His grey shirt neatly tucked into black dress pants, white tie straight and tight and hair perfectly combed, Arthur walked into the bank with his head held high. He was even smiling a little, which was unusual for him because he took work very seriously and usually tried to show that in his appearance and expression and actions. But today he was smug. Today, he was going to let his coworkers know that he wasn't as boring as they all thought he was.

"Lookin' good, Kirkland," a voice called, and the blond turned his head to see a tall male with white hair and red eyes striding towards him. "Have a good veekend?"

Arthur's smile widened and he turned to face the approaching man. "Good morning, Gilbert. And yes, my weekend was…unexpectedly pleasant."

Interest lit up the taller male's eyes and he leaned against the wall of a cubicle, his lanky frame stretched out comfortably as he grinned. "Vhat vas so unexpected about it?"

Eyes falling halfway shut, Arthur tugged at his cuffs to straighten his sleeves. "I met someone."

"Really? Who?"

"A tourist," Arthur replied lightly, then continued on his way towards his office without so much as a glance at the other man. Even though there was no immediate response, Arthur had no doubts that Gilbert was going to interrogate him.

"Hey, Arzhur!"

There it was.

Quick footsteps sounded behind him but the Brit kept walking. He knew Gilbert would follow him all the way to his office now that he was curious. Within moments, the albino had caught up with him and slowed to match his pace.

"You can't say somezhing like zhat and just valk away, Arzhur," the taller male chided him, and the blond let out an amused chuckle.

"I think I can, actually." He enjoyed the fact that Gilbert was so curious about the person who had made his weekend "unexpectedly pleasant." It was nice to be able to walk into the bank with his head up for once, not that he ever went to work looking down. But today he'd appeared especially content and Arthur knew it, because after he'd sent that picture to Alfred yesterday afternoon, he'd felt like a bloody king.

Sexy photos were something he'd always wanted to try but not something he'd ever been brave enough or trusted his partner enough to actually do. Sending Alfred that picture had gotten him all but worshipped by the American and Arthur was still caught in the sense of victory.

Gilbert shut the door behind them once they entered Arthur's office, and he managed to hold back his questions until the slighter man had settled behind his desk. "Now, are you going to tell me about zhis tourist or do I have to steal your phone again?"

Ah, yes, he'd forgotten about that little habit of the Prussian's. There was no doubt in Arthur's mind that Gilbert would indeed filch his phone at the first opportunity and text any unfamiliar names he found in the contacts list—doing so would undoubtedly lead to the discovery of Alfred's number, and if he went through their messages, he would see the picture. The mere thought of Gilbert having that to lord over him made the Brit's ears burn and he discreetly patted his pocket to make sure his phone was still safe and not already in his coworker's overly talented hands.

It was probably best to give Gilbert enough information to keep him from theft, though Arthur had zero intentions of telling his white-haired coworker everything. That would take all the fun out of this.

"I met him on Friday night."

One of Gilbert's eyebrows went up and he placed his hands on the surface of Arthur's desk, leaning his weight forward on them so he was only about a foot away from the other man. "Vhere?"

"A pub." Arthur feigned disinterest, instead opening his briefcase and preparing his papers and folders for his first task of the day. "I stopped in for my usual drink after work."

"So he vaz zhere und you vent to talk to him?"

A distracted shake of his head was the only answer Arthur gave, and he could already tell Gilbert was losing his patience and getting more curious.

"C'mon, Arzhur, tell me vhat happened!" Gilbert was almost whining and it put a smirk on the golden blond's lips. Sighing, he leaned back in his chair and met red eyes with green.

"I was minding my own business when he came up and started talking to me. Satisfied?"

"Nein, I'm not satisfied. If zhis guy made your veekend pleasant, zhen zhere has to be more to it zhan zhat. Tell me about him."

"Why?" Arthur let a sly smile take over his features. "You'll meet him on Thursday, regardless."

That seemed to catch the albino off-guard. "You're bringing him to zhe faculty party?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. I think it'll be interesting to see him meet my coworkers and friends…it will only be our second date, after all."

"Second?" Gilbert grinned. "How vas your first? Did he ask you out in zhe pub? Vhere did you go?"

With a patient sigh, Arthur began shuffling through his papers once more and got his desk a little more organized so he wouldn't lose track of anything important. "It was lovely. Yes. A restaurant on Canary Wharf."

"Vhat does he look like?"

"He's American."

It was quiet for a moment as Gilbert stared at the seated man. "Zhat doesn't tell me anyzhing!"

"He's also a model, if that helps." The casual tone he used caught Gilbert by surprise and he straightened, blinking and frowning.

"You're bringing an American model to zhe faculty party on Zhursday as your Plus Vone."

Leaning forward, Arthur braced his elbows on his desk and laced his fingers, resting his chin on them. "Yes. Is that a problem?"

Gilbert shook his head. "Of course not. I'm just surprised—an American model visiting as a tourist. I didn't know you had zhat much game, Arzhur. I'm impressed."

