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“I’m not fucked up enough for this,” Alfred said as he sipped his drink (water), trying to suppress his giggles. He couldn’t take any of this seriously. The music sounded like a siren going on and off, there were kids shuffling around in a dark basement with red lasers, and people even had sunglasses indoors.
He was on the dancefloor, briefly, with Matthew. He nodded his head a few times, but kept wanting to giggle at everyone around him who were flicking their hands to the fire alarm beat. He tried ignoring the music and kept an eye on his brother, who was dancing right in front of the DJ. If Alfred was a stranger, he might have thought that Matthew had a crush on the albino. Well, Alfred wasn’t a stranger and he definitely could confirm that Matthew had a crush on DJ Bird. (What kind of name was that? If Alfred was a DJ, he’d call himself DJ Eagle or something.)
“Are you bored or something, poppet?”
Even over the blaring sounds, Alfred could hear that this guy had an accent. Some short guy with some red stripes in his hair. And yeah, just like the other silly people in the crowd, was wearing a pair of thin sunglasses. Flashes of red overtook them for a moment.
Alfred squinted, “What are you, British?” Then, he made a gagging sound.
The guy scrunched up his nose. “Fine, I was just fucking checking on you.”
“Waitwait,” Alfred said, reaching out to grab this guy by his leather jacket. Then he noticed the choker on the guy. He yelled a bit over the music. “Sorry, I had to make the joke. The name’s Alfred. Thanks for checking on me.”
The guy brought his thin sunglasses to the bottom of his nose. A flash of light and Alfred saw green. “Arthur. I noticed you hanging out in the back, is this your first time?”
“Yeah. My brother dragged me here.”
“Your brother…” The guy – Arthur – followed Alfred’s line of sight. Matthew was right by the DJ, dancing almost hypnotically.
“He’s got a crush on the DJ or something. Dragged me all the way here to see him play live.”
Arthur snorted. “Good luck. He’s a sore loser.”
“Do you know the DJ?”
Arthur crossed his arms. “I’m with the DJ, dearie.”
“What? You’re dating him? I’m sorry that my brother is all over him, I can–”
This time, Arthur made a gagging sound. “Ugh. Don’t ever say that again. No, we’re just friends. Anyway, since you’re okay…”
Alfred couldn’t see Arthur’s eyes so he had no idea what kind of expression the other guy had. The British guy vaguely gestured his hands.
“Huh?” Alfred replied.
He took off his glasses. “Do you need me to spell it out for you or something? I asked if you wanted to dance.”
“Oh. Uhm.” Alfred looked at the crowd. He swore that he just heard a cowbell sound effect just now. “I dunno, man. Not really my style. Can’t keep up.”
“There’s nothing of the sort. Here, just take my word for five minutes. If you don’t like it, I’ll buy you a drink.” Arthur said, smirking a bit.
Alfred bit his lip. “I don’t drink.”
“Even better. Neither do I. Let’s dance.” Arthur eyed him again and Alfred got all sorts of hot under the collar of his shirt.
He let himself be dragged out to the dance floor. It was way louder than earlier and the cowbells and sirens were even more obvious to Alfred. He looked at Arthur who was back to wearing his shades.
Arthur said, “Okay, close your eyes.”
“What the fuck? I’m not closing my eyes here, that’s gotta be a fire hazard, dude.”
Alfred swallowed as Arthur peeked over his sunglasses again. “I said to take my word for five minutes. Here, I’ll take your hand.”
Alfred shut his eyes. He felt Arthur take his hands in his own and they swayed lightly back and forth to whatever rhythm was in the air.
Alfred identified the main beat and he bobbed his head up and down. He felt his arms move like he wasn’t in control. Slowly, he focused on the rhythm. It felt like he was in a kaleidoscope. He felt his body sway, but it felt like he was floating in water rather than being on a dancefloor.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Arthur whispered in his ear.
Alfred’s eyes shot up and he covered his ear. It was hot and ticklish. Arthur was looking straight at him and his mouth curved into a wicked smirk.
“Yeah.” Alfred whispered.
[...]
They stayed on the dance floor until the end of DJ Bird’s set. Alfred had never felt so high despite being completely sober throughout the night! When they were changing DJs, Arthur dragged Alfred towards the bar area and got them two waters.
“That was crazy.” Alfred said. “I felt like I was in a trance or something.”
“I know. I knew you’d have fun, lad.” Arthur chugged the water as soon as it came their way. Alfred followed a drop of water that traveled down Arthur’s throat.
