"Excuse me?!" Alfred shot back, his eyes wide in shock at the Frenchman standing a few feet in front of him.

"Strip" Francis repeated, his face deathly serious as the American squirmed in his doorway.

"What the heck?! Why?!" Alfred questioned, his face a deep shade of red at the suggestion. He had never had anyone speak to him so bluntly.

"Calm down, I'm not asking you for your credit card number! I don't have any pajamas that'll fit you. You're too muscular. Just keep your boxers on you prude." Francis responded, rolling his eyes at the uncomfortable American. Francis couldn't believe the cultural difference between him and the squirming boy. In France, nakedness wasn't a huge deal. Americans are just prude. Alfred mentally slapped himself in the face for being such an awkward human.

Still blushing like a madman, Alfred lifted his shirt over his head and undid the button of his khakis, slipping them off to reveal his embarrassing pancake-printed boxers. His brother had bought them for him as a going away present and the American wore them on his first day in Paris for good luck. So far, they hadn't been very good luck.

"That's better" Francis said with a smirk, looking down at the American's underwear. Alfred's heart pounded and his hands immediately shot to his crotch as he grew uncomfortable at the Frenchman's gaze. Francis rolled his eyes at the younger man and shut his closet door before heading towards his door to leave. Alfred noticed Francis walking towards him and flinched out of nervousness, eliciting a chuckle from the amused Frenchman.

"I'm not going to attack you. I just want to leave my bedroom. I use the door to do so. Let me demonstrate" Francis teased as he purposefully sauntered closer, getting uncomfortably close to Alfred's half-naked body before slipping past him and walking out into the hallway. Alfred's already-red face somehow darkened and he reminded himself to keep breathing as he turned around to follow Francis out of the room. As they continued through the nicely decorated hallway, Alfred's stomach rumbled and he quickly punched himself in an attempt to make it stop. Francis simply chuckled at the sound from ahead and turned left into a pink and white kitchen. 

"Hungry?" Francis asked, turning around to face the American as he gracefully hopped up onto his counter and took a seat. Alfred opened his mouth to answer but his stomach did first, letting out a loud rumble as Alfred awkwardly stood in the middle of the rosy kitchen. Francis chuckled and Alfred wrapped an arm around his torso to stop his stomach from rumbling as the Frenchman hopped back off the counter and opened the fridge, which Alfred was surprised to see wasn't filled with pink food.

"What kind of food do you like?" Francis asked, not even looking at Alfred as he rummaged through his fridge thinking of what he could possibly make. After a few seconds of no response, Francis turned back around and Alfred shrugged, feeling too awkward to reply as the stranger's gaze lingered for far longer than expected.

"I haven't heard your voice in ten minutes. You know you're allowed to speak, right?" Francis teased playfully, letting out another chuckle as he returned to his quest to find food for his silent guest.

"I-I don't- you don't need to make food. I can wait until morning" Alfred stammered before his stomach let out another loud rumble. Alfred punched himself again. Francis continued rummaging through the fridge.

"Your stomach says otherwise. Now, since you don't feel like answering me, I'll just give you some leftover brioche and raspberry jam" Francis said, sighing as he grabbed a jar of jam from the fridge and set it on the countertop in front of Alfred.

"That sounds really nice actually" Alfred responded, eliciting a smile from the Frenchman. As Alfred stood waiting for directions on what to do next, Francis glided across the kitchen and pulled out two brioche buns and a knife before putting them on a tray with the jam and guiding Alfred towards the living room they had walked through earlier.

"I usually don't let people eat on my couch, but my dining room is a mess, so this'll do" Francis spoke, gesturing for Alfred to sit on the light pink couch as he tried not to cringe in disgust. Francis was a stickler for eating food where it was meant to be eaten, so letting Alfred eat on the couch was a pretty big deal for him.

"Thank you" Alfred responded, forcing himself to awkwardly stare into Francis' intimidating violet eyes before looking down and spreading some jam on one of the brioche buns.

