As soon as he opened the door to the hotel suite, Alfred tasted the lingering traces of pleasure that laced the air.

Hungry.

Hell, not now. He didn't want to feed right now, he wanted to shower and relax and reminisce the memories he'd acquired of Arthur that morning. The Brit was adorable even when he was hungover, and when he'd first come into the kitchen…

Alfred didn't know how he'd managed to hold himself back. Being able to sense the arousal of other beings had always been useful to him as an incubus, but with Arthur it was like a curse. No one would have been able to devise a worse form of torture than for him to be around the smaller blond and know when Arthur was aroused or even just a little horny and have to act like he had no idea and do nothing about it. It had taken him a little off-guard to be hit so suddenly. His senses had been overwhelmed. The fact that he hadn't abandoned breakfast and ravished Arthur where he stood was a miracle in of itself.

Luckily, the Englishman had calmed while they ate, and by the time Alfred had dropped him off at the bank, there had been hardly a hint of Arthur's earlier excitement. Even less than now filled the hotel rooms, and despite the fact that the lights were off, Alfred had no trouble finding the source.

Naked and tangled in each other, Feliks and Toris lay on one of the couches, nearly asleep in their post-coital bliss. The sight was enough to make Alfred want to lick his lips. All that bare flesh and warmth, supple bodies already sated but always welcoming should he need to satisfy his immortal appetite. His friends were a sight to see, and after the trying morning he'd had, he was in need of a little attention.

Without a word, the tall American dropped his keys on the table just inside the door and shrugged out of his blazer. The bodies on the couch stirred and two pairs of eyes peered at him through the darkness, watching as he moved closer and dropped articles of clothing on his way. By the time he reached the couch, he was only wearing his boxers, and the nymph and faerie had rearranged themselves so that he could sit between them. Arms wrapped around his neck and Feliks nuzzled his cheek.

"How was your date?" the green-eyed nymph asked, tilting his head and giving Alfred a quizzical look.

"It was great, but Arthur was horny this morning and after resisting that, I'm starving."

Toris shifted onto his knees and rested his cheek on the model's shoulder. "Why'd you resist? I thought you wanted him."

"I do, but I'm not just gonna fuck him in his kitchen while he has a hangover. If I wanted it to be that one-night-standish, I'd have done him last night when he was drunk and making me strip him."

"He made you strip him and you still haven't nailed him? You're losing your touch, Incubutt."

Alfred rolled his eyes and stretched his arms back to let them rest along the back of the couch. In response, his companions snuggled into his sides and hugged him around the middle to steal some of his body heat.

"I'm not losing my touch, Fe. Arthur's just worth more than a meal."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." The nymph looked up at him again. "Did you at least have fun? Are you going to keep seeing him?"

"I had a great time. His friends are really cool and the more time I spend with him the more interesting he gets. I'm pretty sure I gained his trust last night and this morning, so yeah, I'll see him again."

"Of course he trusts you. He drank around you," Toris pointed out, earning a smile from the American.

"Yeah."

"So he was horny this morning?" Feliks was too curious to resist asking. "What, like, happened?"

Still hungry but not to the point of losing his patience with the conversation, Alfred let his arms fall forward and around two pairs of narrow shoulders. "I'm not sure. I was making breakfast and he came in to eat and suddenly he was flooding me with it and I almost can't believe I didn't fuck him. He calmed himself down pretty quickly but that was one of the best and worst breakfasts of my long-ass life."

It was quiet for a few moments as Feliks shifted to tuck his legs under himself and rested more fully against the American sitting beside him. "When are you going to see him again?"

With a shrug, Alfred buried his face in blond hair and breathed in the familiar, comforting scent of the fire nymph. "Whenever he wants."

"You're spoiling him, Alfred," Toris half-teased, and Feliks giggled.

"Of course he is. Our Incubutt's a genuine-born gentleman." The nymph was obviously proud to be able to say that, even though he was being mostly playful. "He's the most considerate lover Arthur will ever have."

The two mythicals shared a look and grin.

Moving slowly, Toris sat up straighter and began kissing Alfred's shoulder as one of his hands rubbed across the incubus' chest. "Especially if Arthur's his mate."

"Lucky bastard," Feliks purred, his attention going to the bespectacled blond's neck. "Being your food is one thing. I can't even, like, imagine what being your mate would be like."

"Heavenly." Toris cooed the word and caught the curve of Alfred's ear in his teeth to tease and lick.

Trapped between the pair the way he was, Alfred didn't have much hope of escape, and he didn't want to. Feliks and Toris might have been mates but they took advantage of his particular set of needs whenever he gave them an opportunity. It was "a special sort of kink for them," as Feliks had once put it. Apparently, the nymph and faerie rather enjoyed watching each other get off, even if it wasn't with each other. Alfred didn't usually indulge them, but since he'd met Arthur, he didn't want to feed off just anyone. What if the Brit saw him flirting with someone else? He didn't want the man to think he was toying with him, so he was limiting himself to what Feliks and Toris were only too willing to give.

Today, it seemed they wanted to give him a second breakfast with a heaping helping of compliments on the side.

