As it turned out, nothing uncomfortable happened until later, thanks to a certain niece. It had been one canceled flight and two surprisingly enjoyable days at the Jones' residence before Alison called.

Arthur sat at the round kitchen table that looked out on the snowy outdoors; reading Mrs. Jones' faded 'Shakespeare Collections'. Mrs. Jones was in the process of making coffee, and Alfred was just generally getting in her way. He almost dropped his plate of bacon when Arthur's phone began vibrate violently on the table.

Arthur marked his place and hesitantly flipped his cell over. Alison was calling.

"ARTHUR!"

"Alison?"

"IS THAT YOU ON THE COVER OF GIGI MAGAZINE WITH ALFRED JONES?"

"What? Cover on Gigi… what?"

"ARTHUR I THINK YOU'RE THE GUY WITH HIM"

"Alison? I'm not—"

"I NEED TO TALK TO ALFRED RIGHT. NOW."

The man in question was now lounging at the kitchen table with a large glass of orange juice to keep his copious amounts of bacon company. He quirked an eyebrow as Arthur closed his eyes and handed him his phone.

"It's Alison."

Alfred grinned, taking the cell.

"Hi Alison! Can I call ya Ali? Sweet. What's up?"

There was a short pause before the girl began, which Arthur assumed was for his niece to collect herself before speaking to her idol.

Arthur leaned in to listen but heard only snippets of Alfred's side of the conversation.

"Gigi Magazine… no, I don't….The cover?! What—how?!"

Alfred sunk into a business mode, face hardening with concentration.

"Is it sensitive material?...that's okay then."

"Yeah, no I'll explain, but on a scale of one to ten, how upset will he be? …..Here's hoping. Thank—."

Suddenly Alfred's face went a deep red and he stuttered several unintelligible syllables into the phone.

Then, coughing with what seemed a mixture of laughter and pain, he bid her goodbye and hung up.

"What's going on?"

Alfred bit his lip. "Promise not to hate me?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "What is it."

Alfred shifted, fidgeting with the strings on his sweatshirt. "Okay, so um sometimes the paparazzi follow me and I don't realize? Because I'm stupid and I have to pay attention more and they might have taken a picture of us like hugging or something?"

"Did she say it was in Gigi?"

Alfred cringed and nodded.

Arthur put his head in his hands. He knew exactly how famous Gigi was.

HommesGigi was the magazine that had helped him to a good wardrobe. Though he would never admit it, he adored the fashion section of the French Magazine. Without it, he wouldn't have been able to dress himself for job interviews or regular life.

HommesGigi along with Gigi, the feminine counterpart of Hommes, had recently been on an Alfred Jones binge. The more they could get from the star, the better. Now it seemed they'd gotten to Arthur.

Arthur pulled out his phone and opened his HommesGigi app… it gave him special promotions sometimes… and it wasn't as if he was addicted to it or something equally implausible. He just liked coupons.

Sure enough, the main article was focused on Alfred and who this apparent man in Alfred's life could be. Arthur scanned down the page, eyes catching on the paragraph describing his figure as "A slim build, obviously male…attractive from the back…possible love interest for our singer?" He shook his head, Alfred may have been incredibly handsome, but he was sure as hell not interested in Arthur, nor would he ever be. After all he was younger and richer. He could do much better.

With that thought Arthur suddenly had the desire to quit the app at once.

Arthur emerged from his digital rapture to notice Alfred was talking on his cell. His low muttering was huskier than expected and Arthur found himself becoming more interested in his tone rather than his—

Arthur re-focused and mentally chided himself. Alison was rubbing off on him.

Alfred, as it turned out, was briefing his manager/brother Matthew on the press release. Or perhaps it was the other way around. Matthew was much more informed than Alfred it seemed, and had already deflected interview requests from a multitude of large media corporations.

Alfred finished his conversation and hung up, grinning.

"Hey Mom? Guess who just got even more famous?"

Later, as evening approached and Alfred chuckled about the trending tag on twitter #mysteryman, mostly involving people debating his undisclosed sexuality, Arthur made himself a hot cup of tea in attempt to defrost his fingers. Mrs. Jones had already gone to bed, having spent the day cooking for possible holiday visitors.

All day Alfred had been putting up Christmas lights for his mother, and all day Arthur had tried to be helpful. Mostly 'helping' involved the occasional playful snowball whizzing toward him and he attempted to untangle tendrils of fairy lights.