"De rien" Francis sighed, placing a hand on Alfred's thigh as the American took a bite of the pastry. Alfred choked a bit on his food at the Frenchman's touch but calmed himself down just enough to get it down. Francis once again laughed at his timidness and took his hand away. He couldn't help but mess with the boy. He had never seen someone so unaccustomed to physical contact and he found it strange yet oddly adorable. Every time Francis so much as breathed in the American's direction he turned pink, which is what Francis found so delightfully endearing.

Francis watched on in curiousity as Alfred scarfed down the two buns in a span of only a few minutes. The man looked as though he hadn't had food in years. Deciding to tease the American a bit more, Francis moved closer to him on the couch and positioned his face only a few inches away from Alfred's.

"You've got a little something on your face" Francis uttered, smirking as he locked eyes with the American. Alfred, his mouth filled with brioche, didn't even have time to respond before Francis reached his thumb up and swiped some jam off the American's bottom lip before licking it off, all whilst making prolonged eye contact. Alfred's soul nearly escaped his body as he skittishly scooted away from the Frenchman and flushed a deep shade of scarlet. Francis dissolved into laughter at the reaction and moved back over to his side of the couch. Alfred glared at him as he grew even more embarrassed at his own jittery reaction. Usually he wasn't so awkward, but something about Francis was really intimidating. The fact that he knew how to mess with him was not helping.

"So, my new American friend, men or women?" Francis asked, deciding to change the topic as he grew tired of his own teasing.

"Huh?" Alfred responded, tilting his head in confusion from across the couch.

"Are you straight or?"

"Oh-uh- I- well, I don't really label myself. My philosophy is that if I see someone I find attractive, regardless of gender or lack thereof, I will make an effort to go and talk to them" Alfred stammered, slightly uncomfortable that the man was asking him such a personal question.

"Is that why you approached me?" Francis asked sarcastically.

"You approached me!" Alfred cried defensively, sending Francis into another fit of laughter as the American's face grew red, yet again. Alfred cursed his blood vessels for being so good at their job. Francis wiped a tear from his eye. In an attempt to feel less awkward, Alfred looked at the expensive-looking rose gold grandfather clock and checked the time. It was nearly two o'clock in the morning.

"Sexuality aside, I think it's time for me to go to bed. You can either sleep on this couch or with me but that might be a bit too much for you to handle so I'm going to assume you're sleeping here" Francis joked, taking the tray from Alfred's hands as he stood up from the couch. Alfred weighed his options. He could either sleep in a king-sized bed with a sexy French man who showed obvious delight in making him feel uncomfortable, or he could sleep on a pink couch that was a whole foot shorter than he was and curl up in a ball in an attempt to go to sleep. Surprising himself and betraying his inner libidinous feelings, Alfred chose the second option.

"Thank you for uh- housing me" Alfred spoke, gazing over at the Frenchman with an appreciative smile before breaking eye contact and staring down at the pretty fabric of the couch.

"Bonne nuit, Alfred" Francis responded, giving one last wink and a wave to the zoned-out American before heading off into the hallway with empty tray. When he was finally gone, Alfred let out a sigh and looked into the glass of the coffee table in front of him. His reflection showed a scared, yet slightly aroused version of himself with messy blond hair from laying in the grass too long and crumbs of brioche littering the corners of his mouth. Alfred groaned at the sight of himself. No wonder why Francis loved teasing him so much. He looked like an idiot.

After staring at his reflection for far too long and wondering whether or not he could still join Francis in that extremely comfortable-looking bed, the clock rang, signalling that it was finally two. At the deep sound of the clock's strike, Alfred decided it was time for him to sleep. Although he was still on American time, he was exhausted. It had been the longest day of his entire life. Before laying down on the couch, Alfred grabbed a blanket from the loveseat beside the couch and took off his glasses. After making himself comfortable, Alfred curled up into a ball, wrapped the blanket around himself, and shut his eyes to the sound of the ticking pink clock from across the room. As he drifted towards sleep, Alfred pondered how he got himself into this situation in the first place, and why, for some reason, he was kind of glad that he did.

-

Whoah guys... I updated this story. Surprise? Surprise. Now that I've finished MBBF I'm going to have a lot more time to update stories so this one will be updated more often. I think this is one of my favorite stories so I'm kind of excited to be able to update again. Anyway, thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed :)