Falling in Love in New York City







The city that never sleeps was called that way for a reason. Even as glistening rain drops, nearly indiscernible against the bright city lights, weren't enough to dampen the hustle and bustle of the people rushing back and forth like ants on candy. The incessant and blaring honking of horns as yellow taxis zoomed by, the blur of different styles and colours of clothing as people rushed across the crowded sidewalks, the daftly bright neon signs that were so particularly Time Square … it was all home. It was that iconic scenery that made New York City, New York City. Rowdy laughter rang out from all four corners of the busy avenue, as small clumps of friends chatted animatedly over random occurrences of their everyday life.

It was your typical American Saturday night. Living life as a night owl; the time where suits were traded in for trendy clothing of the latest and priciest styles. Designer trades; mini-dresses, sequin halters, high heels. Button-downs, snakeskin boots, bright colored hoodies, trendy sneakers. You name it, you'll find it. Cell phones sang as iPods blared just as loudly as the music that seeped through the nightclubs doors. Every single sound drowned out into one single song that was a blissful symphony to oh so many people. This was what he lived for. Freedom, life, happiness and a damn good time.

"… So I told her. Right in her face. No one and I mean no one, cramps my style." A voice rang above the rest, smooth and charming in a teenage sort of way. A head of blonde hair melted into the crowd easily as he walked down the avenue, gesturing his hands around rather wildly in order to prove a point to his friends. "I mean, chick was getting all up on my personal space, man!"

"Dude, isn't that what girlfriends are for? There's supposed to be stalking you until you snap. It's when they say that they want you to meet their parents that you better run." One of the older teens, the one with silver hair, popped a cigarette into his mouth and fetched for a lighter in his jean's pocket. "But whatever. If she's up for grabs, I'd totally tap that."

"You can have her, straight up."

"Al, she's your third girl this month. And it's only the twelfth. People gonna start talking, mein freund."

"Fuck them. They're not the ones dealing with a psychotic bitch. I mean, chick pulled a knife on me when I was talking on the phone with my grandma. Apparently she thought I was cheating on her."

"With an eighty-year-old lady. Point proven. I pity you, man."

"Gee, thanks for your help, Gilbert. If you ever find me castrated, you know what happened."

Two out of three in the group laughed at that, high-fiving just for the hell of it. The blonde, Alfred, turned his aqua eyes towards their more reserved companion for the evening and furrowed his eyebrows quizzically. "Why so quiet, Kiku? You're totally throwing the mood off there."

Dark pools looked up at the over-exuberant kid peering down at him, the city lights reflecting off his glasses, adding to his boyish charm. Kiku waved him off with an uncertain smile, hurrying his stride just a bit in order to keep up with the two taller males. "Ah, it's nothing, Alfred-san. It's just… it reminds me an awful lot of home." The small Asian teen then smiled a bit more honestly, shifting his head to gesture their current surroundings. Mood killer didn't even begin to describe.

"Huh, really? We should totally fly to Japan one of these days! Meet the parents! And check out that drink you guys love so much." Alfred beamed. Leave it up to him to take nostalgia and shift it into some sort of adventure.


"Yeah, the one made out of… rice? I think its rice."


"That! Bet it tastes awesome." The blonde shoved his hands in his jacket pocket, turning his head skyward, letting the light drizzle splatter against his wire-framed glasses. "Maybe pick up some of that high-tech stuff you guys have. What do ya' think, Gilbo?"

"You wanna sincerely know what I think? I think that you're being completely gay."

The rubber beneath Alfred's sneakers squeaked as he halted to a stop; several people bumping into him as the rush continued to zoom by him. He gawked at his friend, who in turn puffed out a large cloud of smoke accompanied by a laugh. "'The fuck's that supposed to mean?"

"Dude. Meet the parents? Kiku's? That sounded beyond wrong." Gilbert snickered at the dignified huff Alfred let out as he rushed past him, making sure he shoved his shoulder as he did. "Aww, struck a nerve? Would explain why the hell you keep dumping all those chicks."

"Will you cut it out, you dick? I was trying to be friendly!" The blonde eventually slowed down, pouting the rest of the way. "I don't question my sexuality."

"Never said you did."



"Eto…" Kiku interjected then, tapping both his friends' shoulders as the red on his face turned a few shades darker. "Could you please… cut down on the insults? There are an awful lot of people here…"

"Who the hell cares?"

"Come on, man. He's Japanese. You know how they all worry about looking good and polite in front of other people; for business and stuff."

