[APH] Falling in Love in New York City - (6/?)
Title: Falling in Love in New York City - 6 / ?
Genre: Romance, drama, AU.
Pairings: USxUK, slight FrUK.
Rating: NC-17 / M
Warnings: Language, strong sexual content, adult themes, alcohol and some drug use.
Summary: Arthur Kirkland had only intended to dance away his stress and haunting past; never would he have thought in a million years, that on that night, on that particular nightclub, he would meet the one person who would change his life forever.
Slow techno music wafted through the air of the white room, making the subjects of that morning sway lightly to the catchy rhythm as consecutive flashes of light caught their movements. Shoes screeched against the white polished floor, screaming ‘amateur’ to anyone who walked into the exclusive art lab that on that day had been turned into a photo studio. Both the photography and modeling students had been brought in to do some hands on research. Each student would be graded according to how many poses and shots from those that were listed they were able to achieve. It seemed like a promising day.
“Keep eating like that and you won’t be able to fit into those designer jeans anymore.” Long silver hair clouded his line of view as he reached for another donut. “Seriously, Alfred.”
“It’s just one donut, Nat. How much harm can it do?” The blonde flashed his classmate a smile while serving himself some punch. “They wouldn’t have put food in a photo session if it wasn’t meant to be eaten. Haven’t gotten a thing in my stomach since breakfast.”
Pale blue eyes stared at him with a permanent frown etched into them. Where Alfred was popular for his charisma and bright attitude, Natalya was best known for her stoic features. All grace and aggressive elegance. “That’s because it’s for the photography students. Not the modeling students.”
“Aw, come on. Don’t be afraid of putting on a little weight. Nothing you can’t lose later.”
“Not all of us have your metabolism.” The young woman stared at the table longingly before heading back to her other classmates; away from the temptation.
“Suit yourself then. More for me.” Alfred flashed himself a grin and reached for another donut, tasting the sugary coat on his tongue as it melted away. He loved eating; it was as simple as that. If it tasted good, he didn’t think twice about chugging it down. Like his old man once said: ‘when you die, all you take with you is what you’ve seen and what you’ve eaten.’ No words could ever ring truer.
His punch was bitter, though. It wasn’t that it tasted bad, he thought, just that it could have been sweeter. The grin faded into a small and knowing smile as he caught the unintentional metaphor. Not bittersweet; more like bitter but good. Delicious, even. Just like him. ‘I think I’m going crazy. Why the hell did I even do that?’ Alfred hadn’t given it much thought once he had reached his apartment the night before. He felt he’d probably spoil the evening if he decided to over-think the events that lead him into becoming a grinning goon on the way back. He wasn’t stupid; he knew what a crush was and what it felt like. He’d just never thought it possible, to fall for a stodgy old man.
Did that make him… gay?
The smile vanished in its entirety. Of course it did… He couldn’t be. It was just a man crush. Perfectly understandable and healthy. And normal.
“-… over here, da-ze.”
Alfred gasped when someone slammed into him, dragging his attention back to the now. “Hey, what the hell.” The donut slipped from his hand and onto his shoe. “That was rude.”
“I’ve been yelling from across the room! Your turn’s up, man.”
“Cool it, mister Korean wonder. Just got a little distracted.” The blonde beamed down at his friend, patting him on the head.
“I’m not gonna miss lunch again because of you. Get your ass on that set so I can take the photos already and get it over with.” The kid gestured his camera towards the white set of boxes neatly arranged against a white background. It was all intentionally placed in the large room, across the wall-long rows of glass windows. Apparently the glare from the morning sun made it harder for the photographs to be properly taken; it was all part of the exam.
“You mean my fine ass, right? Right, Kimchi?” He laughed out, skipping towards the set before the shorter male could hit him.
“Don’t call me that, da-ze.”
“Dude, it’s easier than saying Im Young Soo all the damn time. Hit me up, baby.” Rolling his eyes, the short brunette began the session; but after the first few unmotivated shots, Alfred sagged into the decorative seat. “Can somebody put a song that doesn’t want me to commit suicide? Something more upbeat?”
“Now you’re just being a brat.”
“Aren’t I always?” The infamous grin was back. “Why not one of yours, Kimchi?”
The photographer didn’t protest. Instead, he let the camera hang from his neck while he rummaged his CD case, popping a disc into the radio once he decided on one suitable for his classmate’s demand. Upbeat hip hop blasted through the surround sound system, techno lacing into the catchy beat and making everyone’s foot tap along. “Satisfied?”
“Damn straight! That’s what I’m talking ‘bout.”
“Thank God.” Natalya added from the sidelines, crossing her long legs as she leaned back, ready to enjoy the view. It was no secret she had her pale eyes set on the American dream cockily posing for the camera. Who didn’t want a piece of Alfred Jones? She was just sure she’d be the one, and with good reason too. No one could compare to her stunning looks and curvaceous body; she completed him. Now, if only he were less oblivious to that fact.
“Come on, Al. Spunk it up a bit. Give me all you’ve got.” Young Soo spoke up over the music, moving across the room for different angle shots. “Wow the instructors like you always do.”
“Should I just smile then?” Alfred stood up straight, crossing his ankles coyly while framing his chin with his forefinger and thumb, a wink and a smile. The brunette snapped the shot. “Or should I show off my rockin’ abs?” He held his jacket open, showing off the polo underneath, corking his hip to the side. Another flash.
“Give me something more. The set is yours.”
“Something more, huh? Well let’s see.” He made a show of thinking it over, which earned a few more shots. To be honest, his mind was placed on other things entirely; his attention kept wandering to someone else. Alfred would have to improvise to get a good grade, and improvising was one of the things he did best. “Am I the only one that thinks this too… what’s the word, bland?” He strutted over to the window; holding on to both sides as he leaned over to look outside, but instead turned his head to look behind him with a smug smirk. Three more photos.
