There were so many people, all talking at once and rushing around, making noise that seemed wholly unnecessary. Still not quite awake, Arthur did little more than trail after Alfred and Feliks and Toris. Riding in the car—and cuddling—had very nearly put him back to sleep. If Alfred hadn't been holding onto his hand, the Brit would have fallen behind and probably gotten lost. But Alfred's grip was firm, his fingers laced through Arthur's, and he glanced back now and then with a small smile.

"Mister Łukasiewicz?"

Feliks turned at the sound of his name, pausing and making the others do the same. "Yes?" It was a woman, dressed nicely but a little plainly, her hair pulled back in a sleek, no-nonsense bun—she was obviously a worker instead of a model, though she was fairly pretty.

"Your rooms are this way, if you'll follow me."

She turned and led them through the chaos that was the photoset with apparent ease. Alfred clearly wasn't the only one modeling that morning, and Arthur found himself looking around with sleepy interest, though he was waking up little by little. People rushed in every direction, racks of clothes were being moved around, there was a large space full of cages with a whole menagerie of animals the models could pose with. Arthur stared in slight awe at several rather large snakes before he lost sight of them.

"Mister Jones, here's your dressing room." The woman pointed to a door with his name written on a sign hanging from it. "The stylists are ready to begin as soon as you finish dressing."

Flashing her his signature grin, Alfred nodded once and winked. "Thanks." The slightest blush appeared on the woman's cheeks, and Arthur stared at her. He would have wrapped his arms around Alfred's waist and staked his claim on the American, but his mind wasn't moving quickly enough. Besides, she had turned to Feliks again and Alfred was tugging on his hand. To his surprise, he was pulled into the bespectacled model's dressing room.

"I can wait outside," he offered as Alfred shut the door, shuffling his feet and looking at the floor in an embarrassed sort of way. It wasn't that the thought of being in a small room with a mostly naked Alfred made him uncomfortable, but he didn't want to make a fool of himself. What if he stared? What if he said something stupid? Or worse—what if this turned him on? This would definitely not be the time for that, not with so many people just outside that door.

Smiling, Alfred slipped his arms around the smaller blond and hugged him. "I don't mind if you're in here. I can't change until someone brings me my first outfit, anyway."

"Oh." Relaxing against the American's strong chest, Arthur closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Everything about Alfred was warmth and comfort. "Okay."

"Yeah." Slowly, Alfred rubbed Arthur's back and kissed the Englishman's shoulder. "Sorry for waking you up so early."

"It's fine."

Alfred smiled and gently squeezed the man in his grasp.

"Mister Jones?" Someone knocked. "Your outfit's ready."

Reluctant, the two ended their hug and Alfred opened the door. "Thanks." He reached outside to accept the clothes brought to him, then closed the door again and turned. "What do you think?" he asked, holding the outfit up for Arthur to see.

Arthur stared, jaw moving uselessly for several moments. "Uh…it…I…"

Lowering his arm, Alfred chuckled dryly and shook his head. "Should've known Fe would sign me up for something like this."

"He didn't tell you?"

"Naw, he just said it was a photoshoot."

"Oh." Was that really all he could say? Oh. Yes, very intelligent. He sounded like a real professional. But he couldn't think of anything else. What could he say? He was in Alfred's dressing room with him and the American was going to change into that. His fear of being turned on seemed painfully valid now. "Are you, er, still sure you're okay with me being in here?"

For a moment, Alfred hesitated, head tilting side to side, then his gaze met Arthur's as he peered over the tops of his glasses. "I think I'd like you to stay."

Arthur felt himself reddening under that gaze and tucked his chin to his collarbone, though he didn't break the eye contact. "Okay."

It was quiet as they regarded each other, then Alfred moved in front of the vanity and hung up his new outfit on a hook protruding from the wall. With his back to Arthur but aware that he was being watched, he pulled his shirt off over his head and dropped it onto a stool by the wall. A glance up let him see Arthur's reflection in the mirror, his green eyes raking over the American's figure. Alfred grinned lazily. "Need something?"