Stereotypical comment was stereotypical. The brunette couldn't help but roll his eyes at that. The night was young, but he was sure it was going to be a long one. A very, very long one.

The next few moments were spent with friendly banters and Gilbert incessantly questioning Alfred's orientation. It was times like these that Alfred asked himself just how the hell he gets stuck with such jerks. Or jerk, better said. Kiku was just too quiet and too much of a pushover; so he didn't really consider him a jerk. Except for whenever he showed off during math. Now Gilbert, he had enough spunk for the both of them and that tended to get annoying ninety percent of the time.

All in all, they were an odd group to come by. An American model-in-the-making, a German musician-to-be and a Japanese computer-graphics-student. The only thing they had in common was the fact that they were all students at some pricey art academy in upstate New York. Other than that, they were complete opposites in every sense of the word.

Alfred F. Jones, hero-wannabe and NYC's Golden-Boy. Between his shock of golden hair and the smoothness of his sky blue eyes, it was hard to say what enraptured strangers first. His charisma was enough to win any heart he wanted with the batting of his exaggeratedly long lashes only. With a flash of pearly whites, he was the incarnation of the All American Dream. And in all honesty, that was one of the main reasons why Gilbert had decided to hang out with him when he had first transferred. If it weren't for Alfred constantly blabbering about how hot that random chick is, he would have jumped him long ago. But then again, who didn't Gilbert want to jump?

The German exchange student was nothing but trouble. Hence the instant attraction from Alfred. Besides the point that the blonde continuously pointed out how much model material he was. One thing was for sure, he stuck out like a sore thumb. It wasn't everyday you would see some punk in torn jeans sporting unruly silver hair and nearly crimson eyes. Attention whores the lot of them, for the exception of the third and last member of the trio.

Kiku Honda was quiet, reserved, intelligent and normal. Jones and Beilschmidt had practically dragged him out of his apartment while half way through a project due that coming Monday. He wasn't too ecstatic about the whole idea, but he had barely gone out since his arrival from his homeland, so he decided to humor them for the night. So far, it was chaos. The two of them were nothing but a bunch of brainless loudmouths obsessed about their looks and hell-bent on getting wasted. But they were perhaps his only friends on that unknown American soil. Instead, Kiku would only smile and indulge them in their mad missions. What doesn't kill him makes him stronger. And he was really praying he would survive the night.

"Am I the only one that's starving here?"

"I'm sure you are. Then again, when aren't you?"

"You're really in one of your moods, aren't you?"

"Nah, I just like fucking with you." The German continued talking when the blonde opened his mouth in order to bite back. "Let's just grab something to eat at the club."

Kiku nodded at them. "True. It's fairly late already; if we waste anymore time we won't be able to get in."

"Whoa. Thought you didn't want to go."

"If I've gotten dragged so far, then I might as well resign myself. Let's just get this over and done with, hai?"

"Alright! Now that's the spirit, man!" Alfred held his hand up for a high-five; Kiku only looked at it. "Um, right. We should totally hurry up and stuff."


"Asshole. Stop blowing smoke in my face! You're killing me here."

"Sissy." Gilbert muttered, putting out the cigarette and glaring at the blonde walking beside him. "Just a few more blocks till' we get there."

"Sweet! Think there'll be any cute foreign girls there?"

"It's America. You get foreigners in your oatmeal." Crimson eyes shifted in annoyance. Alfred really was your typical blonde; clueless and stupid. All looks and no brains.

"That's true, actually. Cause we're awesome that way! Kind of makes you feel patriotic, and stuff, right?"


"We're not even American…"

"Ah! We're here!"

"Thank goodness." The brunette said with a sigh as he gazed onto the apparently exclusive nightclub. The music that boomed out whenever the tough-looking bouncer opened the door to let someone in gave him a headache just thinking about it. How people enjoyed such rowdy atmospheres was amazing. Westerners sure were strange.

"Alfred… what time is it?"

"One in the fucking morning."

"Why the fuck are we still out here?"

"Will you two please stop dropping that word around to carelessly? Thank you."

Alfred paced back and forth as they continued to wait on the line that was apparently not moving at all. Three hours had ticked by, and if they had taken two steps forward was an overstatement. The rest of the crowd around them was perhaps just as moody as them, waiting out in a cold October night. He knew the club was pathetically exclusive, but he didn't expect it to be to this extent. His toes had already gone numb.

