His feet were starting to hurt. Never in his life had he spent this much time in a mall in a single day. Well, maybe that wasn't true. He'd certainly loitered around them when he was younger and looking to get into trouble wherever and whenever he could. But it had definitely been years, and his feet were determined to remind him of it.

Arthur was thoroughly ready to go home and call it a day. As much as he'd wanted to argue with Alfred about going out tonight for dinner and drinks, he was really very willing to just go home. Even dinner sounded like it would take too much energy.

"Alfred," he leaned into the taller man, "I'm starting to feel rather worn out."

The bespectacled blond sighed and nodded, then popped his neck. "Feliks is a notorious shopper."

"He always takes this long?"

"Longer."

"Oh."

Alfred shifted against the wall he'd chosen as his resting place, his arm comfortable around Arthur's shoulders. "If we didn't have a dinner date, he'd insist on staying until the stores close."

That seemed rather excessive to Arthur, but then, he wasn't a fashion designer, and he stuck to clothes that were functional, comfortable, and appropriate for the occasion. Feliks seemed far more interested in every aspect of the things he looked at. Fabric, pattern, shade, shape, cut—Arthur had heard more commentary on the fashion industry from Feliks' muttered judgements that day than he'd ever heard in his life, and he hadn't understood a word of it.

"Feliks," Toris knocked on the dressing room door, shopping bags hooked over both arms and a few near his feet, "we need to get going or we'll be late for dinner."

"Just a minute!" the response came through the door, just slightly muffled, and the three waiting men exchanged tired looks.

It was another moment before the dressing room door opened to reveal Feliks in his latest outfit. He came out of the dressing room and did a small turn, his arms up to show off the slim-fitting black trousers, the texture of the shirt almost the exact shade of green as his eyes. When he faced them again he stopped, grinning, and hooked his thumbs in the dark gray suspenders he wore.

"You look great," Alfred complimented, though his tone was more impatient than anything, "can we go now?"

Feliks stuck his tongue out at the American then turned to Toris, smiling again, his chin lowered. "What do you think?"

"Perfect, as usual," the brunet's compliment was more sincere and put a pleased blush on Feliks' face.

"Thank you."

"It is getting late, though," Toris glanced at his watch, "we'll be late if we don't go."

"Okay, okay," Feliks was already heading back into the dressing room. "Just, like, give me a minute to change back and then we'll check out and go."

Alfred groaned and let his head thump back against the wall, and missed the scowl Feliks gave him just before shutting the door. "Why do you even buy clothes, Fe? You could just make all these yourself."

"Because," his voice was muffled once again, accompanied by the shuffling of clothes as the designer changed, "making clothes is what I do for a living. Shopping is for fun. It's completely different."

"Don't you already have like a dozen green shirts?"

"Eight, and none of them are this shade. It almost matches my eyes!"

"Couldn't you just buy fabric that matches your eyes and make your own?"

"You're missing the point of this being fun, Alfred. I enjoy shopping. I love fashion. It's important to stay up to date on the leading styles and designers. Besides, it's a huge compliment for another designer to wear your line! It shows respect and appreciation for what we do." The door opened and Feliks emerged, dressed in his original outfit once more, the clothes he'd decided to buy on their hangers in his hand. "When I buy from another designer, it tells them that their designs are quality, and it shows everyone else that it's a line worth looking into and noticing."

"So, why don't you specifically purchase from new lines to help them get started?" Alfred questioned, following as Feliks took Toris' hand and began making his way towards the checkout counter, Arthur still tucked comfortably into his side.

"I do," the nymph replied simply, and left it at that.

They checked out at the register—thankfully there was no line, otherwise they really would have been late for dinner—then found their way back outside to the car.

"Remember, we need to take Arthur home, first," Alfred said as he opened the car door for the shorter blond.

Feliks, already putting his seat belt on in the front passenger seat, immediately pulled a pout. "I thought he was coming to eat with us."

"No," Arthur slid into his seat and Alfred followed him, shutting the door, "I've got to be up early for work tomorrow, and dinner and drinks would be too tempting to stay up far later than I should." He glanced at Alfred, still not entirely happy with the decision, but tired enough not to argue.

Turning in his seat to give the pair a wide-eyed look and quivering lip, Feliks sniffled dramatically. "You don't want to come spend time with us?"

Alfred rolled his eyes.

"No, I'd love to, which is exactly the problem." Arthur was far more gracious in his response. "If I came to dinner, and then drinks, I'd undoubtedly lose track of time, or simply ignore it, in favor of spending more time with you. I'd stay out too late and get too little sleep to be useful at work tomorrow morning."

With a dissatisfied hum, Feliks drummed his fingers against the seat back. "Well…fine, but next time you'll have to join us." He turned back to the front as Toris backed the car from its parking spot. "Alfred can't keep hogging you all to himself."

Shifting down to put his mouth closer to Arthur's ear, Alfred pulled the smaller male close possessively. "Like hell I can't," he muttered, earning a smile and soft kiss as they left the parking lot and drove towards the Brit's home.

