A/N: I am terribly sorry for the long wait! But, thank you everyone who reviewed or followed or favorited this fanfiction. It gives me inspiration to write more! In this chapter, there will be RusAme, FrUk, USUK, and PruCan.

What We Want but Can't Have

Chapter Two

Alfred could not stop staring at Arthur. The shock was pretty much out of his system but the awkwardness was starting to take its place. Here, standing in the middle of his kitchen, was the man he had slept with for one fucking night. They weren't supposed to see each other again; they weren't supposed to be thinking about each other! But here the Briton stood, his horrified expression slowly turning into a more irritated one. Why was he staring at Alfred with that expression on his face? Oh, right. He had asked him a question and had yet to receive an answer.

"Um, yes. I am one of Francis' adopted sons." Alfred glanced down at the shiny white floor and finally noticed the broken coffee mug and spilled tea. "Let me clean that up for you."

"I don't need your help!" Arthur snapped as he stomped toward the paper towels.

Alfred watched him with a cocked eyebrow as the smaller man ripped a paper towel off and ran it under the sink. Sharp blue eyes caught the way Arthur's hands were shaking, even if they weren't doing it that much. Alfred, ignoring Arthur's protests, crouched down by the mess and began to pick up the glass shards. It wasn't long before the Brit was in front of him, resting on his knees. Alfred dared to glance at his thighs, noticing that the cloth of the underwear was riding up, which allowed the American to see more of the man's milky thighs. But it also allowed him to see something else when Arthur shifted just a tad. It was a purple mark close to his inner thigh.

"Excuse me," a rather angry, heavily accented voice growled. "Can you kindly stop staring at me?"

Just like the night they had first met, Alfred had been caught staring at him. He snorted and went back to his task of picking up the shards of glass. "I wasn't staring at you. Why the hell would I do something like that?" Alfred breathed out a small sigh as he tried to calm down. He wasn't so sure why he was getting so angry. "And why haven't you left yet?"

Alfred almost felt bad when he saw Arthur flinch from the corner of his eye. "I'm not some whore, Alfred. I don't have to leave the second someone is done with me."

The blue-eyed American peered at Arthur from over his lenses. "If I remember correctly, I was the one who left you." He smirked to himself as he stood up with the shards in his hand. He walked over to throw them away in the trashcan. He heard a sharp intake of breath come from the other, and that caused his smirk to widen.

"Obviously. We were in my car."

Alfred turned back around and leaned against the black marble counter as he watched Arthur scrubbing at the floor madly. "Well, anyway. Usually the person who sleeps with Francis is gone by the next morning." He shrugged. "I just wanted to know why you're still here."

Arthur's movements slowed until he was hardly moving at all. He stood up and faced Alfred, the tea-soaked paper towel clenched tightly in his hand. "Francis told me I could stay. In fact, he wants me to stay, and so do I." He glared at Alfred for a final time before he stalked toward the trashcan and threw the wet paper towel away. "Now, I would like to get a cup of tea without any disruptions."

Alfred stared at Arthur with wide eyes until he rolled his eyes. "Whatever." On that note, he walked out of the kitchen. His head was spinning. Of all the people that Francis had picked up, it just had to be this man! Not only that, but Francis had asked him to stay? Alfred remembered the time when he and Matthew had just been adopted. Francis had been in a relationship with a woman from Seychelles, but they had only been together for about three months. A little while later, they broke up because the woman wanted to move to France. Maybe Alfred will get lucky and Arthur and Francis won't start dating!

'But it sounds like they want to start dating each other.' Alfred scratched the back of his head as he headed toward the small staircase that led up to his and Matthew's bedroom along with their own bathroom. Damnit, he needed to get out of here.

He walked into his room and didn't even bother closing the door. He took his shirt off and replaced it with a random band t-shirt. Once he had on a pair of jeans and black converses, he turned on his phone and scrolled through his contacts. He made his way to the bathroom and placed the phone against his ear.

He needed an escape. Badly.

Alfred gasped sharply as Ivan kept hitting his sweet spot. He tightened his grip in the Russian's platinum blonde hair, and pushed his hips further into Ivan's. The only sounds that filled the air was the occasional grunt and moan from both boys and the bed creaking loudly from underneath them. Thankfully, Ivan's family was gone for the day.

The heat was pooling inside of Alfred's stomach, and he was ready to release it. It all felt so good, everywhere Ivan touched sent heat and shivers coursing through his body.

"I'm gonna cum," Ivan murmured hotly against Alfred's neck.

"M-me, too." Alfred gasped again, feeling as if he was floating. In past relationships, he almost always topped. But when it came to Ivan, he loved to be dominated. Of course they switched positions from time-to-time, but Alfred didn't mind knowing he was usually the one underneath the large Russian native.

