"It was nice to meet you, Arthur!" Feliks called from the front passenger seat, waving and smiling.

"Thank you for inviting me," the Brit replied in a quieter tone, standing on his front steps with Alfred a couple steps below him.

Alfred pushed his glasses back up his nose, grinning as usual. "Anytime." Moving up a step, he loosely wrapped his arms around the smaller blond's waist and pulled Arthur just far enough forward that he could kiss him. The steps meant that Arthur was taller for the moment, and he rather liked being the one to lean down for the kiss rather than reaching up.

Despite the two watching from the car, Alfred tightened his arms and tilted his head, invading Arthur's mouth then drawing away again before the green-eyed male could properly respond.

"Git," Arthur muttered, hiding his quickly reddening face in the model's shoulder as Alfred laughed and hugged him.

"I'd say sorry but I'm not."

"I know."

Still pink in the face, Arthur drew back and met the other blond's eyes for a moment. He smiled shyly as Alfred reached up to kiss his forehead and pushed against the American playfully. "All right, all right. Get going before your boss decides to leave without you."

"Aw, Fe wouldn't do that. He wants to talk to me about you too much."

Arthur rolled his eyes even though knowing the fashion designer wanted to talk about him made him feel a bit on the flustered side of things. "Well, we wouldn't want to keep him waiting."

"No." Alfred stole another kiss then quickly stepped back off the steps before Arthur could retaliate. "We wouldn't." He winked cheekily before turning and walking to the car, casting a smile over his shoulder along with a wave. "See ya, Artie."

"Bye."

Then Alfred was in the car with Feliks and Toris and the three were off down the street, leaving Arthur to watch from his front stoop until the car vanished around the corner.

It wasn't quiet in the car, but Alfred chose not to join in on the chatter of the other two. He was too busy thinking about the fact that Arthur was actually his boyfriend now. He had a real claim on the Brit, one that would matter even when he left at the end of summer. A long-distance relationship would be hard, sure, but he would manage. Being Arthur's boyfriend would be worth it.

Wait, shit. How am I gonna eat without cheating on him?

Asking to be boyfriends had been a spur of the moment decision, pure reaction to Arthur's comment about the photographer losing hope. He hadn't thought it through before saying it. Arthur was his boyfriend now and he couldn't be happier, but at the same time, the weight of what he'd just done threatened to overwhelm him.

He had a human boyfriend who didn't know what he was, and they hadn't gone far enough yet for Alfred to assume the Brit would be any sort of food source. Besides, he'd already decided he didn't want to use Arthur for food. So what was he supposed to do? He couldn't just cheat on Arthur, but he couldn't starve, either. If he didn't feed, he would go crazy and then….no, he didn't want to think about that. It was a long time ago. He wasn't going to do it again.

Too busy thinking about his predicament to really notice what was going on around him, Alfred left the car and followed his two companions up through the hotel to their suite. It wasn't until the door closed behind him and the lights were flicked on that he realized they were back, and even then he wasn't all there.

"Alfred."

"What?" he responded absently, not sure if it was Toris or Feliks who had said his name and not really able to bring himself to care.

"Oi, Incubutt, come sit down."

Okay, that was Feliks, which meant Toris was the one who said his name. Not that it mattered. And he didn't much feel like sitting down, but he did look up enough to see that Feliks was looking at him with both eyebrows raised and his arms crossed.

"What?" the American said again, now actually paying attention.

"Really, Alfred? You had to turn him on in the restaurant?"

In the restaurant?

Confused, Alfred frowned. "What are you talking about? I didn't do anything to him in the restaurant."

"Oh, so he got all flushed and fidgety for some reason other than that an incubus was touching him?"

"I didn't do anything to him!"

"Alfred," Toris spoke more calmly than the other two males had done, though that was nothing unusual.

"I didn't," the incubus said again, adamant as he moved farther into the hotel suite and dropped onto one of the luxurious couches. He hadn't done anything to Arthur. The Brit could feel it when he pressed heat into him, so why would he risk doing it again? And in a restaurant, no less? That would just be mean and was the last thing he wanted to do to the man he had just become the boyfriend of. "Why would I? We were there to have lunch. And even if we hadn't been, I wouldn't do that to Arthur. I'm not going to use any underhanded tricks to get him to like me."

First Feliks sat on one side of the bespectacled blond, then Toris settled on the other. It was their usual arrangement, though this time there was no cuddling or kisses or suggestive comments. Instead, the two kept a respective distance and gave Alfred time to think about what he wanted to say next.

"You don't need to use any underhanded tricks for people to like you, Al," Toris comforted him, laying a gentle hand on the larger male's shoulder. "I don't think you did it on purpose, but something happened to Arthur."

"It really looked like you were doing the heat thing," Feliks added. "That's why we didn't say anything about it in the restaurant. We thought you were doing something."