“You’re friends with the DJ? You came with just him?” Alfred asked.
“No, a few of my other friends are here. Actually, I think I want to step out for some fresh air.” Arthur hopped down the bar stool. “Grab your brother, I don’t want you to lose him.”
Alfred followed Arthur’s lead, bringing behind him a stumbling Mattthew. They walked around the maze of people, before leading them to a door. Alfred’s eyes had to adjust from the dark lights and smoke from the underground club, to the clean air and bright lights of the alley.
Once they got out, Arthur pushed up his sunglasses to his hair and lit up a cigarette.
“Wow, some ‘fresh air’–”
“Ah, there he is! Looks like les tourtereaux are finally here!” A voice said to the side. Alfred looked, it was some guy with slicked back blonde hair. It was actually a quite large group of people
“Shut your crab face up, Franny.” Arthur grumbled, drawing from his cancer machine. While Alfred was in over his head the whole night, he was definitely feeling a bit out of place. “Where the fuck is Gilbert.”
“Gilbert…?” Matthew whispered from behind him. He then grabbed Alfred’s arm in a death grip.
“Dude, what the hell–”
“He’s coming in like, 2 minutes, cool your tits off.” A man with brown hair said. He was also lighting a cigarette, and after one draw, he passed it on to another man behind him. The taller one swayed like a puppy in return.
“Apologies for their crassness.” Arthur finally said once he was done with his smoke. “The brooding bitch is just Lovino, but he controls the ugly one and the puppy and the bird.”
‘Franny’ shook his head and made his way to Alfred and Matthew. “Arthur, that is no way to introduce us. My name is Francis and the puppy’s name is Antonio. And, while Lovino does keep us on a tight leash,” the pervert winked, “we’re harmless! And while Arthur loves to belittle us, he’s the worst one yet. Dear, did you know he’s an actor?”
Alfred looked at Francis. Then to Arthur. Then thought back to Lovino’s “leash”. Then looked at Francis. Arthur’s random stripe of red in his hair.
“You’re… an actor? I guess that it actually makes sense though.” Alfred muttered. “I’ve only just met you and you are quite dramatic.”
“Oi, I’m nice to you this whole evening and this is how you fucking treat me–”
Lovino pushed the two blondes out of the way and grinned (or it was more like he was baring his teeth?), “We’re keeping you. And the guy behind you is obsessed with the albino bird bastard? Good luck, he’s a real nut job. And you're just his type.”
Matthew stuttered behind him, “Oh, me? I mean, what?”
“He’s fucking insane! The only reason I put up with their shit is because Toño here ‘can’t live without them’ or some bullcrap. But, Gil cleans up real nice, so be careful or be grateful, if you’re into that. But he can’t cook for shit and…”
Alfred slowly made his escape from Lovino preparing Matthew for a potential lover/lunatic. He made his way back to Arthur, who was steadily observing the whole group.
“I think Lovino’s also crazy.” He said to the Brit.
A moment passed. Then Arthur snorted, which eventually led him to turn away to cough and cover his red face. But Alfred still saw it in his periphery. Once the man recovered, he was smiling.
“That he is. I’m glad you see through him too.”
“So, you brought us out here to do some matchmaking? I think that’s way sillier than being an actor.”
“The man shall have his mare again, and all shall be well. I thought it might be something fun to do, and you’ve provided me with a really wonderful time!”
Once again, Arthur kept making Alfred hot by the neck. It felt so hard to keep up with this guy and his wordplays and plays of words or whatever. It helped that he was way more of a nerd than some untouchable club kid. And he’s somehow getting his brother to get the meet-cute of his life.
Speak of the devil.
“Bow down, bitches! The mighty Gilbert Beilschmidt is now here!”
“Shut up. This guy is a fan of you or whatever,” Arthur said, pointing to Matthew. “Have fun. Or not!”
Alfred bristled, “You should be trying to help Matthew! Not make it worse.”
But as he said that, it seems like the two were getting it on quite well. (“Dude, your hair is literally the color of my bird!” “Oh, is that why your DJ name is DJ Birdie?”) Alfred was satisfied. In his periphery vision, he was able to glance at Arthur with the cool skyline in the distance. Alfred looked again to him, and the wacky ensemble group. He didn’t think that his night out with Matthew would actually get him in line with the DJ and co.
Arthur touched his shoulder, and it was warm. “Want to get out of here?” His eyes were a vivid green and it popped out in the darkness.
Alfred breathed out. “Yes.”