A moment later, Alfred arched his back and came onto their chests. Not even a minute later, Ivan had cum as well. The two boys laid still for a moment with Ivan still hovering over the American so he wouldn't crush him. After a moment, Ivan pulled out of Alfred and laid down beside him. Alfred glanced at his boyfriend, noticing his usual smile was in place.

"That was nice, da?" His accent was deeper, something that usually happened to the Russian whenever he was tired.

"Yeah, it was." Alfred ran a hand through his now slightly disheveled blonde hair. Damn, he was exhausted. This was a usual side effect whenever he and Ivan had sex. Alfred stretched a bit before he slid underneath the covers. There was sweat covering his body, along with something else on his chest, but he just needed to rest for a little. He could take a shower later. He reached over to grab his glasses that were on the nightstand.

There was a small grunt from next to the drained nineteen year-old as Ivan slipped under the sheets as well. He reached forward to run a hand through Alfred's hair, careful not to touch his cowlick- it had proved to be a turn-on spot. "Are you okay, lyublyu?" he asked in concern.

Alfred jumped and turned his head so he was looking back at the violet-eyed man. "I'm fine!" But, honestly, was he? Now that they were finished, his thoughts drifted back to this morning. In better terms, they drifted back to Arthur. Arthur, who he had sex with. Arthur, who was now probably dating his "father". He really wanted to tell someone about this, but should he tell Ivan? His boyfriend could be pretty possessive at times. It wasn't like Alfred wanted to date Arthur or anything like that, but he would have to tell Ivan that he had slept with the Brit.

And it had only been three days since they broke up.

'But he was having sex with Kiku's brother!' a small voice inside of Alfred's head seemed to whisper. 'Would he really get mad when he was doing the same thing, really?'

Yes. No. Possibly. Alfred sighed inwardly just when he heard a buzzing sound coming from his phone. He rolled over to the edge of the bed and leaned down to grab his discarded jeans. He pulled his phone from his back pocket, and noticed he had three missed messages and two missed calls from none other than Gilbert Beilschmidt.

Message One: Jones, I'm warning you now. I would get out of the house before Francis gets home cause he told me he's got this "feisty little Brit" waiting for him when he gets there. I honestly don't care if you hear it, but I can't get in contact with Birdie (He's probably exhausted from what we did last night ;) and I don't want him to hear that shit! Text me when you get this.

Message Two: Does the name Arthur Kirkland ring a bell to you, cause I know for a fact I've heard that name before. I feel like I was around you when I heard that name. Anyway, this is bothering the shit out of me. Tell me if you remember that guy.

Message Three: WHAT THE FUCKING HELL?! JONES, CALL ME! DX

Alfred groaned inwardly and hung his head. Wonderful. This was just wonderful! Now Gilbert knew; who the hell was next. Alfred swung his legs over so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He winced when a sharp pain when through his hips. Not that he minded, of course. "Sorry, babe." Alfred leaned further down to put on his shirt. "But I've gotta go!"

"Oh." Ivan sounded a little sad, like he wanted to tell Alfred to stay, but couldn't. "Should I call you later tonight? Or maybe we could meet up tomorrow?"

Alfred had just slipped his boxers back on when his boyfriend said that. A small stab of guilt pierced through Alfred's heart. It was obvious the Russian was trying to be a better boyfriend, and it really was sweet. Maybe Alfred should tell him… But he couldn't right now. He had to hurry up and contact Gilbert before the loud Prussian told Matthew who would tell his best friend Lovino who would tell his boyfriend Antonio who would tell his close friend Francis! God, he needed to get on the phone!

"We can do both!" the American exclaimed as he quickly put his pants back on. He leaned over to kiss Ivan's lips quickly, and when he leaned away, he was smiling. "I'll talk to you tonight."

Ivan smiled and nodded. "I will keep my phone on me."

On that note, Alfred walked as quickly as he could without causing too much pain to his hips. Ivan lived in an apartment that was about a twenty minute walk from the apartment complex Alfred lived in. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was big enough for Ivan, his father and step-mother, and his younger sister Natalya. His older sister Katyusha had already graduated from college and was currently living with her boyfriend, a Turkish man named Sadiq Adnan. They were currently in Turkey visiting Sadiq's family.

When Alfred made it out of the complex, his phone rang again. He dug it out of his pocket, frowning when he saw the caller ID. "Jesus Christ," Alfred snapped when he answered the phone. "I got your stupid text messages! Calm down, dude!"

"Someone seems to be in a grumpy mood on this fine afternoon!" Gilbert said in a sing-song voice.

"I'm not in the mood for your jokes, Beilschmidt." Alfred glanced at the traffic before deciding to cross the streets. He hurried across, grunting a bit from the pain in his hips. Sometimes, this pain got on his nerves. "And I swear to god, if you told anyone, I will rip your dick off and feed it to that dog of yours!" He winced when he noticed a woman stare at him like he was insane and cover her young child's ears. This is how pissed Gilbert could make the usually care-free man.