After kicking back and posing in a chair, he dramatically moved across the room freely, leaning against the walls in old gangster poses. After snatching a hat off his Italian friend, he posed as if holding a long gun under his arm. “I call this one, the Public Enemy.” That got a few laughs from the other’s there. Leave it to Alfred, bringing life and fun into something so monotonous. “Let’s see… what else. Someone, anyone! Suggestions!”
“On the floor!” Someone called out, triggering a whole new fit of laughter and a few giggles. The females huddled in, whispering in low voices, but their eyes still trained on the American stud.
“Nice one.” Unceremoniously, Alfred let himself fall onto the floor and leaned back, propped up on his elbows. That pose alone earned itself a few dozen shots.
“Come on, guys. Group shot!” Cheers erupted across the room as most of the modeling students followed the suggestion, making their way towards the center of the room and just diving onto the floor. Not missing the opportunity, one girl draped her arm across Alfred’s chest, nearly pressing nose to nose had it not been for Natalya who shoved her off as discreetly as possible. Alfred remained blissfully oblivious of the glares shot between the females.
The boys posed together, and then mingled with the girls for a few more poses and pictures before getting shooed off by Young Soo. “Y’all already got your chance, guys. Quit ruining my shots, Alfred’s mine.”
“Aw, Kimchi. Do I need to take you out to dinner now?”
“Yes, in fact. Mexican on you, da-ze.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, decorum returned to the models and quickly retook their seats on the sidelines, letting the team work for their grade. “Bummer. Bet those photos came out nice.”
“You’ll see them once they get graded. Now let’s just wrap this up so I can go lunch.”
“Snap away, man. Snap away.”
-----
“Dude; where the hell were you yesterday?! I called you like, a million times and you didn’t pick up the damn phone! I thought you were dead.”
“You left a message at one in the damn morning… Who the hell leaves a message at one in the damn morning?”
“Yeah, and? Normal people do, idiot. I had to leave something for when you woke up, duh.”
“What is it, Gilbert? What was so important that you had to leave a message at one in the damn morning, huh?” Alfred pocketed his mirror with an overdramatic sigh, after having had checked his hair and fixed his glasses. The shoot had left him askew, not that he cared. The bed-head look suited him. Just like every other look in existence.
“I couldn’t open the mayo.”
Blue eyes gazed, torn between amusement, irritation, and something akin to… the art of murder. “Damn good thing I left the fucking thing off. Screen’s messed up anyway.” He paused for a moment, shoving the albino’s shoulder. “And why the hell does that concern me?!”
“Nothing. Just wanted to rant about it.”
“And you just couldn’t wait till the next morning. You’re in your days, aren’t you?”
“Fuck off. You’re the one that just vanished into the night. I found poor Kiku all alone in his apartment. Some friend you are.” Gilbert trudged through the air conditioned halls of the college, absently flipping through a video game magazine as he whined to Alfred. He was still growing, and he needed food. Greasy food. He thought it important to tell Alfred. “So are you gonna tell me, hotshot?”
“You’re so nosy.”
“This coming from you?”
“Shut up.”
“Hanging out with your faggot daddy?”
“I said cut it out, Gilbert.” Alfred’s face heated at the comment, reminding himself exactly why he went by his biological father’s name. He was in no way proud to call Bonnefoy his ‘dad’.
“Or what? What’re you gonna do? Beat my face in?” He skipped up the steps, grabbing one of the cheerleaders’ tush with an awkward wink, earning himself a giggle or two. “Ladies, why so hot?”
“Why so slutty?” Muttered, but Gilbert caught them. Being an egotistical, conceited blonde himself, he was sure picky when it came to the opposite sex. Something the German had no trouble with. The blonder, the easier. Stereotypes, stereotypes. How he loved it when they were right. “I was kind of helping someone out. A friend.” The American let out at last, promptly ignoring the females that sent winks his way. Maybe he should flirt with them…
“A friend that obviously wasn’t Kiku.”
“I know more people other than you two, geez.” Alfred flashed the girls a million dollar grin before crossing the doors into the cafeteria. He really loved his little private college. His stepdad for one hadn’t been too ecstatic about him skipping out on an upscale university to go to a more private institute. No use in spending countless years studying for shit. He had better things to do in life. Besides, Alfred had natural talents he needed to flaunt to its maximum. Like his looks. The teen just loved to strut his stuff for the camera, loved how each girl on campus swooned over him whenever he walked by, interested or not. Maybe it was his looks, his charisma or his money; he didn’t give a damn.
Gilbert pointedly ignored the words as he made his way towards a particular student, smoothly sliding his arms across her back and leaning in. Creepily sniffing at long, curly locks that fell in waves over lean shoulders. Peach with a touch of coconut; always the same. “Hey there, you pretty thing.”
“Keep your hands to yourself, loser.”
“Aw, come on. I know you want a piece of the Gil.”
“Now that sounded disgusting.” Alfred rolled his eyes while shoving the albino away, leaning against the wall across the young woman. “This guy really needs to get a life. How are you, babe? How’s Roderich doing?”
Brown curls bounced as she shook her head, a harmonious laugh reaching all of their ears. That singular laugh that could only belong to a singer-to-be. “He’s doing well. Thanks for asking, Al.”
“Haven’t seen him in a while though.” Several other students walked by, stopping by the blonde’s side to give him a firm handshake or even a fist-bump. “He’s bailed on rehearsal the past two weeks, I’ve heard.”
“Oh, that. He’s been having some… issues-” Green eyes looked off as she fidgeted uncomfortably, but neither male seemed to have noticed.
Gilbert pressed on. “So what do you say, Lizzie? I’ll play your piano while you sing my note.”
“First of all. It’s Elizaveta, not Lizzie. Second, I agree with Al. You are just disgusting.”
“Ouch, man. Burn.”
“Fuck it. It’s your loss, baby.”
“Dude, listen to me. If you want to land a lady like Liz-Elizaveta, you’ve got to be sensitive. Elegant and charming, you know.” Alfred was kind enough to explain as he gestured his hand towards the young woman standing before them, arms crossed at her lower stomach.