"I'm starting to think we should bail, Al. We're never gonna get in before the sun rises." Fetching another cigarette, Gilbo popped it between his lips.

"No way! I've been out here, in the cold, for hours! I better get in that club or someone is going to end up hearing my mouth."

"You mean, more than usual?"

"Fuck you."

"Look, the one across the street doesn't look that full. Plus, the line's actually moving. We might be able to catch some tunes before getting our asses kicked out." He tried to reason with the blonde, but his stubbornness was beginning to shine through.

"If I wanted to go to that club, I'd be on that line."

"Dude! It's all the same shit! Get a few swigs, bump and grind with some random stranger, get her laid and that's that." His patience was being tried. And an angry German wasn't a pleasant sight to behold after a long night. Alfred considered it though, casting side glances at the joint across the crowded street. Maybe it was all the same crap.

"Hm. I dunno…"

"Can we please, Alfred-san? My feet are rather tired." Kiku complained nearly inaudibly as he toyed around with his phone.

"Maybe. Maybe… no. No. I'm staying here! Case closed. If you two wanna go, then go ahead. I'm getting into this one even if I lose my toes in the process!" Gilbert groaned as he smacked his head against the brick wall he was leaning against.

"Fine! Make me waste my awesome time!"

It would be another two hours before they finally set foot inside the raging place. And when they did, Kiku instantly swore to himself that before the night ended, he'd suffer from a large scale of seizures.

The music screamed in their ears, the heavy bass and intense trance making them sway along to the rhythm subconsciously. So many bright lights swirled and flickered with the same intensity as the Time Square signs; nearly maddening in their array of colors as they swiveled across the walls, floor and the mass of people all moving along to the beat at the center of the dance floor. The smell of sweat, alcohol and perfume was heavy on the senses, but not very unpleasant. It was actually fitting, in an overwhelming sort of way.

Kiku glanced to his side and felt panic starting to settle in. Both of his friends had vanished from sight.

"… Kuso."

The intensity of the music was like a drug, clouding his mind and beckoning him to sway along in the most intoxicated of fashions. The perspiration that ran down the back of his neck went unnoticed as he jumped along with the rest of the crowd like a pulse, all in unison, in one single beat, in one single high. He threw his hands above his head, riding out the sudden new wave of more upbeat music; shutting his eyes and losing himself after a long week of studying and fretting over tests. It was a getaway that he strived for, and now he had it.

Alfred was brought back to reality, however, when someone nudged his side. Some Asian girl winked at him, and an automatic grin spread across his charming features. Bingo. He turned to face her fully, and in just a matter of moments, they were moving together, not too close, but invading each others' personal space. She eyed him through the rest of the dance, but his interest was quickly fading. It was almost too easy. For the following three songs, a few more dancers approached him, and he only smiled and graced them with a dance but none of them significantly caught his eye.

As he moved across the floor, he searched for both Gilbert and Kiku, but had no success. The crowd was too thick to really distinguish anyone. Perhaps he should have listened to his German friend and gone to that other club across the street. The music and atmosphere were good, but the people were just downright boring. The girls were being too easy, and the guys were just… guys. Alfred wasn't interested at all. But when he reached a certain corner of the floor, his eyes caught sight of something that made him change his mind.

A blonde man danced flawlessly between another guy and a girl in a way that resembled some kind of low budget, clothed porn movie. He looked frankly older than the rest of the kids in the club, but the way he moved made up for that little fault. He could put any professional dancer to shame with the way he didn't even miss the slightest beat. A knee slid between the girl's thighs as she pressed closer to him, the man behind him moved in as well, chaffing their lower regions together in a way so explicit it was vulgar. The sultry rhythm of the current song wasn't really helping the situation either.

Alfred's dancing had slowed to the point where he was just swaying casually to the music; he was too busy staring at the tantalizing blonde. But he was shaken back to reality when the man turned his sights to him, revealing eyes too dark to discern their color due to the lighting, but the gaze pinned him down nonetheless. The mysterious man threw his head back with a drowned laugh and Alfred was about ready to approach him when a large group of people suddenly passed between them, all laughing and clumping together as they danced on by. He cursed aloud but he was sure no one could hear him, and once the group had dissipated, only two of the initial three were left dancing together. The man was gone like he had been some kind of mirage.