Pleased by the compliment, Arthur chuckled. "I admit, I was a bit surprised myself, though I'm far from disappointed. He's very kissable, after all."

"You kissed him?" Gilbert's tone was one of pure disbelief. "You, Arzhur Kirkland, prude extraordinaire, have already kissed zhe man you met two days ago?"

"I didn't say that. I said he's kissable. That's quite a difference, Gilbert." He paused, frowning slightly. "And I'm not a prude, I simply like to take things at a more leisurely pace than you do."

That made the albino laugh and he slipped his hands into his pockets, grinning. "Ja, if I'd met zhis tourist, I might have slept vizh him by now."

He wouldn't turn you down.

Arthur surprised himself by thinking it. There was no reason for him to think that Alfred would sleep with Gilbert if he was given the chance. But then, why shouldn't he?

He's young and handsome and charming, and on vacation. Why shouldn't he enjoy himself a little? If he hadn't met me in that pub, he easily could have hooked up with almost any of the other people there. But he chose me, and even after I turned him down for what he wanted, he still asked me out. And he ignored that waitress, so maybe he wouldn't have slept with Gilbert. Or am I a fluke? He didn't seem like he was looking for a boyfriend when we met…

Thinking about it was giving him a headache so Arthur shoved the thoughts away and focused on his work once more. Why on earth was he suddenly having doubts? Part of him didn't want Alfred to meet Gilbert now because of that comment, but he couldn't exactly stop it from happening if he wanted the American to come to the faculty party with him. And yet the thought made him nervous. What if Alfred decided he was more attracted to Gilbert than he was to Arthur? If Gilbert came onto him, would he say no? It was nice to think he would react just as he had to the waitress, but he would probably want to be nice to Gilbert to make a good impression on Arthur's friends.

Bloody…get a grip, Kirkland. Alfred won't do anything with Gilbert.

Something tapped Arthur's forehead and he blinked a few times before looking up to find Gilbert staring at him in concern. "What?"

"You spaced out on me. Somezhing wong?"

The Briton smiled and shook his head. "No, just lost in thought. Sorry. Did you have any more questions?"

"Tons." Gilbert chuckled. "But zhey can vait, I guess. Zhursday isn't zhat far avay."

"Only a few days," Arthur replied, smiling back at the other man.

Despite Gilbert's claim that he could wait to satisfy his curiosity, it was easy to tell that the albino was dying to know all about the mysterious American model tourist Arthur was purposefully being so vague about. But he was a stubborn man and wouldn't waste much of his time prying now that Arthur had made up his mind. The Brit could be as stubborn as Gilbert could, so they both knew he wasn't going to say any more than he wanted to.

"Vell, I'll see you at lunch, Arzhur," the taller male grinned, winked and then left, his hands tucked into his pockets as he all but swaggered out of the office. Arthur couldn't help but chuckle, amused as always by his coworkers' antics.

Before getting to know Gilbert, he hadn't quite understood how the albino ever managed to get a job at a bank. He was cocky, almost arrogant, and loud. Arthur's first impression of him was that he would be pushy and get on clients' nerves. But, somehow, the Prussian managed to make friends with almost everyone who walked in those doors. He was a valuable clerk and knew a great deal more about business than he let on, and he was extremely organized despite his laid-back attitude.

Only a few days.

Thursday couldn't come fast enough.

X

I can't believe he sent this to me.

Blue eyes were locked on a small screen, examining the image there.

He's been so proper this whole time and now this? Damn, this guy's full of surprises.

Shaking his head, Alfred put his phone down and forced himself to focus. What was he on? Thirty-four? Yeah. His muscles tensed as he lifted himself on the floor and quickly lowered again, almost but not quite touching the rug.

"Thirty-five."

Up then down.

"Thirty-six."

Again.

"Thirty-seven."

Only thirteen to go and he'd be done with his second set of pushups for the day. Already, he'd gone for a run—over five miles—and stopped in the hotel's gym to lift weights and explore the equipment. The only thing he had left after this was his third set of one hundred curls for the day. Normally, his workouts didn't take as long as this one was, but he kept getting distracted. The photo Arthur had texted to him the night before plagued his thoughts and made him lose track of his counting. He'd already looked at it more times than he could count since he'd woken up.

"Forty-eight. Forty-nine. Fifty."

Satisfied, the American pushed himself up and stood, a slight grin on his handsome face. His limbs trembled slightly with the exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm him after such a long workout, but he paid it little mind. He'd be fine in less than an hour since he recovered so quickly. By the time he showered and found something to eat, all of his energy would return.

His movements swift, he bent down and picked up his phone then left the living room in favor of his temporary bedroom, heading straight for the bathroom and its shower. Toris and Feliks were out for the day, so he had the hotel suite to himself. So far, he'd taken the time to work out and hadn't done anything else, but the nymph and faerie wouldn't be back for hours yet so he wasn't in a hurry to get anything done before they returned.

