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Arthur didn't know just how much he was attracted to men until he saw the handsome blond American across the dance floor. It was only his second visit to this particular speakeasy, but if the pretty-looking stranger was going to be there then he would have to look into investing more of his time there. And there were no downsides, really. Good bootleg, pretty people, and now this catch.
And what a catch he was. Sky blue eyes sparkled behind thin lenses, blond hair looking as soft as silk bounced around as the man talked, and the undone top button of his shirt revealed a hint of a toned chest. Arthur ran his eyes up and down his figure a couple of times, nodding appreciatively as he took a sip of his scotch. He was almost jealous of the flapper he was talking to, but the short skirt and low front didn't seem to be enticing him too much.
The stranger looked downright bored, actually, looking around and only occasionally nodding along with the woman's words. Then, his eyes flicked over and met Arthur's and the Brit's breath temporarily stopped. Plump lips quirked up into a coy, inviting smile, and it was then that Arthur made his decision.
He knocked back the rest of his drink and set the glass down, then made his way closer along the outer edge of the dance floor. The handsome stranger noticed for he raised an eyebrow, murmured something to his companion, and split from her. He moved to the wall near a corner and leaned against it, and Arthur's mouth dried.
"Hey there, stranger." The blue eyes glinted merrily as the man spoke. "Haven't seen you around here before."
Ah, so he was a frequenter of this bar. "It's my second time," Arthur replied, casually leaning next to him.
"Fair enough." A quick smile revealed a glint of white teeth. What a pretty smile it was. "That's a nice get-up you've got there."
Arthur looked down at his suit for a moment. It wasn't too fancy, but he supposed for Americans it would be a bit different. "Thank you. You're looking quite sharp yourself."
"Aww, thanks. I don't usually get so dolled up, but I had a feeling it was gonna be a special night," he said with a wink. "The name's Alfred. Alfred F. Jones."
"Arthur Kirkland," Arthur replied. He was blushing faintly- was Alfred really flirting with him?- but he was glad to have a name to go with the face. "Pleasure to meet you."
"British, ooh." Alfred's smile stretched wider. "Did ya come here long ago?"
"A couple of months. And I'll only be staying here another six." Arthur decided to try flirting back. "...I suppose it depends on my company how those six months go."
Cocking an eyebrow, Alfred laughed. "Yeah, I guess it does, huh? You got a sheba back home? Or sheik?"
It took Arthur a moment to decipher the slang, but when he did he shook his head. "No, there's no one waiting for me." He tilted his head to the side, and it was his turn to give a small, coy smile. "Why?"
"Just wondering." Alfred gave a casual shrug, trying not to appear too interested.
"I see..." Arthur's smile remained, and he moved ever so closer to Alfred. Everyone around them was too busy to notice.
Arthur, however, took notice of the time when the music shifted from jazz to the newer and rougher style of swing. He also noticed Alfred's hips starting to move ever so gently, and his eyes flicking to the dance floor every so often. The Brit had only heard this music occasionally, but he found he quite liked it. And it seemed Alfred was interested as well.
"It's a pity you're only staying six more months," Alfred suddenly said, gaze resting on Arthur's features once more. "Would have been nice to see your pretty face around here."
Arthur let out a low chuckle. "Well, I could say the same for you. You're starting to make me regret my decision to leave, and I'm not on the boat yet for a few months."
"Aww shucks." Alfred blushed handsomely, though there was still that flirty look in his eyes. "You sure know how to lay on the applesauce, don't ya?"
"How can I not, when there's so much to compliment?" Arthur asked, moving ever closer to him and then walking past him, bumping his hip against Alfred's as he passed. "Would you like to get a drink?"
"Sure would." Alfred grinned more and brushed back up against him as he guided him to the bar. "You payin'?"
"I did ask, didn't I? So my treat."
A few minutes later, they were back in their corner with the drinks. Alfred was looking at the alcohol like it was something sacred, which Arthur found odd since he was pretty sure the American had been drinking beer earlier. More people had flooded out onto the dance floor and Arthur could see Alfred was itching to get out there. Arthur would join him, he just needed more alcohol in his body to loosen up. Luckily though, Alfred was apparently itching to stay by Arthur's side more, instead of abandoning him to find a more eager dance partner. The Brit found that touching.
"Do you know how to dance to this?" Arthur asked after a moment.
Alfred's eyes were gleaming. "I've been here long enough to pick up on a couple of moves. Want me to teach you?"
"Yes, you seem eager to get out there anyway." Arthur found himself smiling back. "Though I must warn you, I'm a bit of a heeler..."
"Aww, that's no problem! By the end of that six months we'll be a regular pair of floorflushers."