"Calm down, Jones. I haven't told anyone and I don't plan on telling anyone!" There was a small snicker from the other end which caused Alfred to tighten his grip on his phone. If this man wasn't in a relationship with his brother, he would be on his way to murder him. "But, I am curious. When Francis told me he wanted to date this guy, I nearly choked on my beer!"

So Francis did want to date Arthur. Alfred closed his eyes and sighed softly. That meant he would be spending a lot more time with Arthur, and he did not want that. It would be more than awkward. "Anyway, it took me about an hour, but the awesome me finally remembered where I had heard that name before! Again, I nearly choked on my beer. I mean, how ironic is it that the guy you had a one night stand with is now dating your da- adoptive dad? Looks like you and Franny have a thing for attractive Brits with huge eyebrows!"

Alfred squeezed his phone once again, so hard that his knuckles turned white. "I don't have a "thing" for Arthur! The point of a one night stand is for you to have sex and that's it! You should never see this person again."

"So you don't think Arthur is attractive?"

"Of course I think he's attractive!" Alfred explained, remembering the way the Briton had moved; the way he rocked his hips against Alfred's; the way he had bounced so hard and fast the whole car had been moving with them; the intoxicating look he kept wearing; his pale, milky skin slick with sweat… He closed his blue eyes. Alfred should not be thinking of Arthur like this. No, he simply couldn't. "But just because I think he's attractive doesn't mean I want to be with him."

It was quiet on the other line, with the exception of a song that sounded a lot like a Scorpions hit. Of course Gilbert would be listening to them. Finally, he spoke. "Look, Jones. I'm going to give you some awesome advice. I would avoid Arthur at all costs! And don't act weird around him or Franny will probably realize something is up."

That advice didn't sound too bad, considering that it was coming from Gilbert. Instead of arguing, Alfred simply sighed. "Yeah, okay. Thanks, Beilschmidt. But I meant what I said; you tell anyone and I will… do something." He decided to leave at that as he passed by a restaurant with an outdoor seating area. "I'd like to keep this on the down low."

"You got it! By the way, do you think you could tell Birdie that he should totally become a stripper? Cause he did this awesome thing last-"

"Goodbye, Beilschmidt!"

He could hear Gilbert's loud laughter as he ended the call. Whatever Matthew saw in him was beyond Alfred's comprehension. But the albino did say he wouldn't tell anyone, which was a huge relief. He could just imagine this getting to Francis. How would the Frenchman react if he knew his adopted son had sex with the man he wanted to date? Alfred was his adopted son, which meant he could get rid of Alfred just like that. Obviously, Alfred knew this could happen at any given moment- hopefully, it won't- so he and Matthew had both gotten jobs. Matthew worked at one of the clothing stores not too far from their apartment while Alfred worked at a Barnes and Noble.

He really only had summers to work at the bookstore since he played college football. Many of the coaches and teammates told him he would most likely play for the NFL, which had been Alfred's dream since he first stumbled upon the oddly shaped pigskin. Alfred had to go to work tomorrow, but he didn't mind. In fact, he liked working in the bookstore. The people who shopped there were always so friendly, and the place had a small Starbucks inside. It was a win-win!

By the time Alfred made it to the apartment complex, it was three in the afternoon. Francis wouldn't be home for a couple more hours. Maybe Arthur would still be there…?

'No,' Alfred thought to himself. 'I have to follow Gilbert's advice and avoid Arthur!'

But, he couldn't blame himself for wanting to see the Brit. Obviously, he didn't have any romantic feelings for Arthur, however; he was nice to look at. Even his over-sized eyebrows complemented his features. Alfred groaned inwardly. He needed to stop this before he began to fantasize about Arthur. Well, ever since that certain night, he had let his mind wander to different scenarios involving the easily-annoyed Brit. His personal favorite had been the one where they were in a bed, with silky white sheets underneath them. Arthur was on top of them without any clothes on, so his milky skin blended nicely with the sheets. He was moving around, causing the sheets to ripple underneath him. His green eyes were glittering and dripping with lust and want. He would flip over on his stomach and wriggle his hips to edge Alfred on.

"Hurry up and take me, Alfred. I want your cock inside of me!"

"What floor, sir?"

Alfred almost gasped when his fantasy flew from his mind. When did he get on the elevator? He glanced at the man who had asked him that; it was an old man in a tweeted suit. He seemed impatient. "Oh, floor nineteen, please."

He raised an eyebrow, as if he didn't believe someone who looked like Alfred would live in the most expensive floor. Just when he was about to take his key to show the old man, the man pressed the button for floor nineteen along with floor seventeen. About two minutes later, Alfred walked off the elevator. Shit, he needed to take a steaming hot shower to get his mind off of you-know-who. Honestly.

