Master Plan (UsUk)

Chapter 2

"You got to fucking kidding me?" Alfred asked, not expecting to hear what came out of the captain's mouth. "Me, representative captain?"

"Unfortunately," Arthur rubbed his temples, darting his gaze anywhere but at the American. "I didn't decide this so don't think that. These are my bosses' orders and orders are orders."

"No," Alfred's expression changed from utter shock to excitement. "This is great! I can finally afford the PS Vita. You know I take my criminal stuff seriously and that means spending a lot of money." Arthur wanted to literally slap him. He wanted to lecture him that being a criminal was not worth all that money. But he kept his mouth shut, mostly because he was afraid of him.

"I am glad that you're happy about this new job," Arthur hissed, his sarcasm flowing. "But I need you to suit up. You cannot go in such utter rubbish. Tomorrow first thing then."

"What I wear is not 'utter rubbish' Mister Uptight," Alfred smirked at how flushed the Brit's face has become of. He could have quite some fun with him. "But alright then. If it looks that crappy. Let's go after lunch. Your treat."

"Huh," Arthur simply decided to go along with the American, in hopes to avoid any more arguing. "Alright. Where?"

Next day...

"Why did I let you convince me to go to McDonalds?"

"C'mon Artie," Alfred gazed hungrily at the fast food place and back at Arthur. "This place has five-star quality food."

"You do not believe that, do you?" nonetheless, the two walked inside and Arthur found himself learning more about the all mighty "criminal mastermind." He did not expect him to order ten big macs for himself and be able to gobble each and every one. And still complain that he wasn't full. Compared to him, he looked like a bird with his (awfully greasy and fattening) salad and fork picking at the tiny additions to what could have been a healthy meal.

"So I was talking to this guy online," he learned another thing was that he would speak with his mouth full. "He really likes Final Fantasy and we're planning to meet sometimes soon since he lives in London. I think this is fate or something. Interesting, right?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full." Arthur simply stated pointing the fork toward Alfred's face and looked down at his salad again. "You know what, take this. I can't even look at it." he pushed it toward the American who simply grinned and begin to devour it.

"I'm sorry," Alfred pouted at him, his blue eyes adorably staring at him. Wait, adorably? Shit, he was saying weird things. "Please forgive me. Why don't you teach me manners then?"

"Well first of all, stop eating with your mouth full." Arthur postured himself on his seat. "Second of all, sit up straight and when you're talking to people, look at them straight in the eyes to prove that you're listening."

"Okay then." he regretted what he just said when he found himself being stared at with the same adorable blue eyes. He coughed slightly in his handkerchief (true gentlemen should keep one on them), hoping the American did not see that he was blushing. Luckily, he was too fixated on his meal now and found himself letting out a sigh.

"We should be heading out." Alfred threw his coat over his shoulders and lend out his hand to the British captain. "Take my hand."

"Why should I?" Arthur protested, crossing his arms, not willing to succumb to the American's wish. "Can we just take our departure?"

"I'm just being a proper gentleman." Alfred bowed, a small smirk laid upon his lips.

"Fine then." Arthur gave up and entwined his fingers, their warmth stronger than the harsh winds that greeted them when they walked out from the restaurant. He rather liked it but he didn't dare to admit it, even to himself. Finally, they arrived at their destination, Moss, a popular clothing store for men.