Arthur had barely any time to finish his drink after that because in the next moment Alfred had grabbed his hand and was dragging him towards the dancing couples in the middle of the speakeasy. And if anyone thought it odd that two men were dancing together, well, everyone here was drunk or almost drunk, so it didn't matter. Everyone was having a good time.
As he had predicted, Arthur was at first a very poor dancer. But Alfred was patient and eager to teach Arthur, and the almost constant stream of strong alcohol helped loosen up his body. The swing music continued playing on, and it seemed it would be like this until the bar closed. A mere hour after they'd stepped onto the dance floor and Arthur felt confident enough to actually dance with Alfred. He was laughing, body pressed up right against the American's, and it honestly felt like heaven.
Alfred was having a grand old time too, if the joy on his face was anything to go by. He swung Arthur around and dipped him, occasionally even giving him a twirl. His face was covered in sweat and when he leaned in he smelled of alcohol, but to Arthur, that made him even more appealing. He looked...free. He looked like everything Arthur had ever wanted.
By the end of the second hour their clothes were sticking to their bodies, but neither of them wanted to stop, they were so caught up in the music and the atmosphere and each other. Arthur was slowly losing the ability to decipher when the songs changed, but the beat stayed the same so they were able to keep it up. Other people came onto the dance floor, and some of the dancers left, but they two stayed until the speakeasy closed and the band started packing up like the floorflushers Alfred had predicted them to be.
Arthur didn't want to leave Alfred's side, but as they stumbled along the sidewalk he knew he would have to. Alfred's arm was slung over his shoulder and he was pressed against the American's ribs, and he felt wholly content to stay there- and that wasn't just the alcohol talking. All too soon, it seemed, they reached the building where Arthur was renting his small apartment for the duration of his trip.
"Will I see you again?" Alfred's eyes looked almost unnaturally blue in the dim light from the street lamp.
"Will you be at The Bath Club again?"
"If you're there, then every night... Especially if you buy booze. 'M too poor to afford it- the good stuff anyway." Alfred started rambling on about how he came from down in the Dust Bowl area, and his family had had to sell their farm. Most of Alfred's factory work earnings went to them to help them get fed.
It sobered Arthur up a little bit, and he couldn't help empathising a bit with Alfred. "It's good of you that you help them, Al..." he murmured, reaching out to take Alfred's hand and squeeze it gently.
The action made Alfred glance over at him. The American did a double take and seemed to gaze at Arthur for the very first time. "Yeah... Fuck Arthur, you're so tight..." His eyes flickered across all of Arthur's features and he smiled, satisfied with what his saw.
"A-Am I?" Did Alfred really find him that attractive?
"Yeah..." Smiling, Alfred pressed Arthur up against the door, and at this hour there was no one around to see. "You're so unreal... I want you all to myself..."
"You're drunk, Alfred," Arthur whispered. "Come talk to me when you're not completely bent." He didn't think he could go through a one night stand with Alfred- he wanted the boy, but wanted him genuinely.
"C'mon, don't blow me, Artie..." Alfred pleaded. "Not like this. Can I at least get some cash?" He leaned in gently, only to be stopped by Arthur's hand.
He'd remembered the negative reply just in time. "Bank's closed," he whispered, though there was a small grin on his face.
Alfred looked shocked for a moment at being denied his kiss, though a moment later he burst out laughing. "Oh I like you, Artie! I'll definitely be seeing you around." He smiled broadly and moved Arthur's hand away, lacing their fingers together. "But really? Not even one?" And even though he was almost completely drunk, Alfred managed to pull off some pretty impressive puppy eyes.
Arthur melted- how could he not? "Oh fine, you silly man." And he leaned in to give Alfred a gentle peck on the lips.
He gasped when he found himself pressed more firmly against the door, Alfred practically draped over him and even rubbed their bodies together a little bit. Pretty soon his tongue was also invading Arthur's mouth, though after a moment the Brit was opening his mouth eagerly for it. The kiss was sloppy and drunk but passionate, and Arthur was sad when it ended.
"That was unreal, Artie..." Alfred whispered to him, a smile on his lips as he moved away. "I'll see you at The Bath Club?"
"Yes. Shall we say Friday?"
"Yeah..." Alfred breathed, then with a final kiss he was gone.
Arthur stayed pressed against the door for another few minutes, sighing happily and staring at the faint glimmer of stars. Only the brightest ones were visible, but they still provided a pretty sight amidst the brick. Alfred... Oh that boy. He had a feeling The Bath Club would become a very special place for the both of them. A place full of alcohol and music and dancing and lust and love. Arthur couldn't wait for Friday.