“I’m standing right here, you know.” Green eyes narrowed dangerously, irritation nearing its peak. She really didn’t mind Alfred; he was polite in a childish sort of way. It was Gilbert that made her thin eyebrows twitch. That stupid, perverted and downright vulgar creature.
“You know I’m messing with you. We know you have eyes solely for Roderich.”
“Not that I really care for that. I’ll make you fall for the awesomeness that is me.”
“Get a life, man.” Alfred shoved him for the nth time that morning. He was starting to see a pattern. “Now, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m getting hungry.” Clapping his hands together, he rubbed them as if fending off the cold.
“When aren’t you?”
“What’s the big deal? I’m a growing guy, I need my food.”
“That’s exactly why I wanted to tell you about the mayo, man! See? You do understand me after all.” Gilbert high-fived him as they jogged over to the line, grabbing some sodas from the refrigerators. The German didn’t need ask what his friend was about to order. One hamburger with extra everything.
“These two are just hopeless.”
After an hour long lunch break filled with more arguments of the night before and Gilbert’s mayonnaise meltdown, they were back in class. They meet up with Kiku for history, and then split up at the next block. Alfred doodled his way through biology and slept through French lab. Not that he needed much of either since he was somewhat good in bio and was almost fluent in the language. He was sure he’d ace the classes, whether he paid attention or not.
By four in the afternoon, the tall blonde was free. Everyone was already outside waiting for him, including a moody Natalya that sat by the benches powdering her nose.
“And finally the great Jones is out of class. I say we hit the movies for an early showing then crash Kiku’s place for some video games.” Gilbert grinned at his apparently brilliant suggestion which no one, in fact, protested to. Maybe Kiku had, but no one seemed to have noticed. “So, Lizzie. You buy the popcorn, I get your drink.”
“Forget you, I’m going home.”
“And leave me with this herd of hyenas, I don’t think so. You go, I go too.” Natalya was quick to complain. She didn’t mind hanging out with the boys if Alfred was there, but there was no way she was about to damage her reputation by hanging out with them alone. Hell, you’d risk your reputation just by being in league with the idiotic German kid. Much to her dismay, if Elizaveta bailed, then she’d do so too.
“I’ve got to check on Roderich.” The brunette murmured just loud enough for those closest to hear, Natalya instantly nodded out of obligation.
Gilbert instantly opened his mouth to retort but Alfred immediately grabbed a strong hold of his shoulder, nearly fracturing it with the force alone. Trust the American to be a perfect gentleman when he wanted to. “You go right ahead then, girls. It’ll just be a guys’ night out then.”
“A guys’ night out- without you.” Kiku spoke up finally, and all heads immediately turned to him in question.
Alfred dramatically pressed the palm of his hand to his chest, feigning being insulted. “Oh, I see how it is. One night and you already disowned me as a friend. Why, Kiku? I thought we were buddies, dude.”
“A-Alfred-san…” The Asian stuttered when all eyes turned to him. Not all of them too friendly. “Don’t you have to go down to the coffee shop? Remember?”
The grin just dropped from existence when it hit him. He had a job now. The reality of it hadn’t set in until just then, when he was faced with the obligation of ditching his friends… to go work. The closest thing he’d ever had to a working experience was probably a ‘take your kid to work’ day back when he was ten. Francis had made him sit behind his desk and slip papers into a paper shredder. And let it be known, it was freaking fun. But he wasn’t about to shred papers at a coffee shop. Sure he was a people person; he’d be bringing in costumers by the dozens… but he still had to ditch a night out with the guys. A few nights out. A whole damn week’s worth of nights out.
“We can always stop by the coffee shop and then be on our way, eh?” Gilbert asked with a crooked smirk, not getting the sudden frown that made its way onto Alfred’s features. “No big.”
“It’s not that.”
“Well?” Elizaveta prodded a bit, intrigue winning her over. Red was beginning to spread across the American’s pale cheeks. This was just about to get good.
“Oh ho ho. I have a feeling… this is why Alfie just… poof… vanished last night. Am I right? Huh, am I?” Mock punching Alfred’s side, Gilbert winked, earning himself another shove. “Out with it, pretty boy.”
“Well, it’s… You see. Just… stuff. And stuff. You know?” He scratched his cheek, laughing nervously at the heavy attention he was now getting. “I kind of… got a job… and stuff.” The entire group went silent. “What?”
“Wait. You’re telling me that… you got a job? Alfred F. Jones got a job? What is this world coming to? Is it twenty-twelve without me noticing?” Elizaveta propped her hands on her hips, shaking her head incredulously. Her mouth was agape, trying to spit out the laughter that was still struggling to break free. The others’ beat her to it when they finally busted out noisily.
“It’s really not that funny, guys. Normal people get jobs, you know.”
“You’re far from normal, dude. You freaking bleed cash. The hell’s the big idea?”
“No, I don’t ‘bleed cash’. My old man, does. I just don’t feel like going to him for every little thing.” Kiku stared at the blonde momentarily before shifting away. Pieces were slowly slipping into place.
“Since when?”
“Since now, Gilbert. So just shut the hell up and leave me alone.”
“Oh, how defensive.”
Alfred shoved his way through the small crowd, not bothering to look back at his so called friends. He waved them off and shoved his hands into his pockets, fighting off the sudden annoyance that settled onto his shoulders. He tried to keep in mind the reason why he even signed up for the job, but not even the thought of seeing those gorgeous eyes again made his mood lighten. Why was he even in a bad mood in the first place? He joked around all the time. Gilbert has said worse things before, even. “The hell’s wrong with me.” Trudging reluctantly through the campus gates, he started his long walk towards his final destination.
-----
“I’m quite sure I don’t have to be too thorough on this. We have Tall, Grande, and Venti. Once the order is put into the computer, make sure to ask for the costumer’s name and write it on the cup size of choice. Then pass it to your partner who’ll proceed to make the actual coffee or tea.” The manager’s strong voice made Alfred fidget uncomfortably. Those brown eyes seemed to stare right into his soul as he broke down the rules for his newest employee. “If the costumer requires any sort of pastry, you are authorized to serve it. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” The young man saluted before dropping his hand to tie his green apron at mid back.