Naturally, Alfred has pissed himself when Arthur called the lights by their correct name, mistakenly saying they were actually called "Christmas lights". Arthur tried to explain they were not just for one specific holiday, but Alfred had obviously stopped paying attention when snow dislodged from a branch and plopped onto his hat. Alfred had laughed and started vigorously shaking his head to remove the power.

Arthur sighed.

It was like trying to converse with an overexcited Labrador.

At this point, Arthur realized if he ripped off a branch from one of the numerous trees and threw it, Alfred would probably fetch.

Before going inside, Alfred had brushed his fingers along Arthur's back to get his attention. Much to his chagrin, Arthur had yelped. He didn't know why and he didn't want to think about it, so naturally it consumed his thoughts while he stared into his mug.

Alfred barged into the kitchen with a grin. "Thanks for the help out there Arthur. In all that snow, I'm not sure weather I could have done it without you."

Arthur groaned at the obvious and terrible pun. Rolling his eyes, he responded, "Why are you famous with humor like that?"

No response. Arthur actually felt a flicker of worry before his saw Jones' face.

His lips had curved into a sultry grin, one eyebrow lifted suggestively.

"Wanna know why?"

Alfred reached down and in one fluid motion pulled off all upper garments. Arthur found himself looking at the legendary abdominal muscles of Alfred Jones, complimented with a tiny trail of hair bisecting the perfect beginnings of the muscular v shape angled toward—

Arthur forced his eyes on Alfred's face and, despite the faint pink in his cheeks, managed to say smoothly, "I've seen better."

Alfred seemed undeterred. Confidence rising due to Arthur's lingering gaze that he hadn't failed to notice, a wonderful idea occurred to him.

"Arthur."

Arthur who was fixedly staring outside at the snow reluctantly turned his head back, now focusing on a cabinet just above Alfred's head.

"Yes?"

"Ever been in a hot tub while it snows?"

Arthur didn't know how the featherbrained Jones had coerced him into the ultimate test of strength.

Shirtlessness.

To his credit, Arthur had been forced to deliberate very quickly.

There they were, tub jets going, stars above them, and snowflakes swirling around their head. And it was awkward.

The small talk was certainly unique. What else could one really expect though? Talking to a world famous superstar wasn't exactly the average walk through the park. It made Arthur wonder about the rest of Alfred's life.

What does he miss about being normal?

"-and then he was like, 'if you come back here again I will throw you out the damn window' but we had already gotten on the Harley right? So—". Alfred narrowed his eyes a bit.

Does he miss it?

"And then we cannibalized their corpses."

Arthur jumped, startled out of his thoughts.

Alfred made a sort of loud hyena-like laugh and Arthur started laughing too. He liked Alfred and how boisterous he was, even with the vaguely uncomfortable silences between them.

They leaned closer, Alfred tilting his head slightly. They made eye contact, and simultaneously jolted back as if electrocuted.

"Haha, sorry. Bad joke."

Silence. The sort of strained silence where everything is so obvious but the words and actions are too terrifying to find, let alone carry out.

After maybe fifteen seconds (a very long period in awkward silence time) Alfred cleared his throat. "Soo... How 'bout them mets?"

Arther snorted, failing to suppress a smile. "What?"

Alfred blushed a bit and looked down.

"Haha just something I say when a conversation isn't happening. Breaks the silence ya know?"

Arthur chuckled. "You are so strange."

"Yup. And also famous."

"And also famous."

Silence descended once more. Their arms were now touching, having gradually moved closer toward the other.

Arthur looked at the water bubbling around him, willing some miracle to stop the weirdly intense atmosphere they both pretended didn't exist. And suddenly he felt a hand on his cheek, it turned his head toward Alfred, and Arthur leaned in, and their lips touched. The kiss was gentle, a question, and as they drew back from one another and Arthur looked at the beautiful blue eyes level with his, he knew the answer. And then he was wrapping his arms around Alfred's neck and they were really kissing, finally acknowledging what they both had ignored. After a few wonderful moments, Arthur felt Alfred smile.

"What?"

He didn't like how breathy his voice sounded but he elected to ignore it.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted to do that."

A/N:

Sup nerds. I'm back.

Two years later.

Oops.

Not oops though I guess, because life has been one heck of a ride. Points if you can guess which expressions have been taken from my all-American boyfriend and re-used here.

I know this chapter doesn't make up for the ridiculous amount of time I was way too busy to post, but I hope it's still likeable.

Good luck in 2017 my darlings, and good luck to me posting the rest of this thing. I have a lovely friend who is going to motivate me, so thank her for that.

I wish you all happiness, love, and joy in the New Year. All my best~