"Shit." Blue eyes scanned the surrounding area, and there he caught him again. The retreating form was making its way to the bar, and conveniently enough, Alfred was reminded of his hunger a little earlier. Time for a break. Rushing through the crowd, the young America reached the bar and plopped himself down a few stools away from the stranger. He ordered a drink, and by the time Alfred was done, the blonde dancer had downed six shots and a dry martini. Talk about a heavy drinker.

"This one's from the young man five stools down." The bartender informed with amusement as he set another shot glass in front of the older blonde who only looked up at him quizzically. With a shrug, the man swallowed his drink in one shot, and didn't even bother looking in the direction where the supposed the 'young man' was sitting at. He wasn't interested.

He had come to drown away his issues; forget about love, lust and everything else tangled with those terms. Along with work. He wasn't in the mood to put up with some random arsehole who found him good looking enough for a quick shag. Drink, dance and forget. That was why he was there in the first place. To silence those annoying demons that whispered into his ears words of solitude and loneliness. The song that boomed in the background wasn't improving his sudden moodiness, the reason why he retired from the dance floor for the time being. The last thing he needed was some guy singing about standing alone tonight. Alone tonight just like the western star I'm sinking… the angels curse me by with straight and crooked thinking…

He really wished the song would finish already.

"Hey there!" The blonde twitched in his reverie, glaring at the glass in his hand when some random voice interrupted him. "What's up?" He still refused to answer, much less deign the man worthy of a glance. After a few awkward seconds, the man, or kid, better said, spoke up again. "You look like you need some company."

The older blonde snorted at that and asked for another drink. "This isn't a gay bar."

"Don't get me wrong man! Just meant it as a drinking buddy. Mind if I sit here?" No answer; he sat down anyway. Alfred asked for another drink himself and slowly drank it down while admiring the vast amount of shot glasses in front of the man beside him. Guy must have been hell-bent on getting wasted; but unlike Gilbert and him, the man looked tired in more ways than one. "Rough day?"

"Mm-hm." Still, not even a glance. It shouldn't have had bothered Alfred that much, he was used to being ignored by the snobbier more sophisticated types. But at the moment, he really, really wanted to catch a glimpse of his face up close. If only just for a second.

"Got dumped?"


"Ah. Well, if it helps, I broke up with my girl too, this morning and stuff. Kind of sucks, you know?"


"Anyways! The names Jones! Alfred Jones."


"What's yours, stranger?"


Alfred frowned then. Asshole wasn't even listening to him. "Mind if I get in your pants tonight?"

"Mm-h—" The blonde choked on his drink and turned vicious… green eyes towards the smirking American. The glared faltered a bit when he finally got a glimpse at his sudden stalker and hummed in appreciation. Surprise, surprise. Boy wasn't half that bad looking. Half his age, yes, but easy on the eyes.

Alfred too was momentarily stunned. The guy was absolutely gorgeous. Well, for the exception of those fuzzy eyebrows, but heck, even after a few minutes of gawking, even those started to look good. The awkward silence continued until the song finally changed to a livelier one, and the green eyed beauty finally took his cue.

Spinning on his stool, he slapped a healthy amount of bills onto the counter for his drinks and took off into the dance floor again, disappearing into the jumping mass of sweaty and heated bodies. Alfred was about to do the same when a hand grabbed a tight hold of his wrist. The bartender raised an eyebrow. "Ah, right, sorry about that." The American fished for his wallet and spilled two twenties, but after the guy behind the counter refused to let him go, he leaned in.

"Aim for another one, kid. This guy's broken more hearts than you've broken pencils in elementary school. Warning you."

Alfred flashed him an award winning smile and shrugged. "Not interested in that kind of way. But thanks for the heads up, man. Keep the change." And with the same enthusiasm he did everything with, the American ran headfirst into the crowd without thinking.

The bartender rolled his eyes. Kid had balls, that much was true if he was gonna jump in and aim for the prize, even if he claimed he wasn't interested. But if there was one thing the so called 'gentleman' at his bar was known for, was for the astonishing ability of turning even the straightest of guys gay.

The American tried to boogie his way across the floor, blue eyes scanning the area for the fuzzy-browed blonde. He hadn't acted that repulsed back at the bar, so, maybe he wouldn't turn him down for a dance. Though he was rather shocked himself at the fact that he wanted to dance with another guy. Then again, he had come for some excitement, for a challenge. And damn it all, he had found it. Over head, Alfred heard the DJ say something about the current song being the last one of the night, or morning, so they had better make it unforgettable.

That was exactly what he planned to do.

