Holy shit. Deep breaths. Mmmm this is bad. I can't. Jesus. Shit. Fuck.

Never before in his life had Alfred ever been this nervous. Not like this. He'd run into battle with a musket for shit's sake and that had been nothing. After the first couple of times he'd barely broken a sweat. It was all sort of numbing after a while and hell, he was immortal. There wasn't much in the world that frightened him anymore. But this…this had him ready to run for the hills.

Someone knocked on the bedroom door. "Alfred?" Feliks. "You, like, okay in there?"

"Fine." Shit. He wasn't fine. Not even close. His palms were sweating and his heart was gonna crack a rib and he was standing in front of the wardrobe in his underwear because he couldn't figure out what to wear.

Plan B.

"Hey, Feliks!" He knew the nymph would hear him. "Can I be your Ken Doll real quick?"

Almost instantly the door flew open and the green-eyed blond was at his side, smiling hugely. "Yes!" His enthusiasm made Alfred chuckle despite the taller male's anxiety and he gestured at the wardrobe.

"Semi-formal dress code. A tie would be nice."

Feliks nodded before advancing on the wardrobe, muttering under his breath as he rifled through its contents. "Koszula sukienka…czerwony? Nie…ah! Fioletowy!" With a flourish, he pulled out a deep-necked sleeveless top, one that Alfred had worn for a photoshoot and hadn't touched since.

"Why that?" the American asked as the garment was tossed at him and Feliks went back to searching through his belongings.

"Because you're a model, Incubutt! More importantly, you're my model. Arthur's totally going to show you off to his friends and they'll ask you about your work. If you show up looking like every other boring human, it'll make me look bad as a designer. You're going to this party in style."

I'm going to kill him.

Tempting, tempting. But he'd asked the smaller blond to dress him so he couldn't really complain now that Feliks was choosing an outfit. He didn't have time to, anyway—it was already past seven.

"Just keep it…tame, all right?"

The look Feliks gave him after that comment would have cut a human in half, as if the nymph literally couldn't believe Alfred was doubting his abilities to put together the perfect outfit for him to wear to this party.

"Pokażę Ci oswoić… głupi diabeł…"

Alfred resisted the urge to smile and disguised his chuckle as a cough—if Feliks was annoyed enough to mutter at him in Polish then he was probably annoyed enough to abandon the American altogether. So he kept his mouth shut as a few more articles of clothing were added to his hands then allowed himself to be steered into the bathroom. Feliks turned the lights on and set about rummaging through the drawers.

"Dress."

Without a word, Alfred did as he was told.

Somehow, Feliks had managed to pick an entire outfit of things Alfred had worn once for various shoots and then put in his closet to never touch again. As good as he looked in the nymph's designs, there was no denying that it wasn't actually his taste so even though he got to keep the things he modeled, he rarely wore them. Besides, he never would have managed to put together a decent outfit on his own—fashion wasn't his forte by a long shot. It was just lucky for him that Feliks was used to dressing him, and as he stood before the mirror to examine the clothes he now wore, he couldn't deny that it was a good look. Not one he'd have chosen himself, but good, and subtle.

"There." Smug and satisfied, Feliks examined his work before attacking the taller blond's hair with a comb and a small amount of gel, styling it back out of his face. "No one ever said no to second-date sex, right?"

Sex? With Arthur? The nymph was kidding…right? He had to be. After their discussion on Monday, Alfred had been avoiding any sort of inappropriate thoughts about the Englishman.

"Uh, I don't think I need to worry about that, Fe," he muttered, straightening his jacket as his nerves came crashing back down on him. "It's a faculty party for a bank. There probably won't even be alcohol."

With a knowing look, Feliks led the way out of the bathroom. "You don't need alcohol. Besides, the way he flirts with you makes it totally obvious that he wants you. A man doesn't, like, text during a bath unless he wants the person he's texting to picture him."

The comment on his flirtations with Arthur and the Brit's bathing habits made Alfred's face turn red. "It's just for fun! He doesn't really—wait, how do you know about the way he flirts?"

Feliks laughed as he turned, hands on his hips. "You really shouldn't leave your phone lying around, Incubutt."

That's it, I'm killing him. Toris will hate me but I can live with that. This little bastard isn't waking up tomorrow.

"Oh, don't look so pissed. Smile. You're going on a date."

"Which he's about to be late for," Toris interrupted from the doorway. "It's almost 7:30, Al."

Blue eyes went wide and the American dashed for the front door, grabbing his keys, phone and helmet on the way. "Shit!"

"Have fun!" Feliks called after him just before the door shut.

Heart pounding with adrenaline, Alfred sprinted all the way through the hotel—he took the stairs instead of the elevator because he could honestly run faster than that machine would be able to carry him—and down into the garage. His motorcycle was waiting for him in one of the smaller stalls set aside specifically for bikes and he practically jumped onto it, bringing it to life a second later and leaving the garage with a screech of the tires.

Shit shit shit shit fuck me shit.

The last thing he wanted was to be late picking up Arthur.

X

Where was he?

