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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Jul 6, 2011 18:02:54 GMT -5
Of course Alfred was excited to see the art at the Global Art of Peace exibit. He'd flown all the way back across the country to see it. He'd endured the awkward family reunion when he stopped by in Virginia on his way up to New York and he'd spent his entire paycheck on the hotel alone. This certainly wasn't a cheap adventure for him. However, he hoped it would all be worth it. Sure, the paintings were great. The scuptures too. But the film, that was what he really wanted to see. He'd heard that there were three rooms filled with artisitc films on peace, and a seperate museum would be showing the documentaries as an addition to the exibit. He'd busted his ass to earn enough to come out here, though his boss had already given him tickets for the museum and opening party.
Now at the Metropolitan Museum of Art on opening night, Alfred realized that this was perhaps not the ideal time to get the most out of the museum, but instead to network. Everyone around him looked so important--and he was damn sure he saw more than a few celebrities around the bar. In an attempt to get closer to who he assumed was George Clooney, Alfred found himself lost in the chaos of the bar. Left and right politicians and celebrities were buying up thousand dollar wines and million dollar bottles of Whiskey. He drooled a bit when he realized that a single bottle would be more than enough to sustain himself for a month.
"Man...." He grumbled and looked around. "I feel like such a bum." Alfred scoped the crowd by the bar until he spotted another man, not much different in age or attire (they were both clearly not the richest of the rich and were perhaps the two most grateful people at the entire party). "Hey, you look interesting!" He smacked the man on the back as he plopped down in a empty seat beside him.
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Post by arthurkirkland on Jul 8, 2011 12:06:12 GMT -5
Arthur walked around the museum, looking at the pieces of art with little interest. It was not like he came here to look at those anyway, what he was really here for are the celebrities. And this, this Global Art of Peace exhibit event was a golden opportunity. Without sparing much thought, Arthur had requested from his parents a sum of money so he could afford the flight here and the tickets to the event. His parents gave him the requested sum without any question, of course. It had always been this way. The two really thought that by just giving Arthur what he asked for, it would make him happy.
The pair of fools…
He quickly shook the unpleasant feeling off, not wanting that little thing to get him down. He surveyed the area around him for a bit, noticing that he is, as compared to the others, underdressed.
Perfect.
It was exactly what Arthur had planned for in the first place. One could only stand out more by being different, right? And besides, he looked down at this clothing now which consisted of his button-down shirt with a hoodie and a pair of dress pants, he was sure he could get the ladies with what he assumed he was exuding; the boyish charm. With a smirk, he made his way towards the bar. He was sure he could win one of the female celebrities over with his charm (he had been doing these kind of things ever since he started celebrity journalism) and perhaps, buy the lady a drink or two. He had, on him, quite a hefty sum of cash, in the form of credit card, of course. It was his own money as well, so there probably would not be any issues from his parents (although he was sure that they would not mind even if he did use their money anyway).
He made his way through the crowd, recognising almost all of the more notable people. He had even worked with a few of them before for interviews, but as expected, they did not remember him.
Not that he cared or anything. It was understandable.
He sighed inwardly and eventually reached the bar and got himself a seat.
Any moment now, a lady would come up to him. Five… Four… Three… Two… One…
Bingo.
“Hey, you look interesting!” A voice called out behind him along with a rather painful smack across his back. On one hand, he was feeling quite smug that someone approached him, on the other… He had not been expecting a male.
Whoever that was had decided to sit beside him. Arthur just stared at the other person. Well, this bloke is certainly no celebrity. He continued to lock his eyes on the other for God knows how long before he finally got himself to react.
“Hello, good Sir.” He greeted, forcing out a good-natured laugh. He was not exactly pleased with him for smacking his back, but he was not about to cause a scene, determined to keep his gentleman front especially in a place like this. “You most certainly have a unique eye for things. But I do believe that I am the least interesting out of—” He gestured towards the crowd of celebrities in the bar with a turn of his head. “—everyone else that is present here.”
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Jul 8, 2011 15:42:05 GMT -5
Alfred beamed, proud of his latest catch. He was already impressed at the man's accent and speaking mannerism. Now to find out if this man was anything more than a nice voice and fuzzy brows. "'Course you're interesting! You have caterpillars on your face! That's gotta mean something." With that, he promptly poked Arthur in his bushy brows and laughed. He was genuinely surprised to find that they were in fact real eyebrows and not oversized fakes. "Uh....They're kinda big for caterpillars though, huh. Oops."