When he made it to the apartment, he unlocked the door and walked inside. Matthew was now awake and was sitting on the pretty couch, holding a fluffy white pillow to his chest. Alfred raised an eyebrow when he looked at the TV, which was turned on to Grey's Anatomy. Alfred laughed quietly when he noticed how upset his brother looked.

"Why do you watch this shit if you're just going to cry, hm?"

"Shh!" Matthew snapped, his eyes still glued to the TV screen. "The doctor is about to perform a very complicated surgery on this mother! She could die, and it's her four year-old son's birthday!"

Alfred rolled his eyes as he walked into the kitchen. "Uh, okay." He hated sad shows like that. He was satisfied with his favorite show, which just so happened to be Supernatural. Obviously, there were sad episodes, but not every single one of them were sad!

Since Matthew was watching Netflix on the TV and not his computer, that most likely meant Arthur was gone. Why did Alfred feel so goddamn disappointed then?! He sighed loudly and walked toward the fridge, pulling out a Coke once he had opened the door. Maybe he should have gone to Kiku's house to play videogames with the quiet and reserved Japanese boy.

Yet again, he could just see if Kiku was on Xbox live…

He quickly finished his soda, and then headed upstairs. He walked into the bathroom that he shared with Matthew, and turned the cold water on. Before and after every football game, he would take the coldest shower possible. It helped clear his mind and made him focus on one thing. Right now, he needed to clear his mind of Arthur. He took his clothes off and got into the shower. His hips burned slightly when he moved a certain way, and he silently cursed Ivan.

Alfred just stood under the cold water for a moment, letting his thoughts drift to his junior year of college. He couldn't believe it; he would be a junior! Before Francis adopted him, he never imagined that he would be able to get into college. He wouldn't even let himself think about playing college football as the starting quarterback! He poured some shampoo into his hair and began to scrub his scalp. His plan had worked! He didn't think of the blonde haired Brit the whole time he was in the shower!

After his shower, he was putting on some sweats right when he heard the front door open. Alfred groaned inwardly when he heard a French and British accent. Why? Why? Why?!

"Alfred, could you come downstairs for a moment, si vous plait?" Francis called.

Alfred slipped on sweatshirt that had his university's name on it, then he walked out of his bedroom. His eyes narrowed slightly as he saw what Arthur and Francis were wearing. Well, it wasn't a surprise that Francis was wearing nice, flashy clothes; he always wore those. But Arthur was dressed in a suit and tie. They were probably going to go out for dinner. But why did Alfred need to come downstairs?

When he finally came into view, he noticed Matthew was sitting on the couch's armrest, and was leaning towards Francis and Arthur with interest in his violet eyes. Francis smiled at Alfred. "Alfred, I want you to meet Arthur Kirkland. I met him just yesterday, and he is simply incroyable et volupteux." Francis turned his blue eyes to Arthur and gave him a smirk.

Matthew, who knew French, raised an eyebrow and blushed a little. Alfred, thankfully, did not know French. He was extremely glad he didn't in this situation. He drew in a breath, realizing he had to act like himself right now or Francis would scold him for being rude. He smiled brightly and outstretched his hand.

"Hi, I'm Alfred Jones. Nice to meet you!"

No one else was looking at Arthur. No one else noticed the flicker in his emerald green eyes. No one noticed the way his lip curved downward. And no one noticed that, when he raised his hand, he was shaking just a little. "Lovely to meet you, Alfred."

Suddenly, Arthur's lust filled voice cried out in Alfred's mind, and it sent a shiver down a spine. "Your big, fat cock feels so fucking good! I can f-feel you moving in-inside of… me…"

Alfred and Arthur let go of each other's hand at the same time, each with slightly red faces. Maybe Arthur had been thinking the same thing Alfred had. He glanced at Francis. "So are you guys, like, dating?" He wanted to smack himself. Since when the hell did he care who Francis was dating?

Thankfully, the Frenchman didn't seem to notice, but he could feel his brother's eyes on him. He didn't even bother looking at Arthur. Francis smiled warmly at the Briton. "Yes, we are. Actually, that's why I called you down here." He nodded to Matthew as well. "The four of us are going out to dinner tonight! I would love for the three of you to get to know each other a little better."

Alfred swallowed and glanced at Arthur, who seemed to be interested in the floor. The two of them knew each other pretty well already. Why did Alfred seem so tongue-tied? He should be answering Francis!

"That's a good idea," Matthew said with a small smile on his face. "What restaurant are we going to?"

"I already made reservations at the Daniel." Francis ran a hand through his shoulder length blonde hair. "Which means a suit and tie for the two of you."

"Aye, aye," Alfred said with a mock salute. 'Just be yourself and no one will suspect a thing!' He had to keep remembering that or he would surely screw up. Without another word, Alfred and Matthew walked upstairs to their bedrooms. Alfred was just about to close his door, but a force stopped him. He turned his head to the side and saw his blonde haired brother standing behind him with his foot acting as a door stopper.