When he finally caught a glimpse of the stranger, he was dancing with some girl, his back towards the American. And by God, the back view was just as nice as the front one. The way he swayed his hips back and forth with a slight twirl made every girl in the room shy away in shame. It was then that Alfred felt the need to pull him close.

Green eyes turned to him when he spun around in place and stopped, staring at the young man who looked utterly smitten. This guy wasn't giving up was he? What an annoying, yet flattering, git. The stranger walked towards him, taking each step to the rhythm, a smug smirk pulling away at his lips. Alfred's breath hitched as the smaller male pressed flush against him, leaning up to whisper into his ear. "What are you waiting for? Aren't you going to ask me to dance with you? Or are you afraid you won't be able to handle me?"

Something had to be wrong with him. There was no way any straight man could get turned on by those words… but maybe it was the way the stranger began to chafe against his hips that made fire race right beneath his waistline. Again, this was nothing for a straight man to fuss about. He should have felt repulsed, disgusted and annoyed… but instead he began to sway his hips along with Mr. Fuzzy-brows.

Insanity couldn't begin to describe.

The older male, though shorter, fit perfectly against Alfred's taller and better built frame; making every little juncture and crevice fall into place as they rocked their bodies back and forth like one single being. A knee slid between the stranger's legs, pressing up unintentionally. He tried his best to pass his groan as a laugh, but it didn't matter anyway, the music was too loud for it to have been heard. Alfred bent his knees a bit in order to grind a little better against his dance partner, the older blonde answered by pressing himself closer still. Their chests rubbed against each others', rustling their shirts in the process and ridding up a bit in order to expose a tad bit of milky and slick flesh which Alfred itched to touch, but decided against it.

It was a bit unexpected when the stranger threaded their fingers together, raised their hands above their heads and took advantage of the momentum, pulling away for a moment in order to twist in his partner's grasp and press himself back again, back to chest. The way he moved was unbelievable; slow, sensual and proud. Like some kind of well-dressed exotic dancer, Alfred thought. Maybe he was one, for all he knew, but damn, the way his rear grinded against his crotch was driving him mad with… with… he didn't even know what. But he refused to stop. Refused to let go of those shocks of electricity that coursed through him whenever the man before him jerked his hips back and up in constant fluid motions.

The older blonde tilted his head back, resting it just below Alfred's shoulders and flashed the full force of his entrancing eyes, heavily lidded with something the American couldn't quite read. Or he could, but he was still in denial. In denial that he was getting off on rubbing against someone of the same sex. Gilbert would never live it down if he found out.

As for the man doing most of the dancing, he grinned, happy of the fact that even at his age, he'd be able to stir up a young and handsome bloke like the one poking at his arse with an obvious arousal. While they danced together, he assessed him. Smartly dressed in what youth considered style nowadays, his lack of proper English use stamped American all over his face, the way he so boldly approached him assured him that he was a hit with whomever he wished to pick up… A jock, maybe. Or some spoiled rich kid out on daddy's car to have a good time. He was mostly leaning towards the latter. But hell, he didn't care. It had been a while since he'd been hit on by such a nice face. The kid exuded inexperience; a virgin most likely.

He had gestured the young lad to move with him as he dipped down low, dragging him along for the crude move before dragging him up again with his rump, bumping into him in one smooth movement. It was downright sexy and Alfred was sure that if any more of that blissful torture continued, he was gonna end up humping the smaller body. But before the American could do as much as pull him closer, the song came to an unfortunate end.

The roar of cheers and applauses startled the heated couple and they immediately broke away when the lights suddenly came on. 4 a.m. Before Alfred could even catch his breath to muster a word, the man slipped a card into his hand and made quickly towards the exit, instantly disappearing into the wasted crowd. "Wha- Hey!" He hadn't even gotten his name… but that didn't stop him from grinning like a moron. That was perhaps the hottest dance he had ever had with anyone. Twisting the card between his fingers his mind finally caught up with him. "Oh!"

If possible, his grin widened tenfold. Alfred F. Jones was left standing with a hard-on and the business card of one 'Arthur Kirkland'. With a chuckle, he pocketed the card which conveniently had his office number printed on it.

Besides that, Alfred repeated the lyrics of that last song incessantly within his head. He absolutely had to download it as soon as possible; because the words 'sexy bitch' were a complete and utter understatement.





To be Continued.



A/N: And there goes my first multi/chaptered fic of the fandom. Finally posted it after much debating and I honestly hope it doesn't disappoint.

Reviews are always appreciated!