Alfred awkwardly shifted on his seat and smoothed the other man's brows back into place. "Did you know that you have huge eyebrows? Like...massive. Uh...not that they're not cool and stuff! Just huge. Like Godzilla. I met this Japanese guy once and he said that in Japan they call it 'Gojirra'. Ain't that weird? Here in America, we say it pretty cool, but I guess the Japanese get dibs, huh. Can I call your eyebrows Godzilla and Mothra?"
Now confident in his ability to save this conversation, Alfred continued on, " I'm Alfred. Alfred Jones. I'm kinda lost in all this hubub." He laughed, his charming, yet exceedingly loud, voice boomed through the bar area and turned heads. "I'm here for all the film stuff. I heard they're gonna do some special showing thing tonight, and that the guy who directs Wilfred is here somewhere!" He bumped the other man with his shoulder. "What about you? You're not really dressed for this kinda thing. Are you some rich person's kid or somethin'?"
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Post by arthurkirkland on Jul 13, 2011 5:53:26 GMT -5
The moment the other bloke had decided to make a nice mention about his eyebrows, he had already sent his own name right straight into Arthur’s blacklist. He did not just stop there at the caterpillar remark, of course not. He just had to go on about describing it and detailing it in such a manner that could only mean he is looking for a fist in his face. But Arthur is a matured gentleman. He was not going to let the other have his satisfaction, oh no. Instead, he just opted to listen to the other with an absolute zero degrees Celsius smile that he hoped the idiot is not too oblivious to catch.
He flushed slightly however when the other man decided to touch his eyebrows in such an inappropriate manner, he forgot about his manners there for a moment and scowled but quickly resumed his persona as soon as the other continued to ramble on about his eyebrows again. Never in his life had he felt such an urge to drag someone to the back alley and beat the living shit out of him, but he managed to get his emotions in check.
“No,” He stated out flatly, and as coldly as he could. “You may not give any names to my eyebrows. I have, in fact, already given them names.” He explained, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Arthur, by this point, has pretty much lost all interest in this jerk. He nodded a little in acknowledgement when the other decided to introduce himself, not wanting to be rude.
“Mister Jones, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” No, not really. But well. “I would be Arthur, Arthur Kirkland.”
He cringed a little when the other laughed in an obnoxious loud voice and flushed again in embarrassment when the people around turned to look at the both of them. This was not the kind of attention he was hoping for. He needed to get away from this twat, and fast.
“Ah, is that so? That does sound interesting.” He had never really shown an interest in film though… Except maybe for the actors and directors in it. He shifted away and brushed off his shoulder when the other bumped him. He never really appreciates any form of physical contact, unless of course, if it was from a lady. He flinched a little at the mention of ‘some rich person’s kid’.
“I don’t really find the need for me to dress up so extravagantly for this. After all, it is better to stand out than to be part of the mainstream, is it not?” He shot a good-natured wink to the other. “And well, my family is only average. I just came here in hopes of picking up a lady or two, if you know what I mean.” It was a half-lie, of course. But then again, why is there a need to be completely honest with a stranger?
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Jul 16, 2011 14:23:26 GMT -5
"You named your eyebrows?" Cute accent and a sense of humor, Alfred really knew how to pick them. The sarcasm, of course, was completely lost on his blissful exuberance. "What do you call them?" His eyes were wide with wonder as he stared directly at the giant hairy masses on Arthur's forehead. His fingers itched to touch them again.
"Arthur? Like...King Arthur? That's really British. You're British, right? You have that cool thing going on where you're all like 'Tut tut cheereo, lad!' and it's really cool, dude!" A smile stretched across his face as he spoke, his eyes practically sparkled with interest. "Do you drink tea all the time? Are you still mad at America for dumping all that tea in the harbor? Do you hang out in castles all the time?" He rambled on and on with his American stereotypes, positive that they were in fact true. He'd never been to England, nor encountered an Brit. Sure, his college had a ton and a half Japanese exchange students, but he'd never met a single exchange student from England. He was certain to milk this encounter for all it was worth.