“Excellent. Marco will be keeping an eye on you for the rest of the evening. He’ll be in charge of teaching you how to work the cash register and other things until you complete your training.” From behind his new boss, another young man waved. Alfred greeted him with a smile. “Good luck, son.”
With a nod, the short man disappeared into his office leaving Jones with his new co-worker, who smelled strongly of tobacco. They shook hands. “Alfred Jones at your service.”
“Marco Rodriguez.” He didn’t say another word as he turned on his heels and headed towards the front of the café.
Alfred was left alone for a moment, blinking, slightly thrown off at the not so friendly behavior of his work partner for the shift. He hadn’t said anything wrong, he was sure. Sure he had thought of commenting something on the color of his skin; maybe ask him where he was from due to his strong accent. Was he a part-time mind reader? He was rambling. Furrowing his eyebrows, Alfred shook his head and walked out; determined to make some peace. No one disliked Alfred Jones. It just wasn’t possible. His mind couldn’t even compute the fact.
The evening at the shop was fairly quiet, nothing abnormal for a weeknight he was told. It was an easy and mellow flow that did wonders for his training. In less than an hour, he was already taking orders and dispatching cakes and cold-cut sandwiches. Throughout the evening he came to understand that Marco had nothing personal against him, that it was just his way of being. Weary of strangers was all. But before the night was over, they joked and yelled out orders like life-long mates, laughing at the ridiculous amount of costumers that attempted to flirt with the newest recruit.
All in all, it proved to be a fun experience for Alfred. A new one that he was sure was going to take some time getting used to, but he could see himself continuing working there for the rest of the semester. Or for as long as he wished. Marco promised him that if things went well for the next couple of days, he’d be honored to train him in the coffee making business. “You’d make a good barista, Al. If you can hold still long enough to steam the drink.” Alfred had to grin at that. He liked his job.
Twilight gave way into night, and the city lights were just as breathtaking as always even through the fogged glass. Armed with a bottle of Windex and a clean rag, Alfred moved across the nearly empty café, polishing the tables with exquisite care. He smiled at a mother sitting in one of the larger booths with her young daughter, apparently taking advantage of the wireless internet for her homework or something of the sort. While cleaning the table behind their own, he stole a glance at the laptop. They were using a webcam. On the screen was a man, waving with a bright smile with a sunny background. The dad, most likely. Away on business and- Alfred swallowed hard and continued his way.
“Done already?”
“Pretty much. All the other tables are still taken. Guess I’ll wait them out.” Leaning over the counter, Alfred placed the bottle on a shelf, throwing the rag along with it. “Got anything else for me?”
“Nah. Just another hour till closing. Hang around and clean up whatever gets out of place. That way we won’t have much of a mess after it’s lights out.” Marco was restocking the cups and cardboard holders, but took a moment to glance down at the blonde. “What’s with the face? Tired already?”
“What makes you think I’m tired?” He half laughed, half scoffed at the statement.
“You look it.”
Alfred quirked his the corner of his lip in an indifferent expression and shrugged. “It’s been a long couple of nights I guess. Had forgotten I had to stop by today so I kind of went to bed late.”
“You looking for someone?” Blue eyes narrowed at the dark-skinned employee. He must be a mind reader. “You’ve been hawking the crowd ever since you got here.” Marco smirked once he got a load of the look on Alfred’s face. He loved it when he was able to read people like a book, and be right most of the times.
“Just taking note. Noticing why people refer to New York as the melting pot of the US. I mean, have you even noticed how many different people step into this place? It’s amazing.”
“Stop bullshitting me and tell me what’s up.”
“What the hell makes you think I’m bullshitting?”
“Blue eyed, blonde haired white boy speaking as if he understands shit about the world.”
“That’s racist!”
“Not more racist than what you thought when you first laid eyes on me.”
Alfred stared at him, dead on. A look of total horror on his face as he slowly mouthed out the next words. “Are you a psychic?”
Marco snorted at that, taking the rag his co-worker had disposed of before and wiping the counter. “No, I just study people. It’s my major.”
College student; that explained a lot. “Psychology?”
“Anthropology.”
“The hell does one thing have to do with the other?”
“That’s exactly why I didn’t believe the whole melting pot theory.”
Pressing his fingertips to his temples, Alfred sighed. “Okay, okay, fine. You got me.”
“Well? Out with it, man.”
Leaning against the counter, the American crossed his arms in front of his chest as he scanned the surrounding area. He briefly took note of the group of businessmen huddled in a far off corner, talking business apparently, some typing away at their computer while others tapped on their PDAs. No sign of a short head of blonde hair. A few teenagers sat by the door, talking in low voices as they pointed out at some article of a magazine that was splayed on the table before them. He recognized one of them from his modeling class.
Marco was patient. He stared calmly as the blonde struggled to find something to say. It was far too easy to read the young man. Even with his carefree façade, that wasn’t false most of the times, it was easy to see that something else lied in the shadows.
“Just waiting for The One to simply walk in through those doors!” Alfred beamed at the other, scratching his cheek as he said so. He slammed his hand down on the counter, grinning like a madman enjoying a cup of ice cream. “It’s almost closing time and I’m hungry. Fix me up a latte will ya’?”
“Sure thing, bro.” Without pressing the matter, Marco went about and pulled out a piece of chocolate cake while at it. “On me.”
“Thanks, man.” His smile never faltered as he slipped a plastic spoon into the deliciously moist cake. Its taste and feel reminding him of just how wonderful Arthur’s lips had felt against his the night before.
_______________________________________________________________________________
AN: Another rather slow chapter. Still trying to work out some background elements, but here's to hoping the next chapter will be more exciting. xD
You are all so lovely! Those reviews. The support. It's just amazing. ; v ; /hands out cookies to everyone. ~
Genre: Romance, drama, AU.