Starting, Arthur blushed and quickly looked away. "N-no, just…"

"Just?" Alfred turned, slipping his hands into his jeans pockets, and leaned back against the vanity's table. His eyebrows were raised just slightly, giving his smile a suggestive edge.

Red-faced and shy but determined, Arthur did his best to smile coyly. "I just wondered if you wanted help." He kept his tone light and innocent despite the obvious meaning behind his words.

"Yeah." Alfred's voice was lower than normal as he looked at the smaller blond, his mind running through the many ways Arthur might "help" him.

With slow steps and still smiling, Arthur placed himself in front of the American and lightly touched his chest. Their eyes met; his fingers traced muscle and bone down, down, down to the thin patch of pale blond hair peeking over the top of the model's jeans.

"Artie…" He'd never gotten turned on so quickly in his life, not without being hungry first. But the way Arthur was looking at him, how soft and almost teasing his touches were, Alfred was two seconds away from grabbing him and kissing him.

"Hm?" Idly, Arthur toyed with the button on Alfred's jeans—he leaned forward to place a kiss on suntanned skin, lingering slightly and enjoying the larger male's scent.

"Artie." It was more of a whine that time, the effort it was taking to hold himself back almost a struggle to maintain. He'd already been woken up painfully early and coerced into this photoshoot, and now Arthur was teasing him!

"Hush." Arthur popped the button open as he kissed up Alfred's neck and along the underside of his jaw. He could feel how tense the model was, even just leaning against him as little as he was. It made him proud to know that he had such an effect on the handsome American. A boring lover, he'd been called. Well, not anymore.

"Why aren't you touching me?" he murmured against Alfred's skin, and immediately felt hands on his hips, squeezing and rubbing as they moved around to his lower back. Pressure brought him closer to Alfred so that he was firmly pressed against the American, and he looked up to meet blue eyes. "Yes?"

"You're impossible," was Alfred's only response before he ducked and kissed the Brit. Arthur's instant reaction was to press closer, return the kiss with just a little more force than Alfred had started it with. He fumbled to undo the zipper of the blue-eyed blond's jeans. Most of his attention was on the way Alfred's mouth was moving against his own, so the zipper was more difficult to operate than it should have been. Still, he accomplished his goal after several attempts then set about tugging on the denim. Just as the jeans began to slip down away from Alfred's hips, the American moved both hands down to cup Arthur's backside. A soft gasp escaped the smaller blond and he yanked just hard enough that Alfred's jeans fell around his ankles.

"Alfred…" Arthur was breathless, his hands now flat against the American's chest. Alfred's fingers were kneading and pressing, forcing the Englishman's hips to move forward and up slightly in a grinding motion. If Arthur hadn't been so busy snogging the taller blond, he'd have paid more attention to the fact that they were both half hard. He was already having a hard enough time keeping mostly still, since the hands on his rear and the muscular body he was being held against made him want to arch and grind and buck. He wanted Alfred to kiss him hard until he was light-headed from lack of oxygen.

But the American merely chuckled and broke away, breathing a little more heavily than normal, and smiled crookedly. "Sorry."

Arthur frowned slightly, panting and confused. "For what?"

Pressing his forehead to the green-eyed blond's, Alfred traded his grip on Arthur's ass in favor of hugging him gently. "That I have to change when that isn't even close to what I want."

"What do you want?"

His lips twitched into a grin and Alfred put his mouth by the smaller male's ear. "To kiss you 'til your knees give out so I can put you up on this table and kiss you some more." His voice was low and husky and promised so much more than just kissing, and Arthur felt his entire body quickly growing warmer.

"That sounds nice," he eventually replied, and Alfred nodded.

"Yeah, it does."

And even though he needed to change and they were keeping everyone waiting, neither blond moved. It was another several moments before Alfred loosened his arms and Arthur stepped back out of them to go back to his spot near the door. Silence overtook the dressing room as the taller male turned and stripped off his boxer briefs, keeping his back to the other in order to hide the fact that he was still partially hard, while Arthur waited and politely kept his gaze averted. In place of his own clothes, he donned what had been brought to him, then turned and smiled.

"How do I look?"

Like a god.