And then it came crashing down on Alfred that Arthur was straight. It wasn't as though he'd really expected much else. He wasn't even sure if there were gay people in England. It wasn't as though he'd intended to talk to Arthur in order to get into his pants, but the accent really was a turn on. "Oooh, so you're here to pick up chicks? Good luck with that one man, American girls like dudes like 'the Situation'. Though, you have an advantage, because Americans love British accents." He grinned, his perfectly straight and white teeth flashing. Sure, his charming smile probably wasn't enough to turn the man gay, but it was worth a shot, wasn't it?
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Post by arthurkirkland on Jul 17, 2011 12:13:12 GMT -5
Arthur did not know whether he should be amused or feel very sorry for the American when the other completely missed the sarcasm in his remark. But for now, he would just have to settle for being amused and try to keep the smirk off his face as he thought of a witty reply.
He pointed to his left eyebrow. “This one is named Sod,” He then shifted his finger to the one on the right. “And this is named Off."
Now, in his twenty-eight years of life, he had almost always been given looks because of his eyebrows and he had been relatively used to it. But the intent gaze that Alfred is giving now is making him more than a little uneasy. It almost looked like he was ready to tackle his eyebrows or something... Subconsciously, he shifted further away from the other. Who knows what Alfred might actually end up doing?
“Yes, like King Arthur.” He confirmed Alfred, albeit a little reluctantly. He would rather be asked if he was named after Sir Arthur Ignatius Conan Doyle, the author of the Sherlock Holmes series rather than King Arthur Pendragon. He held a great respect for that author and quite enjoyed his writings. Although, it would be irrelevant for him to randomly point this out to the taller since well, they were all Arthurs.
"And yes, yes. I am British. English to be exact." Arthur had inwardly groaned the moment the word 'British' made its way into the conversation. He nodded, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as Alfred rambled on with his stereotyping.
To be perfectly honest, he could not help but feel a little humoured by how fascinated this bloke is being about him being a British. And the fact that he was making his enthusiasm look so obvious was... Quite endearing to the Englishman. The way his lips were stretched upwards as he talked, and how those cerulean blue eyes just seem to twinkle. And oh Lord, those eyes...
Wait just a bloody minute.
What was he thinking?
Arthur quickly snapped out of it and continued listening as the other bombarded him with questions, giving answers where needed to show that he is paying attention.
“Yes, I do drink tea. But not all the time. And no, I am not mad at the Americans for dumping the tea in Boston…” He answered that with an eyebrow raised. Why would he even be angry for something that had happened so long ago anyway? And it was not like they took his tea.
“What? No! I do not live in a castle!” He secretly wondered where Alfred have gotten all this ridiculous ideas from. He had initially wanted to be sarcastic again and told him he actually lived in Hogwarts but then remembered that this bloke was too much of an idiot and would probably ask him to direct him to Platform 9 3/4 or something.
Arthur is, of course, blissfully unaware of Alfred’s thoughts or his sexual orientation. That being said, he could not help but be a little flustered when the American smiled at him like that. It was not often that anyone actually smiled at him, much less in that kind of manner.
“Y-Yes… Thank you. I will take note of it.” He muttered and quickly looked away, suddenly feeling very self-conscious and is unable to form a better response.
Whatever stupid thoughts he is having now, such as how charming that smile is, he would blame it on alcohol later.
Hang on.
He hadn't even begun drinking yet.
Shit shit shit shit shit.
Arthur now scanned through the selection of alcohol served in the house tonight. It came as a no surprise when he saw wines like Dom. Romane Conti 1997, Petrus Pomerol 1998 and Chteau Valandraud Saint-Emilion 1995 on the shelves. Those bottles easily cost over five hundred, a thousand even but he was not in the mood for wine tonight... Or any other night for that matter. He had always preferred beer.
His eyes then landed on the section containing the beers. He looked at Alfred for a brief moment and giving him, what he had hoped was, an equally charming smile. Sweet, sweet revenge. "I hope you are prepared to drink tonight?"
He called for the bartender. "I would like two bottles of your Samuel Adams Utopias please." It was priced at USD$100 per bottle, which was far less than he had been expecting to spend. He was a little disappointed though as he had been hoping to find Antarctic Nail Ale but he supposes the one he is getting would still be worth it. It was rumoured to be quite strong with a sweet flavour that is richly highlighted with hints of vanilla, oak and caramel.
He sighed inwardly as the bartender got to his orders.
Buying drinks for another male? This night isn't going as planned.