Pairings: USxUK, slight FrUK.
Rating: NC-17 / M
Warnings: Language, strong sexual content, adult themes, alcohol and some drug use.
Summary: Arthur Kirkland had only intended to dance away his stress and haunting past; never would he have thought in a million years, that on that night, on that particular nightclub, he would meet the one person who would change his life forever.
Slow techno music wafted through the air of the white room, making the subjects of that morning sway lightly to the catchy rhythm as consecutive flashes of light caught their movements. Shoes screeched against the white polished floor, screaming ‘amateur’ to anyone who walked into the exclusive art lab that on that day had been turned into a photo studio. Both the photography and modeling students had been brought in to do some hands on research. Each student would be graded according to how many poses and shots from those that were listed they were able to achieve. It seemed like a promising day.
“Keep eating like that and you won’t be able to fit into those designer jeans anymore.” Long silver hair clouded his line of view as he reached for another donut. “Seriously, Alfred.”
“It’s just one donut, Nat. How much harm can it do?” The blonde flashed his classmate a smile while serving himself some punch. “They wouldn’t have put food in a photo session if it wasn’t meant to be eaten. Haven’t gotten a thing in my stomach since breakfast.”
Pale blue eyes stared at him with a permanent frown etched into them. Where Alfred was popular for his charisma and bright attitude, Natalya was best known for her stoic features. All grace and aggressive elegance. “That’s because it’s for the photography students. Not the modeling students.”
“Aw, come on. Don’t be afraid of putting on a little weight. Nothing you can’t lose later.”
“Not all of us have your metabolism.” The young woman stared at the table longingly before heading back to her other classmates; away from the temptation.
“Suit yourself then. More for me.” Alfred flashed himself a grin and reached for another donut, tasting the sugary coat on his tongue as it melted away. He loved eating; it was as simple as that. If it tasted good, he didn’t think twice about chugging it down. Like his old man once said: ‘when you die, all you take with you is what you’ve seen and what you’ve eaten.’ No words could ever ring truer.
His punch was bitter, though. It wasn’t that it tasted bad, he thought, just that it could have been sweeter. The grin faded into a small and knowing smile as he caught the unintentional metaphor. Not bittersweet; more like bitter but good. Delicious, even. Just like him. ‘I think I’m going crazy. Why the hell did I even do that?’ Alfred hadn’t given it much thought once he had reached his apartment the night before. He felt he’d probably spoil the evening if he decided to over-think the events that lead him into becoming a grinning goon on the way back. He wasn’t stupid; he knew what a crush was and what it felt like. He’d just never thought it possible, to fall for a stodgy old man.
Did that make him… gay?
The smile vanished in its entirety. Of course it did… He couldn’t be. It was just a man crush. Perfectly understandable and healthy. And normal.
“-… over here, da-ze.”
Alfred gasped when someone slammed into him, dragging his attention back to the now. “Hey, what the hell.” The donut slipped from his hand and onto his shoe. “That was rude.”
“I’ve been yelling from across the room! Your turn’s up, man.”
“Cool it, mister Korean wonder. Just got a little distracted.” The blonde beamed down at his friend, patting him on the head.
“I’m not gonna miss lunch again because of you. Get your ass on that set so I can take the photos already and get it over with.” The kid gestured his camera towards the white set of boxes neatly arranged against a white background. It was all intentionally placed in the large room, across the wall-long rows of glass windows. Apparently the glare from the morning sun made it harder for the photographs to be properly taken; it was all part of the exam.
“You mean my fine ass, right? Right, Kimchi?” He laughed out, skipping towards the set before the shorter male could hit him.
“Don’t call me that, da-ze.”
“Dude, it’s easier than saying Im Young Soo all the damn time. Hit me up, baby.” Rolling his eyes, the short brunette began the session; but after the first few unmotivated shots, Alfred sagged into the decorative seat. “Can somebody put a song that doesn’t want me to commit suicide? Something more upbeat?”
“Now you’re just being a brat.”
“Aren’t I always?” The infamous grin was back. “Why not one of yours, Kimchi?”
The photographer didn’t protest. Instead, he let the camera hang from his neck while he rummaged his CD case, popping a disc into the radio once he decided on one suitable for his classmate’s demand. Upbeat hip hop blasted through the surround sound system, techno lacing into the catchy beat and making everyone’s foot tap along. “Satisfied?”
“Damn straight! That’s what I’m talking ‘bout.”
“Thank God.” Natalya added from the sidelines, crossing her long legs as she leaned back, ready to enjoy the view. It was no secret she had her pale eyes set on the American dream cockily posing for the camera. Who didn’t want a piece of Alfred Jones? She was just sure she’d be the one, and with good reason too. No one could compare to her stunning looks and curvaceous body; she completed him. Now, if only he were less oblivious to that fact.
“Come on, Al. Spunk it up a bit. Give me all you’ve got.” Young Soo spoke up over the music, moving across the room for different angle shots. “Wow the instructors like you always do.”
“Should I just smile then?” Alfred stood up straight, crossing his ankles coyly while framing his chin with his forefinger and thumb, a wink and a smile. The brunette snapped the shot. “Or should I show off my rockin’ abs?” He held his jacket open, showing off the polo underneath, corking his hip to the side. Another flash.
“Give me something more. The set is yours.”
“Something more, huh? Well let’s see.” He made a show of thinking it over, which earned a few more shots. To be honest, his mind was placed on other things entirely; his attention kept wandering to someone else. Alfred would have to improvise to get a good grade, and improvising was one of the things he did best. “Am I the only one that thinks this too… what’s the word, bland?” He strutted over to the window; holding on to both sides as he leaned over to look outside, but instead turned his head to look behind him with a smug smirk. Three more photos.