Checking his watch yet again, Arthur frowned to see that it was 7:32 and Alfred had yet to arrive. The American had promised to pick him up at 7:30 "on the dot." He'd been right on time for their first date and he'd seemed to be looking forward to this one. What on earth could be delaying him?

I hope nothing's wrong…

Anything could have happened. He'd be tearing around on that dreadful bike again and what if he got in an accident? What if he was in the hospital? Or if he'd sick and couldn't make it? But no, if he was ill he would have called Arthur to let him know. So either something was wrong or the tourist was simply running late. As much as he disliked when anyone was late, Arthur was hoping desperately that it was nothing more serious.

To his relief, less than another minute went by before he heard that same roar as he'd heard on Saturday, and then came Alfred and his motorcycle flying around that corner at a speed that was probably illegal and definitely dangerous.

The git's going to get himself killed!

But Alfred had no trouble at all with slowing and pulling up to the curb in time to stop in front of Arthur's front step. His movements quick, he shut off the bike and stood as he removed his helmet, stepping up onto the sidewalk. There was an apologetic smile on his face and he pushed his hair back with one hand. Arthur couldn't help but stare.

"Hey, Artie. Sorry I'm late."

Late? Oh. Snapping out of it, Arthur returned the smile. "It's all right. Less than three minutes, and we have plenty of time to make it to the party. What kept you?"

"I, uh, I let Feliks dress me up and it took him a bit. How do I look?" He did a slow turn, arms up so Arthur could clearly see his outfit. The Brit swallowed. Though he had yet to meet Feliks, he was starting to get an idea of what sort of man he was based on the clothes he'd put on Alfred. Dressed in slim-fitting black slacks, a dark purple shirt that showed off his collarbone and fitted black jacket with his hair combed back out of his eyes, Alfred looked like he belonged on the front of a magazine. Even the way his glasses had slid down his nose a little looked effortlessly perfect.

"Great." Oh, god, he sounded like a lovestruck schoolboy. "I mean, you look, um, stylish."

The American chuckled. "Not too American?"

Blushing at the reference to his early tactless mistake, Arthur shook his head. "Definitely not."

"Good. You look nice, by the way," Alfred complimented, smiling that movie-star smile and making the shorter blond shuffle his feet.

"Thank you." As pleased as he was by his date's approval, Arthur knew he didn't look anywhere near as good as Alfred did. The American was clearly suited for his job as a model and while Arthur had dressed up a little for the occasion, he felt decidedly plain in his own slacks and waistcoat and simple button-down; even his bowtie felt silly compared to the other man's attire.

A grin appeared on Alfred's face and he stepped up to stand just in front of the shorter male, though Arthur was on the second-to-last step and so Alfred's spot on the sidewalk put them at roughly the same height. "Do I get a hello kiss?" he asked quietly, innocent blue eyes peering over the tops of his glasses.

Arthur felt his heart rate take off and thought he might melt under that gaze. His throat too tight for him to speak, he simply nodded and loosely draped his arms around Alfred's neck as the American leaned closer. Arms encircled his waist, pulling him forward just enough for his torso to press against the larger man's, and he lowered his gaze shyly. Smiling, Alfred kissed the Englishman's forehead then gently rubbed his cheek against Arthur's temple to encourage him to look up. When Arthur complied, the blue-eyed blond took the opportunity to kiss his nose, tightening his arms just slightly around that slender waist.

"Alfred…"

"Hm?"

His cheeks flushed and quickly growing darker, Arthur looked into blue eyes and took a calming breath before letting his own eyes fall closed as he leaned forward to press his lips to the American's. Immediately, the taller man returned the gentle pressure and then Arthur's mind began filling up with memories of their kiss in the tea shop, the way he'd needed to be as close as possible to this man and how they'd both been too shy to take it further even though they had both obviously wanted to. Thinking about it filled him with want and he realized that even as Alfred started to pull away, he wasn't ready for the kiss to be over yet, so he let out a sound of protest and used his arms to bring the bespectacled man back to him. To his delight, Alfred didn't protest, and another moment later Arthur summoned his courage; shyly, he parted his lips enough for his tongue to sneak out and taste the other man's lips.

"Artie."

Hearing his name being sighed like that sent tingles down the Brit's spine and he couldn't help but smile into the kiss. Now bold, his tongue roamed across perfectly soft lips until they opened to him, and then it was met by Alfred's own tongue. The touch had him pressing even closer and he retreated into his own mouth, though he made sure to invite the taller man to join him. Without missing a beat, Alfred invaded the golden blond's mouth and devoured the soft moan his action caused, explored the warm, wet space for a few moments before finding Arthur's tongue and gently encouraging it to come to life once more.

As the kiss continued, Arthur could feel himself slipping, felt his self-control starting to give way under the other man's talented mouth. Kissing Alfred was like being underwater—the world was muted and far away, as if they'd entered a universe all their own and the only thing that mattered was this man, the arms around his waist and the chest that was so warm he could feel it through Alfred's clothes and his own. And the taste. This universe tasted of peppermint and chocolate as if the American had been eating sweets mere seconds ago. It was perfect and bloody hell he wanted more of it, didn't ever want to leave this place away from the real world.