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Jul 20, 2011 0:47:17 GMT -5
This man, this Arthur Kirkland, was a funny man. Sure, he had some blaringly obvious rough edges. His attitude toward anything was less than desirable. He was grumpy and the slightest bit creepy. Alfred wasn't really sure what he intended to do with celebrity women, but he was sure it had something to do with blackmail or something. Sure, he'd be rude thus far, going so far as to (in American terms) tell him to fuck himself, but he still seemed playful, and Alfred was never one to back away from a game. If anything, the Brit's brutal playful attitute was making the man even more appealing. Best of all, he was British. BRITISH. He was foreign, he had the accent, we probably only ever ate fish and chips, and that was a major turn on. Too bad the guy was straight, but Alfred was always open to new friendships.
"Hell yea I'm ready to drink. Isn't that what tonight's all about?" Arthur was quickly proving himself to be generous as well, as the man ordered them some crazy expensive drinks from the bar. Alfred would have been happy to sneak in some PBR, but drinking these expensive drinks with a Brit was far better. He doubted he wuold have even met the man if it weren't for booze. Like hell he was going to turn down this chance.
When the drinks slid down the smooth bar to rest in front of them, Alfred quickly snatched his up as though he knew exactly what it was. He could almost pretend to be suave. Or so he thought until he choked on the surprisingly sweet taste of his drink. His first thought was that Arthur was gay as hell. No self respecting straight man would drink something like this (yes, Alfred believed in stereotypes and relied on them to tell him much about other people, generally with less than fantastic results). However, Alfred was now fairly certain that he at least had a chance with this guy. He scooted his seat closer to Arthur's so that their knees touched and took another sip of his drink. "You've got interesting taste, Artie. You drink stuff like this often?" He made sure to wink with that.
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Post by arthurkirkland on Jul 20, 2011 12:42:29 GMT -5
“I am glad to hear that then.” Arthur said in response, liking Alfred’s spirit. He supposes the American would make a good drinking mate so perhaps this might not be so bad after all. His eyes followed the two bottles of drinks as it slipped across the counter, waiting for the perfect opportunity to pick one up. As if on cue, his hand calmly (and almost instinctively) reached out to make a grab for the remaining of the two bottles.
Noticing the other’s hasty behaviour and perhaps strange antics, Arthur raised an eyebrow. It almost seemed like as if the other bloke was trying to impress him. But of course, the Englishman knew it was not the case. Alfred, based on appearance, comes off to Arthur as… A complete and absolute show-off. And besides, why would he even want to impress him? He chuckled inwardly at the odd thoughts and assumptions that were now running through his head. It looks like he would need to finish his bottle of beer to drown out all of it. Fast.
Despite being extremely polite, Arthur could not help but laugh a little when the taller choked on his drink. Such a boy.
Arthur got even more self-conscious when Alfred decided to shift his seat uncomfortably close to his. In fact, they were now so close that their knees were touching. This kind of behaviour in public was, to the Englishman, absolutely inappropriate. And to top it all off? They were both men! Had Alfred lost his mind?! Or maybe he thought he was a girl? But he was sure that Alfred is not that much of an idiot to not be able to classify ‘Arthur’ as a masculine name. A faint blush dusted his cheeks when he felt eyes on the both of them. He wanted to move away but he quite enjoyed the warmth that Alfred emits and as such, shifted away only by a little, enough to not be touching but could still feel the heat that is coming off from the other.
"Arthur." He corrected the American, cringing at the horrendous nickname. “And yes, I do indeed.” He replied, thinking that Alfred is asking whether he drinks beer often and is completely oblivious to the conclusions the other had made regarding his preferences. He second-guessed himself however, when Alfred winked at him. Winked. At. Him. He frowned slightly. Had he missed out on something? Or maybe they were playing a game that Arthur was not aware of? Or perhaps Alfred is taking his revenge since well, Arthur did gave him a brief wink earlier on. He did not dwell on the matter for too long however and instead, chose to down the bottle of beer in one breath. When he was done, he took out a handkerchief and wiped at the corner of his mouth before throwing a smug grin into Alfred’s direction, remembering that the lad had actually choked on the beer a mere minute ago. “And it would seem to me that,” He raised his now empty bottle. “You don’t drink this often?”