Alfred walked further in his bedroom. "I need to change; what do you want?"

"You know Arthur, don't you?"

Oh, shit.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Alfred asked as he opened his closet. He got his suit out, and laid it on his bed. He slipped his sweatshirt off and reached out to take his dark blue button up. "I've never seen him around here before."

When Matthew didn't say anything, Alfred turned around to look at his brother. "Mattie, please! Can I get some privacy?"

Matthew's gaze was hard, as if he was trying to read through Alfred's lie. Finally, he turned around and walked out of his brother's bedroom, silently. Alfred stood there for a moment, five buttons still undone. If Gilbert lied to Alfred and actually told Matthew… Oh, blood will be split.

Alfred finished dressing himself in silence. When he was done, he grabbed his phone and earbuds, and then headed back downstairs. Matthew was already there, sending a quick text. Francis opened the door, a small smile on his face. "Are we ready?"

Matthew and Arthur both nodded but Alfred was distracted. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket along with his earbuds. He didn't think he would be doing much talking right now. The blonde put the buds into his ear and turned his music on shuffle. The first song that played was by Melanie Martinez. Alfred smiled to himself as he pressed the home-screen button then went to his messages. Music helped everything; it always made him feel better.

When he and Matthew were in the orphanage, they would always turn on the radio and listen to the classic rock station. Every time they listened, it always made them smile. As the four walked to Daniel, Alfred texted Ivan and listened to his awesome music. When they made it to the extremely fancy restaurant, Alfred took his earbuds out and stuffed them and his phone in his back pocket. The hostess smiled and dipped her head when they walked inside.

"Good evening, Mr. Bonnefoy. Will it only be the four of you tonight?"

"Ah, oui."

Arthur glanced up at Francis, a questioning look in his eyes. He was probably wondering how such a fancy restaurant knew Francis by name. Boy, did he have a lot to learn. The hostess led them through the restaurant until they made it to a vacant circular table. "Your waiter will be with you in a moment," she said once she laid all of the menus down.

"Merci, ma cherie." Francis waited until the woman walked away before he turned to Arthur. "Well, I really wanted all of us to be here so the three of you can get to know each other a little."

Alfred wanted to tilt his head back and groan. It wasn't just because this was Arthur. He was a very out-going person, but he's more of a shut-in than most people think. He didn't like having conversations like this. He reached up to take his dream catcher necklace out from where it was hidden behind his button up. It was a nervous habit of his, to touch his necklace. Alfred decided he would let Matthew speak first.

"Well, I'm the older brother." He flashed Alfred a small smile. "I'm twenty at the moment, and Al here is nineteen. My birthday is July first and his is July fourth."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. He seemed intrigued. "Really? That's rather ironic for one of you to have your birthday on Canada's Independence Day and the other to have it on America's Independence Day." Matthew chuckled a bit sheepishly and ran a hand through his fluffy, blonde hair. "Yeah, a lot of people don't believe us."

A waiter came by to ask them for their drinks before he walked away again. Alfred sighed very quietly as he took off his blazer. He should have stayed with Ivan longer, he was beginning to crave that feeling of ecstasy and heat. Just like he felt when he was with Arthur…

"Alfred, are you feeling alright?"

Alfred looked up and noticed three pairs of eyes on him. Francis looked puzzled and concerned; Matthew looked suspicious yet concerned; and Arthur looked irritated. If everyone wasn't looking at him, he would glare right back at the Brit! Seems like he really does have a resting bitch face. "I'm fine. I'm just really tired."

It seemed like hours, but finally, everyone looked away from him. "You know, Alfred is probably going to play professional American football," Francis said. Alfred knew he wasn't supposed to see this, but he caught the slow movement of Francis's hand as it made its way to Arthur's thigh. The messy haired Brit didn't seem to mind but a light blush caught his features. "Is that so?" His voice, as flirtatious and sexy as it could be, seemed to carry nothing but fake interest. Every other person that knew of Alfred Jones's amazing football skills talked and talked and talked to him about it for sometimes hours. But this man just stared at him with uninterested eyes. No one else seemed to notice this.

"Yep," Alfred replied, his eyes on Arthur, silently challenging him to do something. "I'm the starting quarterback for my college team."

"And what college is that?" Arthur asked just as the waiter came back with their drinks.

Alfred took his time in taking a long sip of his wine-which was the only thing he could drink here besides cocktails- before he responded. "Hunter College." It was one of the best colleges near the Upper East Side; he truly did enjoy his freshman and sophomore years there. There was a sharp cough coming from across the table followed by a chuckle from Francis. "That's rather ironic, isn't it, Arthur?"

Alfred didn't like the sound of that

"What is?" He and Matthew both asked at the same time.