"Bye, Arthur!" Feliks had rolled down his window and stuck his entire head and an arm out to wave at the other man as Alfred walked Arthur to his front door.

Lifting hand, Arthur smiled back at the designer. "Thank you for inviting me along!"

"Next time we'll ditch Alfred and shop for you." There was more than a little mischief in Feliks' smile as he said it, but he pulled back into the car and rolled his window up before either of the other two blonds could answer.

His face an embarrassed shade of red, Arthur avoided meeting Alfred's gaze as he unlocked his front door. A hand covered his own, stopping him from pushing the door open, and he looked up to find amused, tender blue eyes watching him.

"Ignore him," Alfred commanded gently, then stooped just enough to kiss Arthur's cheek. "He's just teasing you because he likes you. It's how he shows affection." His gaze slid to the car then back to Arthur. "And he's probably trying to fluster me because he thinks it's funny."

Arthur raised one thick eyebrow. "I don't know if I've ever seen you flustered."

"I'm pretty good at hiding it, but," he leaned close now, lowering his voice, "Feliks'…suggestion, might just about do it."

A shiver ran down Arthur's spine. "Then maybe I should go shopping with him."

"I'm not going to stop you."

Pulling back slightly, Arthur slipped an arm around Alfred's neck and pulled him in for a not-so-chaste kiss. Surprised, Alfred blinked twice before kissing back, both hands going to the shorter man's waist to pull him closer. Arthur pressed against him, one hand moving to grip the model's shirt.

The sudden beep of the car horn startle them apart; they both looked to see Feliks watching them through his window, clearly entertained. At the same time, they looked at each other, and Arthur bit his lip, his cheeks a pretty shade.

"I wish you could stay," he whispered, and Alfred nodded his agreement.

"Feliks would kill me if I skipped this dinner. It's going to be at least half business meeting, and he is technically my boss."

The Briton sighed, resigned. "I know. Will I see you tomorrow?"

"I'll pick you up from work." Alfred gave him another quick kiss before pulling away completely and heading back towards the car.

"See you tomorrow, love," Arthur called after him, and Alfred winked as he opened the car door.

"See ya, Artie." Then he got into the car and was gone a moment later, Toris pulling away quickly so they'd make it to the restaurant on time. Arthur watched until they vanished around a corner before going inside, already looking forward to tomorrow.

He'd barely gotten his door shut before Feliks started talking.

"I'm surprised you didn't, like, desecrate a dressing room today. Were they making out while I was changing?" He didn't wait for Toris to respond. "I can't believe you haven't slept with him yet. He obviously wants to. Kissing you like that? It's so obvious. You should just ask him tomorrow if he wants to so you can stop whining about it."

"I don't whine about it," Alfred growled from the back seat, "and we weren't 'making out' while you were shopping. We barely kissed at all."

"Aw, is the poor Incubus hungry?" Feliks looked at Alfred over his shoulder with a mocking pout, his bottom lip stuck out comically far.

"Shut up, Fe."

"I'll take that as a yes. Don't worry—you'll get plenty to eat tonight."

Alfred rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, slumping down in the backseat to watch the city go by through the window. It wasn't that this sort of teasing was unusual from Feliks—this was actually pretty light—but he didn't like being reminded that he hadn't fed from Arthur yet.

No, don't think of it like that. You're not feeding from him. You're not going to sleep with him for food. If we have sex, then it's going to be because we both want to, not because I'm hungry. Arthur isn't food and I never want to see him that way.

But there was no denying that Feliks was right. He was hungry, and if they stuck to the plan of going for drinks after dinner, then he shouldn't have any problem getting a meal.

X

The restaurant they'd chosen was apparently a very popular one. It was crowded, and if Alfred wasn't used to it by now, he'd have been surprised that they managed to get a table without a reservation. After a few dozen years hanging around the nymph, though, he was used to Feliks getting his way. They'd been given a table for five, the three of them plus the Vargas brothers, and even after eating appetizers and entrees, Feliks was looking over the dessert menu.

"Oh, the chocolate cream pie looks good," he leaned closer to Toris, showing him the picture on the menu, "but it's probably so unhealthy…"

"That's never bothered you, before," the brunet answered good-naturedly, earning a winsome smile from his blond lover.

"You know me too well."

"I should."

They shared a small kiss, and Feliks put the menu down before propping his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers, his chin resting on them. "So," he addressed the brothers seated across the table, drawing their attention from their own dessert menus, "did you have a place in mind for drinks?"

Feliciano smiled and nodded eagerly, leaning forward so he could keep his voice down. "There's a place we've heard of since coming here, called Rún. Have you heard of it?"

Feliks shook his head, looking thoughtful. "Rún….what is that? Icelandic?"

"Old Norse," Lovino answered him, and the nymph made a sound of understanding.

"It's very, very old, then."

"And powerful," Feliciano added, his tone turning cautious, "but we have heard good things."

"They wouldn't have lasted if it wasn't safe," Toris pointed out.

Musing over his menu even though he'd already decided to order the chocolate cream pie, Feliks hunched one shoulder in a half-shrug. "I suppose it can't hurt to give it a look. Some of the oldest places in the world are the best. They're too experienced to make the same mistakes as some of these new places."