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Jul 26, 2011 17:38:43 GMT -5
Alfred sputtered and coughed, though he did his best to hide it behind a laugh. The drink was just as sweet coming out of his nose as it was going down his throat. However, coming out of his nose, the experience was distinctly less pleasant. His eyes watered and he'd officially lost a man card from the whole ordeal. After a few moments of trying to get the remaining booze out of his nose, he finally managed to speak. "Shit's gay. You sure you're not here to pick up dudes? This is the gayest beer ever." He giggled at his own little joke and wiped his nose.
Once he was certain the beer from his nose was gone, Alfred peeked over at Arthur's bottle. Arthur's bottle was empty. This was a challenge for Alfred. Of course Alfred did what every self respecting American man would do, and asked for two cokes with rum from the passing bartender and prepared for his rematch. His knee rocked against Arthur's as he impatiently waited for their drinks to arrive. His cheeks burned when he noticed that Arthur had felt his attention and he promptly became hyper aware of his his knee rubbed against Arthur's. He hoped the motion was comforting and would perhaps improve their conversation. If all went well, Alfred would come back to his hotel with a new number in his phone and a new friend on Facebook.
"Hey, I totally drink the real stuff all the time!" If PBR counted as real stuff, which he kind of doubted. This beer was far heavier, far stronger, far sweeter... And hmmm Arthur's eyebrows were becoming very endearing.
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Post by arthurkirkland on Jul 27, 2011 14:48:27 GMT -5
Arthur just shook his head. He could tell that the laughter coming from the American was just an attempt to cover up his choking. A pathetic attempt, mind if he add. He cringed in disgust when he noticed the short trail of liquid coming down from Alfred’s nose.
The next sentence caught him completely off-guarded and he froze. Pick up men? It was, of course, an absolute insult to him. He was, in no way, a homosexual. O-Or was he? By golly, what is he thinking?!
Just blame it on the alcohol.
… And besides, Alfred must be kidding, right? Right.
“If it is, as what you have said, the ‘gayest beer ever’, why then, pray tell, do you seem to have difficulties drinking it?”
He quirked an eyebrow when the other blonde looked into his bottle. His eyebrow raised even more when Alfred called for two cokes with rum (or as he would have preferred to call it, Cuba Libre) from the bartender.
… Is he issuing a challenge? Seems like it. He smirked. He was starting to like this lad quite a bit.
A-As a drinking partner, of course!
It was then he felt it, the sensation of Alfred’s knee rubbing up against his. He wasn’t sure if he liked it, but one thing for certain though, is that his cheeks were getting warmer… The room too.
M-Must the alcohol!
Arthur is completely avoiding eye contact now (and as such, missed the similar flush on the other’s cheeks) and buried the side of his cheek that is facing Alfred in an effort to hide the redness, hoping the other would not notice.
“Really? Doesn’t seem like it to me.” He replied, incredulity in his voice. The bartender returned soon after with Alfred’s orders, two Cuba Libre served in highball glasses with a lime wedge in each as garnish. Perfect. He took one and turned to the American, trying to look as suave as he possibly could.
“Thank you for the drink. Cheers?”
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Jul 31, 2011 22:54:26 GMT -5
Aside from the whole beer coming out of his nose thing, Alfred was feeling pretty good about his whole encounter. Granted the sudden rush of heavy beer through his system might have influenced his opinion more than he'd wanted, but with his cheeks burning, he carried on. With a new drink on its way, he grinned at Arthur. "This shit is what it's really about. I have this at parties like...all the time. It tastes like Coke, but then it gets you drunk! What could be better?"
And damn that gay beer ruining the mood. "C'mon man, that stuff was like pixie dust in a bottle I choked on a fairy or something." Alfred sulked a bit and looked to his drink. "There aren't any fairies in this stuff." He leaned in closer to the drink menu, just to make certain. "No, definitely no fairies in this."
Okay, so maybe Alfred had lied a bit. He didn't usually have high quality beer, unless he was out drinking with his coworkers, which only happened every few months when they completed a project. His fridge was stuffed to the brim with cheap, light beers (and McDonalds burgers), and they were a part of his nightly ritual. Beer strong enough to curl his eyelashes...He couldn't really say that he was accustomed to it.
Finally, Alfred had his drink. "Cheers, man!" He smacked his glass into Arthur's with a laugh and slurped down his beverages through the tiny mixing straw.
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Post by arthurkirkland on Aug 17, 2011 20:54:41 GMT -5
((I am going to squeeze all of Arthur’s replies to when they are drinking, if that is fine with you xD And I do apolise for the short post.))