After kicking back and posing in a chair, he dramatically moved across the room freely, leaning against the walls in old gangster poses. After snatching a hat off his Italian friend, he posed as if holding a long gun under his arm. “I call this one, the Public Enemy.” That got a few laughs from the other’s there. Leave it to Alfred, bringing life and fun into something so monotonous. “Let’s see… what else. Someone, anyone! Suggestions!”
“On the floor!” Someone called out, triggering a whole new fit of laughter and a few giggles. The females huddled in, whispering in low voices, but their eyes still trained on the American stud.
“Nice one.” Unceremoniously, Alfred let himself fall onto the floor and leaned back, propped up on his elbows. That pose alone earned itself a few dozen shots.
“Come on, guys. Group shot!” Cheers erupted across the room as most of the modeling students followed the suggestion, making their way towards the center of the room and just diving onto the floor. Not missing the opportunity, one girl draped her arm across Alfred’s chest, nearly pressing nose to nose had it not been for Natalya who shoved her off as discreetly as possible. Alfred remained blissfully oblivious of the glares shot between the females.
The boys posed together, and then mingled with the girls for a few more poses and pictures before getting shooed off by Young Soo. “Y’all already got your chance, guys. Quit ruining my shots, Alfred’s mine.”
“Aw, Kimchi. Do I need to take you out to dinner now?”
“Yes, in fact. Mexican on you, da-ze.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, decorum returned to the models and quickly retook their seats on the sidelines, letting the team work for their grade. “Bummer. Bet those photos came out nice.”
“You’ll see them once they get graded. Now let’s just wrap this up so I can go lunch.”
“Snap away, man. Snap away.”
-----
“Dude; where the hell were you yesterday?! I called you like, a million times and you didn’t pick up the damn phone! I thought you were dead.”
“You left a message at one in the damn morning… Who the hell leaves a message at one in the damn morning?”
“Yeah, and? Normal people do, idiot. I had to leave something for when you woke up, duh.”
“What is it, Gilbert? What was so important that you had to leave a message at one in the damn morning, huh?” Alfred pocketed his mirror with an overdramatic sigh, after having had checked his hair and fixed his glasses. The shoot had left him askew, not that he cared. The bed-head look suited him. Just like every other look in existence.
“I couldn’t open the mayo.”
Blue eyes gazed, torn between amusement, irritation, and something akin to… the art of murder. “Damn good thing I left the fucking thing off. Screen’s messed up anyway.” He paused for a moment, shoving the albino’s shoulder. “And why the hell does that concern me?!”
“Nothing. Just wanted to rant about it.”
“And you just couldn’t wait till the next morning. You’re in your days, aren’t you?”
“Fuck off. You’re the one that just vanished into the night. I found poor Kiku all alone in his apartment. Some friend you are.” Gilbert trudged through the air conditioned halls of the college, absently flipping through a video game magazine as he whined to Alfred. He was still growing, and he needed food. Greasy food. He thought it important to tell Alfred. “So are you gonna tell me, hotshot?”
“You’re so nosy.”
“This coming from you?”
“Shut up.”
“Hanging out with your faggot daddy?”
“I said cut it out, Gilbert.” Alfred’s face heated at the comment, reminding himself exactly why he went by his biological father’s name. He was in no way proud to call Bonnefoy his ‘dad’.
“Or what? What’re you gonna do? Beat my face in?” He skipped up the steps, grabbing one of the cheerleaders’ tush with an awkward wink, earning himself a giggle or two. “Ladies, why so hot?”
“Why so slutty?” Muttered, but Gilbert caught them. Being an egotistical, conceited blonde himself, he was sure picky when it came to the opposite sex. Something the German had no trouble with. The blonder, the easier. Stereotypes, stereotypes. How he loved it when they were right. “I was kind of helping someone out. A friend.” The American let out at last, promptly ignoring the females that sent winks his way. Maybe he should flirt with them…
“A friend that obviously wasn’t Kiku.”
“I know more people other than you two, geez.” Alfred flashed the girls a million dollar grin before crossing the doors into the cafeteria. He really loved his little private college. His stepdad for one hadn’t been too ecstatic about him skipping out on an upscale university to go to a more private institute. No use in spending countless years studying for shit. He had better things to do in life. Besides, Alfred had natural talents he needed to flaunt to its maximum. Like his looks. The teen just loved to strut his stuff for the camera, loved how each girl on campus swooned over him whenever he walked by, interested or not. Maybe it was his looks, his charisma or his money; he didn’t give a damn.
Gilbert pointedly ignored the words as he made his way towards a particular student, smoothly sliding his arms across her back and leaning in. Creepily sniffing at long, curly locks that fell in waves over lean shoulders. Peach with a touch of coconut; always the same. “Hey there, you pretty thing.”
“Keep your hands to yourself, loser.”
“Aw, come on. I know you want a piece of the Gil.”
“Now that sounded disgusting.” Alfred rolled his eyes while shoving the albino away, leaning against the wall across the young woman. “This guy really needs to get a life. How are you, babe? How’s Roderich doing?”
Brown curls bounced as she shook her head, a harmonious laugh reaching all of their ears. That singular laugh that could only belong to a singer-to-be. “He’s doing well. Thanks for asking, Al.”
“Haven’t seen him in a while though.” Several other students walked by, stopping by the blonde’s side to give him a firm handshake or even a fist-bump. “He’s bailed on rehearsal the past two weeks, I’ve heard.”
“Oh, that. He’s been having some… issues-” Green eyes looked off as she fidgeted uncomfortably, but neither male seemed to have noticed.
Gilbert pressed on. “So what do you say, Lizzie? I’ll play your piano while you sing my note.”
“First of all. It’s Elizaveta, not Lizzie. Second, I agree with Al. You are just disgusting.”
“Ouch, man. Burn.”
“Fuck it. It’s your loss, baby.”
“Dude, listen to me. If you want to land a lady like Liz-Elizaveta, you’ve got to be sensitive. Elegant and charming, you know.” Alfred was kind enough to explain as he gestured his hand towards the young woman standing before them, arms crossed at her lower stomach.