Arthur didn't say what he was thinking, that would have been embarrassing, but he knew it was true. Dressed like that, Alfred looked like a god. He was all golden skin and blue eyes, dazzling smile and sexy muscles. The "outfit" he'd been brought was little more than a pair of pants, a rather tight-fitting pair of swim shorts that left most of his thighs and hips exposed. Black with a red stripe down each side, they were a lovely contrast against the American's skin.

Clearing his throat, Arthur forced a smile and dragged his mind away from the less appropriate thoughts of the shorts. "You look bloody amazing."

"Thanks." Crossing the room, Al slipped one arm around the golden blond's narrow waist and pulled him close, kissing him lightly. "Gonna help me change after the shoot?" he asked softly when he pulled away, smiling at the dazed look on Arthur's face.

"Yeah…"

A second kiss before he let the Brit go. "Then let's get this over with."

Still recovering, Arthur nodded and slipped his hand into the larger male's. "Sure."

Alfred smiled and opened the dressing room door, sticking his head out. "Ready for the stylists." Within moments, three more people had entered the dressing room and directed Alfred into the chair in front of the vanity. The American sat perfectly still, allowing one to wipe down his skin, another to style his hair, and the third to lather foam onto his stomach then carefully scrape it away with a razor to remove the hair from his lower belly.

"Careful," Alfred muttered, eyes darting down to watch what was being done to his body.

The stylist didn't respond, merely continued with his work and wiped away the leftover foam before applying a layer of lotion to keep the skin from becoming agitated. Once the blades were no longer near his skin, Alfred relaxed again and quietly waited for them to finish.

"Done. Let's go—you've got a lot to do."

As he was rushed out of the chair and towards the door, Alfred made sure to reach back and grab Arthur's sleeve and pull the Englishman along with him. Through clothing racks and small tables and other people, the group wound its way along until they reached the set where Alfred was meant to be doing his shoot.

"Go stand with Feliks and Toris," the bespectacled model instructed, pointing so that Arthur knew where he meant, then he let the smaller blond go and stepped up onto the set.

"Good morning, gorgeous," the photographer greeted him with a smile, and Alfred grinned.

"Morning."

From his place beside Feliks, Arthur watched the photographer and model talk briefly before Alfred moved into the center of the set.

Smiling, Feliks leaned closer to the Brit and whispered, "You're totally gonna love this. Al's a natural."

Arthur nodded, his gaze locked on the American. There was that familiar grin full of straight, perfectly white teeth as Alfred flexed and posed. He ran his hands through his hair, crossed his arms, turned his back to the cameras and cast a smirk over his shoulder. Watching him was fascinating. While Arthur had never been much interested in fashion or anything to do with the design and marketing of clothes, he thought he could watch Alfred do this for hours. Feliks had been right—the bespectacled blond was a natural, and Arthur couldn't take his eyes off him.

"All right, handsome. You're fantastic. Go get changed—I could photograph you all day." Something in the photographer's tone caught Arthur's attention, and as Alfred stepped off the set and came towards him, he watched the photographer watch Alfred. The interest in the other man's eyes put a bitter taste in the back of Arthur's mouth and he found himself wanting to glare. Instead, he moved to meet Alfred and gave the American his most winsome smile.

"You're great," he complimented, slipping his arms around Alfred's waist and reaching up to kiss the taller male's cheek. "Completely great."

His cheeks turning a light shade of pink, Alfred grinned somewhat embarrassedly and returned Arthur's hug. "Thanks, Artie."

"Come on, love, let's get you changed into that second outfit." As he stepped back again, Arthur made sure to give Alfred a flirtatious smile that had the model nodding and leading him back towards the dressing room.

The moment the door closed and the two were alone, Arthur wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck and pulled the taller blond down into a kiss. Surprised, Alfred didn't start kissing back right away, though he only waited about a second before he was holding Arthur's waist and pulling the Englishman close. It surprised him again to feel teeth on his lower lip, but he didn't take the time to question it and quickly yanked Arthur against himself. The sudden movement made the Brit gasp, and Alfred seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Head tilting and arms tightening, he caught Arthur's lip between his teeth for a moment before slipping his tongue past them.