Arthur gave a polite chuckle in response to Alfred’s laughter. He neglected the mixing straw and settled for downing the beverage straight from the glass instead. Within seconds, it was gone.
The Englishman snorted, “If this is what you have in parties all the time, I am just going to assume you are a lightweight. As compared to the ‘pixie dust in a bottle’ we had earlier on,” He held up his empty glass. “This is nothing.” A pause. “Speaking of which, do you believe in the existence of them? Fairies and pixies, I mean.”
Arthur is a rather heavy drinker but since he had been too hasty about finishing the beverages off, the alcohol is starting to get into his system. And by that, it means that his sense of judgement is taking a nosedive.
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Aug 19, 2011 22:16:39 GMT -5
"Did you just do a Coke and rum shot?" Alfred giggled. "Just throwing 'em back, huh? You bored here? Is that why you're doin' that?" He laughed and smacked Arthur's knee. "You're a weird dude, y'know? Pretty cool, but weird as hell." He then turned back to the bar and drummed his fingers on the wood. He was feeling a bit buzzed now, and he wondered how his fast drinking friend wasn't feeling it too. Whatever. Anything he did from this point on, he could blame on the a-a-a-a-alcohol.
"Fairies and pixies? Well...." Alfred thought. Then laughed. "Fairies definitely exist. Have you ever watched Project Runway? There are fairies everywhere!" He laughed loudly and spun around on his barstool, feeling rather proud of himself. "And pixies....Is that why they make pixiesticks? Are those supposta be for gay people? I always thought they were like crack for kids. I used to make lines with them and try to snort 'em. Didn't work though. I think all the kids had to try it once before they figured it was a bad idea--and hey, you're getting kinda pink. You embarassed by my stories or just tipsy?" Alfred leaned in close and bumpbed his forehead against Arthur's. "You got nice eyes, man. Real nice eyes."
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Post by arthurkirkland on Aug 23, 2011 10:31:52 GMT -5
Arthur, admittedly, is having a hard time listening to every word that the American had said. He nodded at random intervals to show that he was listening when… He really wasn’t. He did managed to catch a few words though and gave appropriate responses.
“Yes. I am quite bored.” He slurred. It was only half-truth. He had yet to get anything worthy he could write about for his next article although on the other hand, Alfred had been a pleasant company… Or that might actually be his drunken mind speaking.
“I am not weird.” He had wanted to smack the other for that comment but ended up slapping the air instead, stumbling a little.
He snorted as the other rambled on about his thoughts on the fairy folk. “Don’t be daft, boy. I am talking about the real deal.” He used his thumb and index to gauge their approximate size. “And they are this tinnnnnyyyyyyy~~~”
Whatever pink on his face as mentioned by Alfred turned a deep red as the other leant in closer and closer, until their foreheads touched. “I-I am not tipsy…” He argued weakly.
At the next words, something in Arthur snapped. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, exactly. All he does know that it had caused him to lean in even closer so their noses were now touching. “Says who, you are the one with nice eyes…” He said, in all honesty. He was, after all, a lot more truthful when drunk.
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Sept 3, 2011 4:00:58 GMT -5
"Woah dude. Woah." Alfred leaned over to check his new friend's face. "You are like super drunk." He giggled. It wasn't as though Alfred was exactly sober. During their conversation, more and more drinks appeared in front of him and magically disappeared down his thirsty throat.
But Arthur. Arthur was very obviously smashed off his ass. He was a lot friendlier this way, Alfred noticed, but he also seemed....angrier. Was it possible for the Brit to get angrier drunk than he was sober? Alfred thought drunk people were supposed to be happy. Alfred was happy. He was chewing on a maraschino cherry stem and listening to Arthur's drunken babble. Alfred was grinning like an idiot. So yes, Alfred was a happy drunk. Alfred was a generally happy person period.
As Arthur slurred away and banged on the table, Alfred tied his cherry stem in a knot with his tongue and presented it to his new friend. Hell, while he was at it, why not give Arthur another gift? And that he did.
Alfred ducked in close to Arthur's face and caught his lips with his own. His lips moved sensually against the other man's in a brief, bit enjoyable kiss. Arthur was hopefully drunk enough to maybe border on gay. Maybe Alfred had the tiniest bit of attraction to the other man. A one night stand couldn't hurt anyway.
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