"Nothing!" Arthur answered way too quickly. "That's the college I'm going to be teaching at starting in September."

Alfred swallowed hard but he forced himself to smile. Oh, how the Fates were against him. But he didn't need to panic yet. Hunter College was rather large, so it was highly unlikely that the two would even see each other! Unless Arthur was one of his professors. He cleared his throat and kept his smile on his face as he stared at Arthur. "What are you going to be teaching?"

"Well, one class I'm going to be teaching is a 'literature of the sea' class," Arthur replied, obviously trying to sound as if nothing was wrong. "The other is going to be a European warfare class."

There was an inward sigh of relief that came from within Alfred. He hadn't signed up for either of those classes, even though that warfare class sounded interesting. "I'm not in either of those classes."

Arthur nodded but his eyes were shining with relief. The American quickly said something else when he realized what he just said may have sounded a bit rude. "B-but, I know some people who are taking the warfare class!"

"That's good." Arthur took a sip of his wine. He curled his lip in distaste and set the glass down. A conversation came up about Matthew and his hockey. Matthew had been the captain of his college's hockey team for the past two years, and he was really hoping that he would be captain again for his senior year in college. Obviously, he would become the captain again. Alfred has been to most of his games and he has seen the amazing skill Matthew has on the court.

The waiter came by and asked everyone for their order. Alfred glanced down at the menu, feeling a bit of guilt. He hated going to fancy restaurants like this because the food was so fucking expensive! The most expensive thing on the menu cost two hundred-twenty dollars! Alfred tried to think about how much his mother and father would benefit from having the money to go to places like this…

"Um, I'll have the pigeon, please." Alfred handed his menu to the waiter, who nodded to him. Matthew and Francis ordered easily, but Arthur seemed to be staring at something on the menu, as if he was having an inward battle. "I'll just have the Saint Jacques, please." The Brit handed his menu to the waiter, who nodded again and walked away.

"Bloody French food," Arthur mumbled under his breath.

Francis turned his head in Arthur's direction, his hand moving up and down. "What was that?" Arthur gave him a tight smile. "Nothing."

Alfred heard him, however, and he chuckled quietly. Arthur looked at him, his green eyes holding a glint of surprise. A small smile graced his lips before he took a sip of his wine. It was quiet at their table for about two minutes until Francis pointed toward the door. "Matthew, look at that."

Matthew and Alfred both turned around and saw two boys standing next to a beautiful woman with platinum blonde hair and an older looking man. Alfred had seen the slightly taller boy before, but he couldn't remember his name. Matthew, however, knew them. "Oh, it's Lukas and Emil." He turned back around and began to stand up. "I'm going to go say hello."

Francis stood as well. "I will, as well." He leaned down to peck Arthur's temple. "I'll be back." Alfred wanted to call them both back here, but they were already walking toward the family. Great, he was alone with Arthur.

"Family friends?" Arthur asked.

Alfred glanced at Arthur, wondering if he was just hearing things. Did Arthur actually want to have a conversation with him? "Oh, not really. Lukas goes to Matthew's college and they play hockey together. I think Matthew was telling me that Lukas's brother is going to be going to the same college starting this year." He tried to remember other stuff about that family. "Oh, their dad, that's the old dude over there, works with Francis. He's like second-in-command for Francis."

Arthur nodded along as he looked at the family, who seemed happy to see Matthew and Francis. "Ah." He ran a hand through his blonde hair, looking a little overwhelmed. "I-I would like to apologize if I've seemed rather rude tonight. This all feels dreadfully awkward."

A surge of relief ran through Alfred's body, for some odd reason. "Don't worry about it! I haven't been too nice either!"

The Brit took another sip of his wine, the same look of distaste on his features as he set it done. "How about we put that night behind us? It was just a one-nightstand and those are meant to be forgotten."

Even though Arthur was right, it made Alfred's heart clench. He shook off the odd feeling and smiled at Arthur. "What are you talking about? I don't remember any night!" He laughed quietly which was followed by a small chuckle from the smaller man. But it died down quickly, and they both found themselves looking around the restaurant. They were looking anywhere but each other.

"Um, so," Alfred started. "Did you and Francis just meet last night?"

'You know, Al. Has anyone ever told you that you are a complete and utter dork?' a voice in his head seemed to whisper. He was praying that Francis and Matthew didn't come back when Arthur began to answer the question.

"No." The Brit seemed unsure. He was probably wondering why he was answering such a ridiculous question. "Last month, I went to the Catholic church that's by Hunter College so I could talk to this woman who's a history major. Apparently, she and Francis are close friends. He was there and that's the first time I spoke to him."

Alfred wanted to gag from the way Arthur's eyes sparkled. "You two seem happy."