Alfred shook his head. "I wasn't. Not on purpose."

"Could you have done it on accident?" the brunet asked, and Alfred shook his head again before he paused then shrugged.

"Maybe. I dunno. It's never happened before."

"No one's ever been able to resist you before, though," Feliks pointed out, "and Arthur did."

"Yeah."

Hell, this situation was already complicated enough but now Arthur was affecting his incubus powers? Who was this guy?

Toris shifted his weight on the couch, apparently lost in thought. "Do you think your father is right? That Arthur's your mate and that's why he reacts to you differently from everyone else?"

"Fuck, I don't know. Maybe." Frustrated now, Alfred ran his hands through his hair and leaned back against the couch, sighing. "Maybe I should call him again and see what he thinks. He should know plenty about incubi and maybe he'll have some real advice this time." His last call to his so-called father hadn't been as successful as Alfred had hoped, but he was confused and frustrated enough that he was willing to give it another try. Especially if it would help him with Arthur in some way.

"Then call him." His tone matter-of-fact, Feliks tightened his ponytail then smoothed out his clothes. "He can't be totally useless, can he?"

"He could be." Alfred was a little grudging as he said it. Yes, the other mythical had helped to turn him into what he was, but his father was sometimes useless at best. Sometimes he was frustrating and aggravating and there were times when Alfred would really have liked to punch him in the mouth. But he couldn't completely blame him, so he kept his temper in check. His current existence was partially his own fault, after all.

Smiling encouragingly, Toris squeezed his shoulder a little before standing. He gestured for Feliks to stand as well then took the blond nymph's hand into his own. "Call him. We'll give you some privacy." And with that, he led his mate into their room and shut the door.

Alfred had the feeling that their departure was only partially to give him peace and quiet for the call to his father. He could have just gone into his own room, after all, so his friends were probably in need of a little quality bonding time. It didn't really matter, though, just as long as they didn't try to drag him into it. He didn't want to cheat on his new boyfriend less than two hours after asking him, after all.

Even though he was now alone in the living room of the hotel suite, Alfred made no move to fetch his phone in order to call his father. What if the older mythical had no useful advice? What if he just said the exact same thing as last time? Talking to him might be completely pointless, but…it would be better than nothing.

Sighing and not entirely willing to do this, Alfred got up and cast his gaze around the suite. Where had he left his phone? He'd called Arthur with it that morning. Had he taken it in the car with them? Uh…he couldn't remember. All he knew was that he hadn't used it since he'd called Arthur about five hours before.

Crap.

It had to be around here somewhere.

"Fe!"

A rather loud thump sounded in the bedroom, followed by a sound of pain and someone—probably Toris—laughing.

"Shut up," Feliks' voice sounded, muted by the wall and surly, then louder, "what do you want, Al?"

Grinning despite himself because he'd obviously just interrupted something, Alfred clasped his hands behind his head and looked at the ceiling. "Call my phone for me. I can't find it." He could hear Feliks and Toris talking on the other side of the wall, and a few moments later a loud buzzing sound filled the suite.

Alfred spun and followed the noise into the kitchen, quickly spotting his phone on the counter near the sink where he'd probably left it that morning after rinsing his breakfast dishes. "Found it! Thanks!"

The buzzing stopped just before he picked the device up, and his screen was lit to display he had a missed call from the nymph in the other room. Alfred hit the End option to go back to the home screen then tapped in the number he had memorized but didn't really care to know. It always sort of amazed him that his old-ass father figure was so enthusiastic about technology. He could have been in contact with him on social media websites if he'd wanted to be. Which he very definitely didn't.

"Two calls in a week," the bespectacled blond muttered as he put the phone to his ear and listened to it ring. "He's going to think I'm starting to like him."

For a few moments, he stood in the kitchen in silence except for the quiet hum of the fridge and the ringing coming through the phone. Five rings. Six. Seven. Was he really going to have to leave a voicemail? Seriously? Since when did he not answer his phone?

"'ello?"

There was that annoying voice.

"It's me."

"Alfred! Anozher call already? You're spoiling me."

Alfred could practically see the stupid, playful way the older mythical was probably smiling as he said it, and he rolled his eyes so hard it strained the muscles a little. "Yeah. So, you remember that guy I was telling you about the other day?"

"Arzhur? Oui, of course I remember 'im. Are you 'aving trouble wooing 'im?" The voice coming through the phone was teasing and patronizing and made Alfred grind his teeth.

"No, but I think he's messing with my incubus powers or something. It's weird."

"Messing wizh your powers? 'ow so?"

"Well, first he wasn't at all interested in me, which is weird by itself, but earlier today we were at lunch with Fe and Tor and he started turning red and shifting in his seat. He seemed really uncomfortable and suddenly left to go to the bathroom. He said he was fine when he got back and he wouldn't talk about it at all. When we got back to the hotel, the guys said they thought I was turning him on on purpose, but I wasn't."