"Al…" Arthur breathed once Alfred's tongue retreated, hands trailing down the model's chest and stomach until they encountered the fabric of the swim shorts.

"Yeah?"

Cheeks flushed, the Brit peered up at the American through his bangs and gently tugged at the cloth in his grip.

"Aw, c'mon, Artie," Alfred mock whined, smiling, "don't look at me like that."

Arthur's brow furrowed and he tugged harder, just barely making the shorts slip. "You're supposed to change."

"Yeah, but if you keep doing that, we both know changing isn't what's going to happen."

Slowly, Arthur smiled. "Okay."

One of Alfred's eyebrows went up and he licked his lip before biting it and grinning. "Damn it, Arthur. Why're you so tempting?"

That look made Arthur laugh and he shrugged playfully. "Not that tempting if you're not giving in."

"Oh," the grin became a smirk and Alfred drew the Brit closer again, "trust me, if we were in a better place, I'd have you on your back by now."

Feigning a shocked expression, Arthur pushed lightly against the American's chest. "I never said I wanted to shag you!"

"No, but the rest of you is making it pretty obvious." Still smirking, Alfred released the smaller male and headed towards the vanity, where his next outfit was waiting for him. "So what was that face you were making before I came off the set? You looked sorta pissed."

What? He'd seen that?

"Oh, I, er, I was just lost in thought," Arthur lied, and Alfred gave him a knowing look over his shoulder. Even though the American didn't say anything, Arthur knew that he was being told to tell the truth and that there would be consequences if he didn't. He didn't know what those consequences might be, but if covering up his temporary lack of self control meant that Alfred was going to be mad at him, then he may as well tell the truth. "Fine. I was looking at that photographer."

"With that face? Why? He's nice." Alfred was too busy changing into a new set of swim shorts—longer and looser than the first, and white with a blue geometric design on them—to see the way Arthur frowned.

"He was watching you."

"He's a photographer and I'm a model. Who else is he going to look at?"

"No, Alfred, he was watching you."

"What, like he's interested in me?" His expression one of amused disbelief, he turned and looked at the shorter blond. "Artie, come on."

"Don't 'come on' me," the Brit all but snapped, his temper rising because Alfred didn't believe him and his opinion was being invalidated. "I know what I saw. He's interested in you."

Alfred lifted his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, he's interested in me. I believe you, now come here." He smiled slightly and held his arms out. It was another couple of moments before Arthur gave in and moved close enough for Alfred to hug him, and even then he was sulking.

"I don't like it," he eventually muttered, resting his head against the American's shoulder.

"Don't like what?"

"That he looks at you like that."

A chuckle rumbled in the taller blond's chest, forcing a small smile to replace the pout on Arthur's features.

"I didn't even notice. I was too busy looking at you."

That made Arthur feel significantly better, though he didn't want to admit it just yet, so he remained silent as he rested against Alfred.

"Hey, really, I didn't notice. I don't care if he's interested in me. It's just like the waitress okay? I don't care. You're better," Alfred tried to assure him, and Arthur nodded slowly.

"You're still a git," he growled softly, and Alfred laughed.

"Yeah, but I'm a handsome git, and you like me, otherwise you wouldn't have gotten so jealous."

"I never said I was jealous."

Rolling his eyes, Alfred leaned back so he could see the Englishman's face. "Arthur."

"What?"

They stared at each other until Arthur sighed and looked down. "Fine, I was jealous. Happy?"

"Yeah, kinda." His wide grin made Arthur chuckle and he pushed against Alfred's chest just hard enough to free himself from the blue-eyed blond's arms.

"You're ridiculous. Now let's get back to the set so you can finish letting that photographer ogle you. I'm hungry and you promised lunch."

"I did, didn't I." Slinging his arm around Arthur's shoulders, Alfred guided him out of the dressing room and kissed his cheek just as they reached the set, where he knew the photographer would see it. "We'll go wherever you want, okay?"

Arthur glanced at the photographer and notice that the man had busied himself with his camera, then smiled at Alfred. "Sounds perfect."