X

It was noon and Arthur should have been hungry, but after the amount of food Alfred had made that morning, his stomach wasn't ready for more yet. He'd still gone on his usual lunch break, which meant a short walk to a nearby café to enjoy some fresh tea and relax until his meal was ready. Warm buttered bread sat on a plate in the center of the table, a small one set for two, and he ate a few bites between sips of tea. His usual lunch was lemon-grilled chicken breast and steamed vegetables with light seasoning, enough to tide him over for the rest of the work day but not enough to make him feel over full and sluggish. It might be a little much today, but that was all right. The walk back to the bank would be enough to wake him up.

"More tea, sir?" The waiter appeared so suddenly that it almost started him.

"Yes, thank you." Arthur watched idly as his cup was filled with new tea, steaming and giving off a delicious aroma. This café had quickly earned his favor through the tea they served and the manners of the staff.

It shouldn't take much longer for his food to arrive. His meal wasn't complicated and it was never a long wait. Today, he wouldn't have minded if it took a little longer than normal. That would give him time to digest a little more breakfast, and he rather liked sitting quietly with his tea and bread while he enjoyed the weather.

Blue skies and a warm breeze. Clouds probably lurked behind buildings but he didn't dwell on them. There would be time for the rain if it decided to come and until then he wouldn't worry. What would be the point in ruining his good day?

Lovely day. Brilliant day.

Walking up had been unpleasant but Arthur still wouldn't have bothered complaining about that. Everything after—Alfred making him breakfast and driving him to work—had been unexpectedly perfect. Even work itself had been going well. Gilbert hadn't arrived at all and was probably at home trying to sleep through his hangover, so Arthur hadn't had to put up with any teasing. Rather, his coworkers had found opportunities to compliment him on his date. It had been a boost to his self-confidence to be sure, but now that he had a few moments to think, he was even more surprised at himself for his imaginings that morning.

Kitchen sex? Before work? Waking up next to him? Two dates, Arthur, that's all.

Yes, he'd decided to go on this whirlwind romance adventure, and Alfred seemed so perfect that sometimes it was hard to believe the man was real. But he was getting way ahead of himself here, and Arthur was starting to think that perhaps he needed to take a step back and examine the circumstances. An adventure like this didn't mean he was supposed to lose his head and his dignity. What would he think of himself if things didn't work out with Alfred? If he let himself get carried away and slept with the American, was more reckless than he had been since his adolescence, and ended up with nothing to show for it but a bruised heart and shattered ego?

"Here you are, sir. Enjoy." Arthur was too deep in thought to acknowledge the waiter or the fact that his food was now waiting for him to eat it. A whirlwind romance adventure sounded great in theory, and all the flicks and novels made him want to think it would work out, but he'd never been good at this. The fact that Alfred had even wanted a second date was almost a miracle in of itself.

"Hey, Kirkland, zhought I'd find you here."

The familiar voice dragged the Brit out of his brooding and he looked up to see Gilbert walking towards him. There were bags under his red eyes and he didn't look quite as put together as he usually did for work, but he was dressed formally and Arthur guessed the man had taken the morning off to recover and had decided to come in for the afternoon.

"Hello, Gilbert," Arthur greeted before sipping his tea—luckily still warm—then picked up his silverware and started cutting the chicken into bite-size pieces.

"How ya feelin?" With a grin, Gilbert occupied the empty chair across from Arthur and waved down a waiter so he could order a coffee.

"I'm all right."

"Have a good night?"

"I didn't shag Alfred, if that's what you're asking." His tone was a little sharper than he meant for it to be, but Gilbert paid it no mind and rolled his eyes.

"I zhought you vanted to screw him. He's hot. Vhy vouldn't you?"

"Because I'm not a hussie and I don't shag on the second date. That's your territory."

"Hey, be fair," the albino scolded lightly, "I've been dating Roderich for almost a year. My promiscuous days are over."

That was true enough, and Arthur knew how much of a difference the prim and proper Austrian had made on his friend. Gilbert had settled down a great deal since meeting Roderich. "It's still too early. I haven't known him for nearly long enough."

"But you do vant to, don't you?"

Of course he did, but did he want to admit that to Gilbert? Then again, the Prussian was the only person Arthur knew who might actually be able to help him understand himself.

Glancing around, Arthur leaned forward over the table and lowered his voice, "I do, but that's the problem."

Gilbert mimicked his friend's posture and tone. "How is zhat a problem?"

"You know how I was in high school," the Brit began, and a large smirk appeared on the other man's face.

"Ja, Griffin," Gilbert said the name with a suggestive tone that made Arthur's face turn a particularly embarrassed shade of red.

"Yes, well, I thought I'd outgrown all that quite some time ago. I'm a respectable man with a respectable job and I have very few souvenirs of my youth left over."

"Vhich is not awesome," the albino pointed out, and Arthur sighed.

"Right. What I mean is, Alfred somehow makes me feel like a bloody teenager again. This morning," he paused, looking down and speaking even more softly, "this morning I wanted to shag him in my kitchen."

"You didn't tell me he vas vizh you zhis morning."

Naturally, Gilbert would ignore the important part.

"He slept on my couch last night and made me breakfast this morning."