"Si, that was our thinking, too."

"Can someone tell me what Rún means in Old Norse?" Alfred asked, not exactly politely. Four pairs of eyes turned on him, but he didn't try to hide his annoyance.

"It means 'mystery, secret,'" Lovino finally explained, and the others nodded in confirmation. "Old Norse was brought by the Viking invaders in 793, so whoever is running Rún is either very old themselves, or they're from a very old, very powerful family."

Feliciano closed his menu and set it aside. "We'll want to be careful, but it should be safe."

His annoyance turned to apprehension and Alfred looked at his friends. "I shouldn't come."

Waving a hand, Feliks dismissed his worries. "It'll be fine. You'll be with us. Nothing'll happen."

"That hasn't stopped things before," Al pointed out.

Toris settled a hand on his lover's shoulder. "He's right. We might want to go ourselves and see if it's safe before Alfred joins us."

The nymph sighed dramatically, wagging his head from side to side as he rolled his eyes. "Fiiine. He can wait in the car, and if it's not, like, safe for him, then we'll leave."

Alfred relaxed back into his chair and picked up one of the dessert menus, only feeling a little bit better. Going for drinks was one thing. Meeting Feliciano and Lovino was another. Going for drinks with the brothers at a place like Rún? That wasn't just another thing. That was a can of worms. Worse than a can of worms. That was a dozen things all shoved into one little innocent looking box. A dozen venomous, angry, ancient creatures that very well may decide they definitely did not want him opening their box. There had to be somewhere newer and less…risky for them to go.

Still, he didn't say anything. Feliks was determined to befriend these designers, and, honestly, he was getting a little tired of being surrounded by humans. If Rún turned out to be safe, it would be a nice break. He could let loose a little, stretch his wings, get a good meal. There was the chance it wouldn't be a safe place for him, but those that welcomed incubi were usually very welcoming. He'd either not be allowed inside, or he'd be treated almost like a guest of honor.

Only when their server returned did the American set his menu down and decline any dessert after his companions ordered theirs. He wasn't hungry for cake or pie or ice cream.

The desserts were brought out only a few minutes later, and slowly eaten between bits of conversation. Feliks had turned the topic back to the brothers' store, asking about their lines and upcoming plans if the store did well. Alfred didn't pay enough attention to know the specifics; he'd heard conversations just like this one too many times to count. Mostly, he thought about Arthur, what they could do tomorrow when he picked the human up from work. If it was nice out, they could go for a walk, or take a ride through the countryside on his bike. Staying at Arthur's to watch a movie if it was raining would be nice, too. They could huddle up on the couch together.

"Alfred."

"Hm?" Blue eyes came back into focus and the American looked at Toris.

"Are you ready?"

A glance caught him up—they were finished eating and ready to leave.

"Yeah."

They all stood, Toris dropping several bills on the table as a tip, and left in a group for the parking lot outside.

"We'll meet you there!" Feliks called to the brothers with a wave, and Feliciano returned the gesture with enthusiasm.

Alfred settled into the backseat once more. "If they don't want me there, you guys can drop me at the hotel and go back. I'll be fine."

Buckling his seat belt as Toris started the car, Feliks scoffed and rolled his eyes. "As if, Incubutt. You're hungry, and no way would we ditch you like that." He put down his visor and flipped the mirror open, checking himself over.

He knew Feliks meant that if he couldn't go into the bar, they'd come back with him and be his meal for the night. That, he knew, would somewhat make up for missing out on some socializing with their own kind.

"No, really, I know you guys are just as sick of humans as I am. You should go and fraternize with the Italians, meet some other locals. I bet they know you're here—you can't just walk into a bar like that and then leave without letting them fawn over you."

"If they know I'm here, then they know you're here, Al," Feliks pointed out, running his hands through his hair as if it was somehow less perfect than when he'd first left the hotel that morning. "If I go in, they'll all just wonder where I've hidden you." A playful glint came into his eyes as he met Alfred's in the mirror's reflection. "I bet you'll be the life of the party. Everyone will want a piece of you."

"You do tend to be popular, where you're accepted," Toris added on distractedly, his attention far more dedicated to driving than to the conversation.

"Exactly! They'll love you. How could they not?"

Rolling his eyes, Alfred sighed and shrugged. "They'll love me because that's what I'm for, Fe. Not cause they actually like me or don't have a problem with incubi. You know most mythicals think I'm scum."

"But they'll still take a piece of that ass if they can get it."

"Yeah, well, I'm not gonna stick around if anyone gets in my face. I've had my fill of that over the last two hundred years. I'm not in the mood for uninvited groping, either. I get more than enough of that."

"We'll leave if anyone's nasty," the nymph promised, putting the visor back up into its original position. "This is supposed to be a fun night, so we won't let anyone be mean to you." He turned and smiled at the bespectacled blond. "I promise. Okay?"

Alfred studied him for a few seconds, then nodded, satisfied with the sincerity in Feliks' tone and expression. At least if this didn't go well, he wouldn't be dealing with it alone.