“I’m standing right here, you know.” Green eyes narrowed dangerously, irritation nearing its peak. She really didn’t mind Alfred; he was polite in a childish sort of way. It was Gilbert that made her thin eyebrows twitch. That stupid, perverted and downright vulgar creature.
“You know I’m messing with you. We know you have eyes solely for Roderich.”
“Not that I really care for that. I’ll make you fall for the awesomeness that is me.”
“Get a life, man.” Alfred shoved him for the nth time that morning. He was starting to see a pattern. “Now, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m getting hungry.” Clapping his hands together, he rubbed them as if fending off the cold.
“When aren’t you?”
“What’s the big deal? I’m a growing guy, I need my food.”
“That’s exactly why I wanted to tell you about the mayo, man! See? You do understand me after all.” Gilbert high-fived him as they jogged over to the line, grabbing some sodas from the refrigerators. The German didn’t need ask what his friend was about to order. One hamburger with extra everything.
“These two are just hopeless.”
After an hour long lunch break filled with more arguments of the night before and Gilbert’s mayonnaise meltdown, they were back in class. They meet up with Kiku for history, and then split up at the next block. Alfred doodled his way through biology and slept through French lab. Not that he needed much of either since he was somewhat good in bio and was almost fluent in the language. He was sure he’d ace the classes, whether he paid attention or not.
By four in the afternoon, the tall blonde was free. Everyone was already outside waiting for him, including a moody Natalya that sat by the benches powdering her nose.
“And finally the great Jones is out of class. I say we hit the movies for an early showing then crash Kiku’s place for some video games.” Gilbert grinned at his apparently brilliant suggestion which no one, in fact, protested to. Maybe Kiku had, but no one seemed to have noticed. “So, Lizzie. You buy the popcorn, I get your drink.”
“Forget you, I’m going home.”
“And leave me with this herd of hyenas, I don’t think so. You go, I go too.” Natalya was quick to complain. She didn’t mind hanging out with the boys if Alfred was there, but there was no way she was about to damage her reputation by hanging out with them alone. Hell, you’d risk your reputation just by being in league with the idiotic German kid. Much to her dismay, if Elizaveta bailed, then she’d do so too.
“I’ve got to check on Roderich.” The brunette murmured just loud enough for those closest to hear, Natalya instantly nodded out of obligation.
Gilbert instantly opened his mouth to retort but Alfred immediately grabbed a strong hold of his shoulder, nearly fracturing it with the force alone. Trust the American to be a perfect gentleman when he wanted to. “You go right ahead then, girls. It’ll just be a guys’ night out then.”
“A guys’ night out- without you.” Kiku spoke up finally, and all heads immediately turned to him in question.
Alfred dramatically pressed the palm of his hand to his chest, feigning being insulted. “Oh, I see how it is. One night and you already disowned me as a friend. Why, Kiku? I thought we were buddies, dude.”
“A-Alfred-san…” The Asian stuttered when all eyes turned to him. Not all of them too friendly. “Don’t you have to go down to the coffee shop? Remember?”
The grin just dropped from existence when it hit him. He had a job now. The reality of it hadn’t set in until just then, when he was faced with the obligation of ditching his friends… to go work. The closest thing he’d ever had to a working experience was probably a ‘take your kid to work’ day back when he was ten. Francis had made him sit behind his desk and slip papers into a paper shredder. And let it be known, it was freaking fun. But he wasn’t about to shred papers at a coffee shop. Sure he was a people person; he’d be bringing in costumers by the dozens… but he still had to ditch a night out with the guys. A few nights out. A whole damn week’s worth of nights out.
“We can always stop by the coffee shop and then be on our way, eh?” Gilbert asked with a crooked smirk, not getting the sudden frown that made its way onto Alfred’s features. “No big.”
“It’s not that.”
“Well?” Elizaveta prodded a bit, intrigue winning her over. Red was beginning to spread across the American’s pale cheeks. This was just about to get good.
“Oh ho ho. I have a feeling… this is why Alfie just… poof… vanished last night. Am I right? Huh, am I?” Mock punching Alfred’s side, Gilbert winked, earning himself another shove. “Out with it, pretty boy.”
“Well, it’s… You see. Just… stuff. And stuff. You know?” He scratched his cheek, laughing nervously at the heavy attention he was now getting. “I kind of… got a job… and stuff.” The entire group went silent. “What?”
“Wait. You’re telling me that… you got a job? Alfred F. Jones got a job? What is this world coming to? Is it twenty-twelve without me noticing?” Elizaveta propped her hands on her hips, shaking her head incredulously. Her mouth was agape, trying to spit out the laughter that was still struggling to break free. The others’ beat her to it when they finally busted out noisily.
“It’s really not that funny, guys. Normal people get jobs, you know.”
“You’re far from normal, dude. You freaking bleed cash. The hell’s the big idea?”
“No, I don’t ‘bleed cash’. My old man, does. I just don’t feel like going to him for every little thing.” Kiku stared at the blonde momentarily before shifting away. Pieces were slowly slipping into place.
“Since when?”
“Since now, Gilbert. So just shut the hell up and leave me alone.”
“Oh, how defensive.”
Alfred shoved his way through the small crowd, not bothering to look back at his so called friends. He waved them off and shoved his hands into his pockets, fighting off the sudden annoyance that settled onto his shoulders. He tried to keep in mind the reason why he even signed up for the job, but not even the thought of seeing those gorgeous eyes again made his mood lighten. Why was he even in a bad mood in the first place? He joked around all the time. Gilbert has said worse things before, even. “The hell’s wrong with me.” Trudging reluctantly through the campus gates, he started his long walk towards his final destination.
-----
“I’m quite sure I don’t have to be too thorough on this. We have Tall, Grande, and Venti. Once the order is put into the computer, make sure to ask for the costumer’s name and write it on the cup size of choice. Then pass it to your partner who’ll proceed to make the actual coffee or tea.” The manager’s strong voice made Alfred fidget uncomfortably. Those brown eyes seemed to stare right into his soul as he broke down the rules for his newest employee. “If the costumer requires any sort of pastry, you are authorized to serve it. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” The young man saluted before dropping his hand to tie his green apron at mid back.