"Turning 'im on?"

"Yeah. You know how one of the things incubi can do is touch someone and make them feel really warm so they're more sensitive? Arousal with just a touch or whatever? Fe thought I was doing that to Arthur while we were in the restaurant."

"Were you?"

Immediately, Alfred's temper rose. Why did everyone think he was that big of an ass?! "No! Of course not! Why the hell would I? I'm not some sleazy jerk, you know!"

"I know, I know, Alfred, I just wanted to make sure."

Still upset and frustrated and confused, the American looked around the kitchen for a moment before picking one of the chairs around the table and sitting on it a little more forcefully than he needed to. His elbows were braced on the tabletop and he rested his face in one hand, the other still holding the phone to his ear.

"Right. Anyway, I was hoping you might be able to tell me what the hell's going on. Fe and Tor were pretty convinced I was doing it on purpose, and I was holding his hand so I could have if I'd wanted to but I wasn't. I mean, it's one of my powers. I'm supposed to be able to control it, but Arthur's been an exception the whole time, so…"

"Like I told you last time you called, Alfred, I zhink zhis Arzhur is your mate. You're an incubus. Zhese zhings don't just 'appen to people like you. I've never heard of zhis before et I don't zhink anyone else 'as, eizher. I wish I could be more 'elpful to you, but zhere's just not enough information on incubi et zheir mates to know exactly what's 'appening. I'm sorry." Surprisingly, he sounded genuinely sorry that he couldn't give Alfred a more definite answer, and that helped calm the blue-eyed blond tremendously.

"Yeah, I know." Sighing, he pushed his glasses up on top of his head and rubbed his eyes until purple started showing up over the blackness of his eyelids. What was he going to do? Either Arthur was his mate or he wasn't, and there was no way to know because, well, incubi didn't do this. They ate and they moved on. Alfred had been doing it for a couple hundred years now and suddenly some green-eyed Englishman had caught him off-guard and kept him on his toes for days. This wasn't normal for someone like him. "Thanks anyway. I'll, uh, keep you posted."

He didn't know why he said it. It just felt like the right thing to do. His father was trying to help him and was obviously concerned, so why not let him know if anything changed?

"Merci, Alfred, et good luck wizh 'im."

"Thanks."

The line disconnected and Alfred slowly set the phone on the table. Well, it hadn't been as useless as he'd thought it would be. And his father had really tried to help. Like the older mythical had said, though, there just wasn't very much to go on. Incubi weren't exactly known for their ability to commit to a relationship.

Still, what if Arthur really was his mate? Would the Brit know? It wasn't something that happened with humans, not really. Having a mate was a bond between mythicals, and, well, that clearly wasn't the case. Arthur was human, so even if he was Alfred's mate, they wouldn't be able to tell for sure. He'd already talked to Feliks and Toris about it, and the possibility that if Arthur became a mythical then they'd know for sure why he affected Alfred so differently from everyone else.

"But I don't want to do that to him," Alfred muttered, putting both hands over his face and leaning forward on his elbows. There were only a few ways for a human to become a mythical and he didn't want Arthur to have to suffer through any of them.

So protective after three dates, huh, Al? What're you gonna do? You'll have to cheat on him to survive and it'll tear you apart. Boyfriends. Yeah.

Alfred groaned and slumped forward onto the table, his face buried in his arms.

God, this was all so screwed up. He was an incubus staying in England for the summer and just happened to meet some random guy in a pub who just happened to be immune to his charms. Then he went on two dates with that man, kissed him multiple times, almost slept with him but didn't, made out with him multiple times, and then apparently accidentally used one of his incubus powers on him in a restaurant. Oh, and he'd better not forget the part where Arthur was his boyfriend now. That was an important detail to keep in mind. So he was fucked no matter what he did. Cheat or starve. Or try to seduce Arthur as quickly as possible.

No, no, that'd make him look like an asshole. Ask him to be boyfriends then immediately try to have sex with him? Yeah, the perfect plan to prove he was nothing but a jerk looking for a good time and an easy lay just like Arthur had thought he was when they met. Excellent. He'd been limiting himself to Feliks and Toris to avoid being caught with someone else and so far that was working, but Alfred didn't know if he could bring himself to keep doing it. He would get hungry, sure, and it would suck, but he was going to have to learn to go without if he wanted things to work with Arthur.

I'll just…go on a diet.

It was a stupid idea and he knew that, but what else could he do? If he told Arthur what he was, the Brit would think he was insane. Or would run screaming in the other direction, maybe call the police. That wasn't something Alfred was willing to go through. Maybe he shouldn't try to make any decisions just yet. After all, Arthur had been his boyfriend for barely two hours, and he wasn't hungry, so he didn't have to choose right away. What was the phrase? He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

This is going to suck.