A gleam came into the Prussian's eye as he sat back in his chair and whistled. "Look at you, Kirkland. Found yourself a model who vants to make sure you get home safe und cooks for you. I zhink he's a keeper."

"Will you shut it? I'm trying to tell you that Alfred makes me want things I haven't wanted in years, and you're making jokes about someone finally meeting my standards." His embarrassment made Arthur gruff and he found himself looking down at his half empty plate rather than at the man he was talking to. It would be too much to see the smug smirk that was probably on Gilbert's face.

"Kitchen sex isn't zhat veird, Arzhur," Gilbert pointed out. "Rod und I have done veirder."

"It's weird for me. I don't do things like that, Gilbert, not in years. Why is it that all I have to do is see Alfred standing at my stove and suddenly I want him to put me up on the counter and—" he stopped mid-sentence, blushing, and prayed that Gilbert would actually try to help and not just make fun of him.

"Arzhur, zhis isn't as big of a deal as you zhink it is." Despite Arthur's worry of being teased, Gilbert spoke in a quiet, soothing tone. "You like him. Is zhat so hard to believe?"

"Liking him and…what I think about are two very, very different things."

"Vhat do you zhink about?"

"I think about waking up next to him every morning and having breakfast together and kissing him and riding that damn motorcycle all over the city together."

"I zhink zhe bike's sexy."

"So did I," Arthur muttered, his mind conjuring a foggy memory of how he'd behaved last night when Alfred drove him home from the Green Dragon. Had he really behaved so shamefully? Good Lord, he must have looked like such a fool.

"Hey," Gilbert was leaning forward with his head tilted so he could see Arthur's face, "vhatever you zhink you did, it probably vasn't zhat bad. He stayed und took care of you, ja? He likes you. Vhen I met him in zhe pub, he told me he'd met somevone he really liked. He vas talking about you, Arzhur, und even vhen I made passes at him, he didn't reciprocate. Don't vorry so much."

"But that's what I do," Arthur said with a weak smile. It made him feel better to hear that from Gilbert, that even when someone else had clearly taken an interest in Alfred, the American hadn't accepted the albino's advances. He liked Arthur enough that, even though they weren't going steady or exclusive, he hadn't hooked up with a stranger the way Arthur thought the bespectacled blond wanted when they first met.

"You don't need to. Trust me, Arzhur, vhatever it is you vant to do vizh Alfred, I'm pretty sure he vants to do it, too. Zhe vay he looks at you makes it obvious."

The way he looks at me?

Oh, wow, he hadn't expected to hear that.

"See? You're blushing. Two dates und you're head over heels for a sexy American tourist." Grinning, Gilbert leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. "Arzhur Kirkland, you're in love."

No, don't say that. I can't be in love with him already. It's too soon. I don't do anything this quickly. At least, not before Alfred.

"Maybe I am," the Brit admitted quietly. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to look his friend in the eye. "But what happens when he goes back to America in August?"

That brought Gilbert up short and for several moments the albino was left speechless. "I guess zhat depends on you."

"I like him enough to stay in touch with him when he leaves, that's for sure. But how do I know if I'm taking things too fast? I wanted to shag him last night, I'm sure of it, and it's a miracle that we didn't. That was probably him refusing to take advantage of the fact that I'd been drinking—perfect ruddy git—and I'm grateful for it. I would have hated myself if I woke up to find out I'd slept with him already. He made this morning more bearable than a hangover has right to be." Arthur knew he was rambling a bit and that he really was starting to sound like a love-sick idiot, but he didn't care. The look Gilbert was giving him was a mix of amusement and the sort of smug victory that made Arthur think the albino was on the verge of saying "I told you so" even though he hadn't actually told the Englishman anything. "I told myself that agreeing to go on a date with him would be good for me, stepping out of my comfort zone and trying something new."

"Und it vill be." There was so much confidence in Gilbert's tone that it would have been almost impossible not to believe him. "You've got plenty of time to get to know him better und decide if you're ready for sex, Arzhur. Stop over-zhinking it und have some fun."

It was basically the same thing he'd been telling himself ever since he met Alfred, but hearing it from someone other than himself had a lot more effect. Maybe Gilbert wasn't the most responsible man around, but he'd had his share of experience, and Arthur was more surprised than anything about how he felt around Alfred. He could almost guarantee that he was letting this get to him too much. So what if he wanted to have kitchen sex? He was a man and he'd had sex before, had even been fairly promiscuous at one time. A fling with Alfred (probably) wouldn't hurt anything and he knew it would be more fun than he'd had in a long time.

"So? Vhat do you say, Kirkland?" One of Gilbert's white eyebrows was lifted as he waited for the blond to make his decision.

Feeling better now, Arthur smiled and relaxed in his chair. "I think it's time I lived a little."

"Good! You need to stop being such a stick in zhe mud!"

Arthur chuckled at his friend's teasing and picked up his fork again. His lunch break was almost over, but he could finish his meal and walk back in time for the second half of his shift to start. Maybe he'd call or text Alfred after work and see when the American wanted to go out again. Soon, hopefully, and maybe, just maybe, Arthur would let his body make a few decisions next time.