“Excellent. Marco will be keeping an eye on you for the rest of the evening. He’ll be in charge of teaching you how to work the cash register and other things until you complete your training.” From behind his new boss, another young man waved. Alfred greeted him with a smile. “Good luck, son.”
With a nod, the short man disappeared into his office leaving Jones with his new co-worker, who smelled strongly of tobacco. They shook hands. “Alfred Jones at your service.”
“Marco Rodriguez.” He didn’t say another word as he turned on his heels and headed towards the front of the café.
Alfred was left alone for a moment, blinking, slightly thrown off at the not so friendly behavior of his work partner for the shift. He hadn’t said anything wrong, he was sure. Sure he had thought of commenting something on the color of his skin; maybe ask him where he was from due to his strong accent. Was he a part-time mind reader? He was rambling. Furrowing his eyebrows, Alfred shook his head and walked out; determined to make some peace. No one disliked Alfred Jones. It just wasn’t possible. His mind couldn’t even compute the fact.
The evening at the shop was fairly quiet, nothing abnormal for a weeknight he was told. It was an easy and mellow flow that did wonders for his training. In less than an hour, he was already taking orders and dispatching cakes and cold-cut sandwiches. Throughout the evening he came to understand that Marco had nothing personal against him, that it was just his way of being. Weary of strangers was all. But before the night was over, they joked and yelled out orders like life-long mates, laughing at the ridiculous amount of costumers that attempted to flirt with the newest recruit.
All in all, it proved to be a fun experience for Alfred. A new one that he was sure was going to take some time getting used to, but he could see himself continuing working there for the rest of the semester. Or for as long as he wished. Marco promised him that if things went well for the next couple of days, he’d be honored to train him in the coffee making business. “You’d make a good barista, Al. If you can hold still long enough to steam the drink.” Alfred had to grin at that. He liked his job.
Twilight gave way into night, and the city lights were just as breathtaking as always even through the fogged glass. Armed with a bottle of Windex and a clean rag, Alfred moved across the nearly empty café, polishing the tables with exquisite care. He smiled at a mother sitting in one of the larger booths with her young daughter, apparently taking advantage of the wireless internet for her homework or something of the sort. While cleaning the table behind their own, he stole a glance at the laptop. They were using a webcam. On the screen was a man, waving with a bright smile with a sunny background. The dad, most likely. Away on business and- Alfred swallowed hard and continued his way.
“Done already?”
“Pretty much. All the other tables are still taken. Guess I’ll wait them out.” Leaning over the counter, Alfred placed the bottle on a shelf, throwing the rag along with it. “Got anything else for me?”
“Nah. Just another hour till closing. Hang around and clean up whatever gets out of place. That way we won’t have much of a mess after it’s lights out.” Marco was restocking the cups and cardboard holders, but took a moment to glance down at the blonde. “What’s with the face? Tired already?”
“What makes you think I’m tired?” He half laughed, half scoffed at the statement.
“You look it.”
Alfred quirked his the corner of his lip in an indifferent expression and shrugged. “It’s been a long couple of nights I guess. Had forgotten I had to stop by today so I kind of went to bed late.”
“You looking for someone?” Blue eyes narrowed at the dark-skinned employee. He must be a mind reader. “You’ve been hawking the crowd ever since you got here.” Marco smirked once he got a load of the look on Alfred’s face. He loved it when he was able to read people like a book, and be right most of the times.
“Just taking note. Noticing why people refer to New York as the melting pot of the US. I mean, have you even noticed how many different people step into this place? It’s amazing.”
“Stop bullshitting me and tell me what’s up.”
“What the hell makes you think I’m bullshitting?”
“Blue eyed, blonde haired white boy speaking as if he understands shit about the world.”
“That’s racist!”
“Not more racist than what you thought when you first laid eyes on me.”
Alfred stared at him, dead on. A look of total horror on his face as he slowly mouthed out the next words. “Are you a psychic?”
Marco snorted at that, taking the rag his co-worker had disposed of before and wiping the counter. “No, I just study people. It’s my major.”
College student; that explained a lot. “Psychology?”
“Anthropology.”
“The hell does one thing have to do with the other?”
“That’s exactly why I didn’t believe the whole melting pot theory.”
Pressing his fingertips to his temples, Alfred sighed. “Okay, okay, fine. You got me.”
“Well? Out with it, man.”
Leaning against the counter, the American crossed his arms in front of his chest as he scanned the surrounding area. He briefly took note of the group of businessmen huddled in a far off corner, talking business apparently, some typing away at their computer while others tapped on their PDAs. No sign of a short head of blonde hair. A few teenagers sat by the door, talking in low voices as they pointed out at some article of a magazine that was splayed on the table before them. He recognized one of them from his modeling class.
Marco was patient. He stared calmly as the blonde struggled to find something to say. It was far too easy to read the young man. Even with his carefree façade, that wasn’t false most of the times, it was easy to see that something else lied in the shadows.
“Just waiting for The One to simply walk in through those doors!” Alfred beamed at the other, scratching his cheek as he said so. He slammed his hand down on the counter, grinning like a madman enjoying a cup of ice cream. “It’s almost closing time and I’m hungry. Fix me up a latte will ya’?”
“Sure thing, bro.” Without pressing the matter, Marco went about and pulled out a piece of chocolate cake while at it. “On me.”
“Thanks, man.” His smile never faltered as he slipped a plastic spoon into the deliciously moist cake. Its taste and feel reminding him of just how wonderful Arthur’s lips had felt against his the night before.
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AN: Another rather slow chapter. Still trying to work out some background elements, but here's to hoping the next chapter will be more exciting. xD
You are all so lovely! Those reviews. The support. It's just amazing. ; v ; /hands out cookies to everyone. ~