In the back of his mind, though, he knew he'd have to pull away eventually and did so after several long moments. He was breathing hard, his face flushed and eyes wide beneath furrowed eyebrows as he turned his face away.

"You okay?" There was concern in the American's tone as he tried to get the smaller male to meet his gaze.

"Y-yes…fine…" Smiling weakly, Arthur shifted back to put distance between their bodies, though he didn't pull out of Alfred's embrace. "I just needed to catch my breath."

Alfred gave an embarrassed chuckle. "Yeah, me too."

He'd made Alfred short of breath? It didn't seem possible and yet…yes, the taller blond's breathing was uneven. Incredible.

Pleased, the Brit offered another smile and placed a chaste kiss on the American's cheek. "We should get going."

Though he still looked confused and a little worried, the blue-eyed blond didn't argue. He released his hold on Arthur and stepped back, picking up his helmet. "All right."

A moment later the helmet was secure around Arthur's skull and both men were seated on the motorcycle, the smaller in back with his arms tight on the larger's rib cage.

"Just tell me where to go!" Alfred called over the roar of the engine once he'd brought the bike to life, and Arthur nodded. Gently, the bike pulled away from the curb and into the street before gaining speed. This time was decidedly less frightening than the first, and Arthur thought he might actually get the hang of this. Maybe he'd even ask to drive a little. Maybe.

"Left!"

Alfred nodded and made the turn, taking it easy so neither of them would get too windblown or disheveled before they reached the party. A few more shouted instructions later they arrived at a small but rather extravagant hotel and parked. Once the engine was off, Alfred offered a hand to steady Arthur as the Brit dismounted the bike before standing himself. The helmet was hung on one of the handlebars and the keys were tucked safely into his pocket before he checked his appearance. Slacks free of creases, shirt and jacket straight, hair still neatly styled back—good.

Now with a charming smile in place, the American turned to face his date and bowed slightly. "Shall we?"

Beyond pleased by the display of manners, Arthur blushed and nodded then took the arm that Alfred offered as he straightened. Together, they moved onto the sidewalk and made their way towards the hotel's front doors. Arthur barely managed to contain his excitement, forcing himself to look as calm as always as they passed through the doors and walked to the room reserved for the faculty party. Just wait until his coworkers got a look at his Plus One. He'd meant it when he said he wasn't trying to make them jealous but that he wouldn't necessarily mind if they were, and now he was certain he'd be the envy of more than one of the bank's employees.

The moment they walked into the room, several pairs of eyes turned to look and the Brit noted gleefully that those who had noticed them looked stunned. He was tempted to pause, to stand there with Alfred and smile because he finally wasn't the only miserable wretch who showed up without a date and he wanted his coworkers to know that he, Arthur Kirkland, was there with someone as devilishly handsome and charming as the tall blond beside him.

But that would be snobbish and borderline rude, so he merely took a moment to look around for anyone familiar before leading Alfred farther into the room. It was spacious, with several round tables set out with chairs for anyone who didn't wish to stand, and buffet tables along one wall. There wouldn't be a meal, of course, since most people ate earlier than this, but there would be snacks and drinks.

"Pretty fancy," Alfred murmured so only the Brit at his side would hear him, and Arthur smiled.

"The bank always hosts its events at this hotel—we manage their accounts, so it's sort of expected." No one had called to talk to him yet, so the green-eyed blond set his attention on the buffet tables and began examining the options. "It's a lovely spot."

"I see." Alfred let his gaze wander about the room and caught a few people looking at him only to quickly turn away when they saw that he'd noticed. It made him grin. "So, what happens at events like this one?"

"Once everyone's arrived," Arthur replied, leaning over the table to get a better look at a few of the snacks, "the bank's manager will give a speech about how well we've been doing, the goals we've met, goals for the coming year, important events and whatnot. A bit dry, but pleasant enough. He'll make a toast, and then we're meant to spend the evening socializing to form tighter bonds within the company. Events like this are supposed to help us make friends among the branches so that we'll be able to work together more efficiently. Personally, I find that most people use it as an opportunity to show off their dates and spend time with the few work friends they already have rather than make new ones." Unable to find a snack that looked appealing, he moved on to investigate the beverages.

The American couldn't help but grin and he snuck an admiring glance at the golden blond's rear as Arthur continued to lean over the table. "So, who are you going to show me off to?"

Chuckling, Arthur selected a glass of pinkish-orange punch and straightened before answering. "Just a few people."

"Well," still grinning, Alfred slipped his arm behind the smaller blond and settled his hand on Arthur's waist so he could pull him a bit closer, "I'll try not to embarrass you."

Smiling as he sipped his punch, Arthur leaned against the American just slightly. "That's the spirit."

TRANSLATIONS:

Koszula sukienka…czerwony? Nie…ah! Fioletowy!

Polish: Dress shirt…red? No…ah! Violet!

Pokażę Ci oswoić… głupi diabeł…

Polish: I'll show you tame…stupid devil/demon…