Though it was weird as hell to see them together. It was quiet after that, so Alfred turned his head to the side to look and see what was taking Matthew and Francis so long. Francis seemed to be having a conversation with Lukas and Emil's father while the two Scandinavian boys were listening to something Matthew was saying. No doubt it was about hockey. Alfred cursed mentally and turned his head back around. He wished he could act like himself around Arthur but it seemed rather difficult. The Brit had been so talkative at the bar two months ago! Unless that was all just an act…

"You're staring at me." His voice was cold, and there was a warning edge to it. It reminded Alfred of the way the other had acted this morning.

"Sorry. I was just thinking. Not about you!" He was really starting to feel like an awkward adolescent, not someone who was just a month away from being twenty! He didn't know who else to blame for this awkward situation so he blamed Francis for his taste in men and he blamed Arthur for be so deviously attractive and flirty all those weeks ago.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't even realize Arthur had said something to him. The darker haired blonde gave a small shake of his head. "Sorry, dude. Can you repeat that?"

Arthur sighed quietly just as the waiter came back to refill their wine glasses. As soon as he walked away, Arthur laced his hands together and set them on the table. "I asked if you were dating anyone at the moment."

Alfred was about to joke and ask why he wanted to know, but he had asked a rather personal question not even five minutes ago. It would only be fair if he replied to this one question. "Yeah, I am! I don't know if you remember my ex-boyfriend Ivan…" He trailed off with a small smirk when he saw Arthur roll his eyes. "Tell me you didn't get back together with him!"

"Guilty." Alfred shrugged with a look of feigned innocence.

Arthur sighed quietly and shook his head. "You never get back together with someone who has cheated on you."

Alfred laughed quietly and crossed his legs underneath the table, with one knee bouncing up and down. "He's sorry, really. I can-" Apparently, this table was a little too low for someone like Alfred to be bouncing their knee up and down because it slammed into the table. It knocked Arthur's wine glass over, and the two could only watch as the reddish-purplish liquid spilled onto Arthur's lap. "Bloody hell," Arthur growled as he squirmed.

"Shit, I'm really sorry!" Alfred stood up and grabbed the white cloth on the table by his silverware. He walked around to the other side of the table where Arthur was sitting and crouched down to clean the mess up. "When you have long legs, tables like these can definitely get on your nerves!"

Arthur inhaled sharply and his whole body seemed to go rigid. Alfred's dabbing motions got slower until he stopped completely. What the hell was he doing…? He looked up at Arthur, and green eyes met blue eyes for a moment. The American quickly stood up, but he kept the napkin in Arthur's lap. "I-I'm sorry! I was just trying to help."

"No, don't apologize." Arthur continued to wipe his pants with Alfred's napkin, his face flaming. "I shouldn't have had my drink so close to the edge."

Before Alfred could screw anything else up, Francis and Matthew walked back to the table. They were both curious about why Arthur had a wine soaked napkin in his lap, but Alfred didn't even listen to the answer. His mind was in someplace else.

The rest of the night went by pretty smoothly. The meal was delicious, if expensive, and everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Even Alfred! He had drank a little too much wine, but he was actually feeling pleasant! When he got home, he would call Ivan- the Russian didn't go to bed till around two in the morning anyway- and then he would go to bed. Tomorrow, he had to go in for work, but he didn't mind.

Francis stopped when they made it back to the apartment complex. He wrapped a hand around Arthur's waist and pulled him closer. "You two go on ahead. I would like to talk to Arthur about something."

Alfred and Matthew both nodded, and went into the complex. They were struck up a conversation about Matthew's best friend Lovino, who was a delinquent. Alfred laughed loudly as they stepped out of the elevator and onto their floor's hallway. "So that's how Lovino met Antonio? He was being chased by a cop so he jumped on the back of some poor Spanish guy's motorcycle and told him to drive?"

Matthew laughed softly and nodded. "Yep! That's exactly what happened."

Alfred laughed a bit harder but it died down when he saw someone standing beside their apartment door. He was wearing dark clothes, but even from here, the blonde could see the head of stark-white hair. He groaned quietly. What the hell was Gilbert doing here? When Alfred and Matthew approached their apartment, Gilbert smirked.

"You two look nice!"

"So do you," Matthew teased as he kissed his boyfriend's cheek. Alfred had no idea why Matthew associated himself with so many delinquents, but then again, Mattie wasn't as innocent as he seemed. "What are you doing here?"

Alfred tried to block them out as he dug his key out and opened the door. "I don't have to bartend today So I thought I could spend my free moments with you!" Gilbert exclaimed, taking Matthew's hand and leading him into the house. "Let's go in your room."

"You better not have sex!" Alfred called as they walked past him.

"Wasn't planning on it, Jones!" Gilbert called back. Soon, Alfred was alone in the doorway. That buzz that he had felt from the wine felt like it was slowly draining from his system. He suddenly didn't want to talk to Ivan anymore; he just wanted to go to bed. He sighed to himself as he made his way upstairs. He could hear Gilbert and Matthew talking. He walked a little closer to the closed door when he heard what sounded like his name.

