Disclaimer: Nope

A/N: hi i relocated the actual pr0nz in this fic to my tumblr, URL of which is meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeg(dot)tumblr, can be found under my "megan's stuff" tag


Arthur hated cigarettes at the best of times. They made the whole room smell like a furnace, and they dropped ash all over the place, and were not only bad for you but also all the poor bitches around you.

Kieran smoked. A lot. Like, to the point that Arthur would stink of them even after taking those ridiculously long bubble baths he fancied, complete with girly scented bubble formula and salts. Honestly, rose? What self-respecting man could bathe with rose scented soap? Kieran probably thought he was doing the Briton a favor, making it seem like even though Arthur took ridiculously long, rose-scented bubble baths, he smoked while doing it. Not that Arthur did actually smoke; once upon a time, he could have burned through fifteen packs a day, but now he avoids the things.

"Beggars can't be choosers," Kieran had cackled, dialect mangling his words to the point that Arthur had to squint and lean forward to try and understand him. "And it's better to reek like a chain-smoker than the pansy you are."

That was how Kieran answered everything - in an accent too thick to decipher, which usually just led to Arthur agreeing out of sheer irritation.

But even though his house, his bed, and soon his bubble bath - oh, lord forbid the bubble bath smell like anything other than flowers! - would be stinking of cigarette smoke and no doubt giving various diseases to all who came within three meters of the stuff (like radioactivity, really, except that smoking around a cockroach wouldn't mutate it) Arthur didn't really have any reason to draw the line on his brother and kinda-sorta boyfriend of more years than he'd like to admit living through.

Well, till now, anyway.

"What," hissed the Briton, "the fuck are you doing?"

Kieran responded by blowing smoke against the blonde's lower back.

"Smoking. As for you, I'm pretty sure you were about to give me the blow of my life."

Arthur squawked indignantly from where he was, sprawled in only a v-neck shirt over his fully-clothed brother (his pants hung off one leg) with both slim hands on Kieran's belt buckle. He had indeed been about to yank it down when he'd heard the insufferable and telltale clicking of Kieran's favorite lighter.

"Precisely. Why?" fumed Arthur, twisting around to sneer at his boyfriend. "Do you or do you not want me to suck you off?"

Kieran waved him off. "Of course I do. Why would you ask such a stupid question?" He gestured to his lap, though Arthur looked furious. "Would you kindly get back to work?"