USUK ONESHOTS!

Through The Back Room

Arthur knew he shouldn't be oogling the singer, but that boy... Stunning was the best word to describe him at this moment.

Smooth jazz drifted through the air, but didn't completely drown out the whispering of rumors. Arthur leaned back in his chair, swirling a spoon in his tea.

Intense, sky blue eyes met his own, emerald eyes. Arthur shuddered and gulped, his heart leaping in his chest. His stomach did all sorts of flips and leaps as the man on stage smirked and lidded his eyes.

Arthur's breath hitched and his tried to avert his gaze.

The man's soothing voice drew him right back in.

~

Arthur smoothed his waist coat as he made his way out of the crowd. He separated himself from the giggling women and their chuckling men, and made his way down the street.

"You just couldn't keep your eyes off me."

Arthur gasped and jolted. He whipped around with wide eyes to face the singer. "W-well..." Arthur cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. "I rather appreciate a man who can sing so nicely."

The young man chuckled and shrugged, leaning against a building. "That's not quite the message I was getting, doll."

The Brit jolted, then narrowed his eyes. "Excuse you. I am no lady, sir."

"Would you rather dingus?"

"I am no dingus!"

"Then doll it is." He pushed himself off the building and advantaged towards Arthur. "My title's Alfred Jones. Yours?"

"Arthur... Kirkland." Arthur murmured.

Alfred smirked. "You're 'part of that group that's come in from o'er the sea, huh? Well, cat. I shoulda guessed from that pretty accent."

Arthur glowered up at him. "Pardon me, sir, I do believe someone is calling your name. I will leave you to your business."

The American laughed and looped his arm around Arthur's slim waist. Arthur gasped, eyes wide as he was drawn close. "Oh, come on, baby!" Arthur face flared. "Come meet my bo! He ain't no bruno. Gilbert!"

The man that had called for the singer jogged over, a egotistic grin on his pale features. Arthur had never seen a man quite like him. Silver, messy hair. Dark, red eyes. Thick arms. Arthur was pretty sure this man was a bruno.

"Alfred! Who's this?"

Alfred snickered, squeezing Arthur's waist. "Just some high-hat Brit that was eyeballin' me while I sang."

"Excuse me! I was not doing any such thing!" Arthur snapped and shoved Alfred away. The young man only laughed.

Gilbert huffed in a short laugh. "You're right, Al. He is a high-hat Brit. Anyway, Birdie is lookin' for ya back at the joint."

Alfred sighed and carded his fingers through his slicked back hair. "I just we better go, then. Matt lookin' for me ain't a good sign. Come on, doll."

Arthur planted his feet in place. "Excuse you? Don't think I will just follow you so easily to where ever it is your joint is."

The American cocked a grin in his direction. "I should rephrase that. Come with us, or you'll have a heater pointed straight between your peepers." Arthur gulped, then followed Alfred and Gilbert.

~

Arthur felt so small in this large group of boisterous, lively people. Mostly men.

The women he could find were either sweet children or angry beasts attacking men.