"Alfred was acting really strange tonight," Matthew was saying, followed quickly by some shuffling. "For once, he seemed…awkward. That's the best way I can describe it."

The sound of someone jumping on the bed-presumably Gilbert- echoed through the bedroom. Alfred felt his heart speed up a little, and he wondered if Gilbert would tell Matthew the truth.

"Maybe the kid thinks Arthur is attractive." Alfred cringed. The urge to fling open the door and pummel the Prussian began to surface. "I'll admit, that man has some pretty wicked curves! B-but he's nothing compared to you, Birdie!"

Matthew must have thrown something at Gilbert because he made a noise of surprise. Laughter from both of the men filled the room. Alfred sighed inwardly, and headed toward his bedroom. It didn't seem like Gilbert would tell Matthew. He was a man to his word, if nothing else.

He closed his bedroom door when he walked in. Alfred took no time in changing out of his clothes and slipping into something much more comfortable. Tonight hadn't been a total disaster. Alfred and Arthur managed to talk to each other without it being too awkward, which was definitely a plus.

Alfred yawned loudly as he walked out of his room again to brush his teeth. He could still hear Gilbert and Matthew talking, but they were laughing some as well, so they couldn't be talking about Alfred and Arthur. Matthew would be freaking out if Gilbert told him. As he made his way toward the bathroom, he heard the front door open, which was followed by a lot of shuffling and heavy breathing. With a peaked interest, Alfred peered over the banister. In this apartment, when you were in the hallway on the small top floor, you could look over the railing and see the living room below you. The top floor was only about nine feet above the bottom floor. Nothing too high since it was still an apartment. This allowed Alfred to have a perfect view of Francis and Arthur, who had their arms wrapped around each other and were making out hotly.

Francis pushed Arthur up against the door and began to kiss and suck on the Brit's neck. Arthur tilted his head back and moaned quietly, his hands traveling to tug at the other's shoulder-length hair. He seemed to be in so much pleasure. His breathing was even labored! His green eyes opened and they fell right on Alfred. Alfred could not look away from the sight of Arthur looking like that. His mouth was open and there seemed to be a trail of saliva coming from the corner of his mouth. His pale face was flushed and his hair was messier than usual. But the sexiest thing about him had to be his eyes. They were dripping with lust and since he was staring at Alfred…it looked like he was lusting after Alfred.

Alfred tore his gaze away and walked into the bathroom. His head was spinning. Arthur had looked so…so delicious when he stared at Alfred like that, but that look hadn't been for the American. It was meant for Francis, Arthur's boyfriend.

Perhaps he could pretend…

He washed his face and brushed his teeth, all the while thinking of Arthur. This would be the last fucking time. He walked out of the bathroom and down the hall, where he could still hear Arthur moaning. He froze when he heard one line come from the Brit's hips.

"Come on, Francis. Hurry up and take me to your bedroom; I want your big cock inside of me already!"

Only when Alfred heard it, it was Francis's name that Arthur was moaning. It was his. He didn't wait to hear Francis's reply; he was already walking swiftly into his bedroom. When he made it there, he turned off the lights and slipped under the covers.

"Oh, Alfred!" Imaginary Arthur exclaimed in a surprised voice. "Let me help you with that…big problem."

It didn't take long, only about five minutes before Alfred was slipping on a new pair of pants. As he crawled back into bed, he vowed that that would be the last time he did something like that while thinking of Arthur. Not only was Arthur dating someone, but Alfred was dating Ivan.

Ivan, who was trying so hard to prove that he could be a worthy boyfriend. And what was Alfred doing? He was touching himself to thoughts of another man. Is that a form of cheating?

Alfred turned on his side and closed his eyes. It seemed to be quiet in the apartment now; Gilbert and Matthew probably fell asleep or were talking quietly while Francis and Arthur were most likely in Francis's bedroom.

He sighed quietly and felt himself slip into an uncomfortable sleep, filled with a luscious British accent and emerald green eyes.

To be continued...

A/N: I am so sorry about this extremely late update. I have no idea where the time went! I will try to upload before school starts next Tuesday, but I cannot promise anything. You should not have to wait that long for chapter three, however! Even better news; developing USUK will be in the next chapter!

The Scorpions- the band Gilbert was listening to- is an American rock band but they are originally from Germany. Their kind of music is something I feel like Gilbert (and Ludwig) would be into.

Daniel is an actual French restaurant in the Upper East Side. I did a little bit of research and yes, the most expensive thing on their menu costs two hundred-twenty dollars. You have to make reservations and there's a dress code! My mind was blown.

Lyublyu- love in Russian
Si vous plait- please in French
Incroyable et volupteux- amazing and sexy in French
Merci, ma cherie- thank you, my dear in French