!"
"Are you sure it's not just some other blond?"
"No, it really is him, look!" He pulled out an old newspaper from a few months ago. It showed a picture of Alfred and Arthur. The other stared at the photo for a while before speaking.
"You're right. For an adopted kid, he sure looks a lot like Amelia… Well, don't just stand there, start packing. It's time to finish what we started."
Admin: Yes, Matthew is coming back! Yes, I brought the Italian brothers into it, if you know who they are you get a gold star! Also yes, Francis is a bit confusing but that will add on later.
Don't worry, I have a plan for everything that will happen these things happen for a reason. Please have more faith in me, this fanfic will end with the pairing I intended it to.
Please tell me who you are cheering on for to be in a relationship, and REVIEW!
Thank you, I love you all for reading my stupid story (^.^)