Almost without meaning to, he clicked his phone's photo storage open and selected the image. How had he managed to find someone like Arthur? It still amazed him that the Brit had admitted to being worried he would lose his self-control around the American—he was pleased by it, all the same—and then sent him this picture. Really, it was one of the sexiest pictures Alfred had ever received, and he couldn't even see that much. The bubbles covered the majority of Arthur's anatomy, and only his shoulders, arms, head and knees were above the surface of the water. Still, his hair was damp and pushed back out of his face, his pale skin glistened with water and his expression was somewhere between an innocent smile and a playful smirk that Alfred couldn't figure out but it drove him mad.

This guy is nuts. He's crazy. How can he go from lecturing me about being cocky in that pub, then kiss me three times on our first date the next day, and now send me a dirty picture after basically admitting that if we took a bath together, we'd have sex?

"I don't have a clue what I'm doing," he admitted to his reflection, "and Arthur's calling all the shots. I can't even get my bearing before he switches things up again."

Resigned to being all but helpless in this almost-relationship that Alfred had somehow gotten into, he closed out of the image yet again and put his phone on the counter. One article at a time, he removed his clothing—athletic shorts, boxers and a worn old t-shirt with the sleeves cut off—and stretched extensively.

"Mm…" It felt good to work out and stretch like this, and he didn't mind being a little sweaty. Sweat could be sexy if you did it right, and Alfred definitely did it right. Even looking at himself in the mirror, at the way his hair was darker than normal, damp and messy, the drops of sweat that had yet to cool off and dry that only made his muscles that much more noticeable. And of course, having just finished working out, his muscles were even more defined than normal.

Alfred wasn't the type to compliment his own reflection, but he knew he was attractive. Came with the territory of being an incubus, after all. Still, the moment he took off his glasses and turned from the mirror, his own appearance vanished from his thoughts and he was thinking of Arthur again. Just picturing the Englishman sprawled out in a bathtub, surrounded by candles and sipping wine he described, made Alfred feel warm. And that was a surprise.

He wasn't hungry. Feeding from Feliks and Toris would keep his incubus appetite satisfied for a few days, at least. And yet thinking about Arthur was making him…horny.

I haven't been horny since I hit puberty as a human. Incubi don't get horny. We get hungry and that's it. Sex is for food, not for pleasure or because we're attracted to someone. How the fuck does Arthur make me horny?

It didn't make sense. In all his years as an incubus, he'd never encountered this before. Feeling it now was confusing and a little bit frightening. Yeah, he'd known from the start that Arthur was different because the human somehow hadn't fallen for his charms. The way he'd flirted with him, the Brit should have been tripping over himself to accept Alfred's offer. But, instead, he'd been offended and even had the nerve to scold a complete stranger.

He's special. There's more to him than I thought.

And still, as he turned on the water and began rubbing shampoo into his hair, eyes closed to protect them, he couldn't help but continue thinking about the paler man. His body felt hotter than he could ever remember it being without the sun or exercise or sex to warm him up. Not even the water was warm enough to make him feel so over heated.

"Damn."

Glancing down, he knew he was in trouble. There was no hunger raging in his skull and yet he was hard as if he hadn't fed days. What the hell was going on? He was aroused by the mere thought of Arthur! Yeah, okay, so he'd admitted to Feliks that he didn't want to use the green-eyed man for food, that he thought maybe he'd actually make love with him, but he hadn't expected it to work. That had been wishful thinking and little more, and yet…

Could I…?

It was worth a try, he supposed. If he could get turned on thinking about Arthur, then shouldn't he be able to get off thinking about him, too? He hadn't masturbated since his teenage years as a human…would it even work, now that he was an incubus? He'd tried it before and it had never done anything for his hunger, but this wasn't hunger. This was arousal and being horny because damn Arthur was a sexy little bastard and he was good at kissing and when he acted all superior and a little bit bossy like in that restaurant after Alfred made him the Boss, it was irresistible.

The more he thought about it, the more Alfred wanted to try. He wanted to know if he could satisfy his desire for Arthur on his own, at least temporarily. If he could, there was a world of things it could mean, and that made him nervous. Stalling for time, he scrubbed himself thoroughly, making sure to remove every trace of sweat and oil and general filth from his body.

I'll try, he decided as he rinsed the suds from his hair and body, let the warm water run over him and to the floor. It was a large shower, definitely big enough for him to do this in, and if he was going to masturbate he was gonna do it in the shower where it would be easy to clean up. If it doesn't work then it doesn't work, and I'll just have to ignore it until I calm down. No more looking at that picture or thinking about Arthur. But if it works…I'll have to find dear old Dad. He's the only one who knows enough about incubi to make any of this make sense.

His mind made up and his body now clean, Alfred took a deep breath and slowly lowered himself to kneel on the shower floor, sitting back on his heels. Time to see if Arthur really was as different as Alfred wanted him to be.