[Alfred and Arthur] Mickey D's!

[Alfred F. Jones]

Alfred grinned as they walked into the red and yellow painted place, his nose automatically smelling the potatoes fried in oil, the meat patties being fried and the chicken nuggets! He shivered happily at the warmth and smells of the place and continued to pull his unintrested partner along. He tugged on Arthur's hand again, making the Briton stumble forward because the shorter of the two could not keep up with Alfred's long strides. At least he wasn't carrying the Briton over his shoudler anymore, that was quite a sight for everyone as they walked down the street with Alfred grinning like a child at Christmas and Arthur yelling many things in his ear.

The American pulled them up to the line in front of the counter and rubbed his hands together and he pulled out a few fives and two ones. "Oh, yeah. I can't wait to taste something other than that schools food." He tugged on the Briton's hand again so Arthur bumped into him and he smiled brightly. "So, what are you going to get?!"

[Arthur Kirkland]

That had to be the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him. So, his band member and acquaintance (see: not friend) suddenly decided that he had a tremendous craving for McDonalds. Which, honestly, Arthur was fine with. Of course he was. Because he did, against common misconceptions, enjoy McDonalds an awful lot. However, usually not in his current company.

Arthur glared at Alfred distastefully as he dragged him along by hand. Yes, by hand towards the counters to order their food. The problem? Arthur refused to come out initially. He flat out refused, and tried to push past the American and then--And THEN--He picked him up! Just slung him over his shoulder, literally and carried him out the school, kicking and shouting, like a bag of potatoes! Oh, Arthur was furious.

"You better be paying for this. I don't want to spend the pocket money my brother gave me on such an insignificant luxury!" Arthur exclaimed at him, in annoyance, and snatched his hand - finally - out of Alfred's own. Damn that hyperactive boy. "Just get me a meal deal with chicken nuggets, alright? Sprite for the drink."

[Alfred F. Jones]

He thumbed through the bills quickly, counting them up in his head and then glanced down at the Briton happily. "Yeah, sure!" He looked up at the different type and then looked back at Arthur. "You want chicken nuggest or selects? If selects do you want three piece of five piece? And if nuggest do you want five, ten or twenty?" He had remembered everything about that menu.

Alfred started to bounce on the balls of his feet when he saw that they were next. "Yes! Number one and Number three with large coke here I come."

[Arthur Kirkland]

Arthur stared at Alfred in a stupor. Did he come to McDonalds all the bloody time?! What a classic bloody American! He narrowed his eyes, crossing his eyes sceptically. No wonder Alfred's arse was--Actually, no. Alfred had a pretty toned arse if he ever did see one. Oh, what on earth was he even thinking? He could think he had a nice arse and not be attracted to him, right? Yes, by jove he could.

"Erm. Right. I have no clue what you are talking about. I only want some bloody chicken nuggets!!" Arthur exclaimed at him grumpily. He then decided that the American was going to hassle him till he made a decision. Well, damn him. Damn him to heck. "I'll just have ten. Nuggets - like I said. NUGGETS."

Rolling his eyes, he wondered if Alfred was an ex-McDonalds worker. How embarrassing...

[Alfred F. Jones]

"Alright, alright. Cool your jets. I'll get you nuggest." Alfred smirked as they were called up to the counter and he rattled off at least four numbers. Then when the lady asked him what size fries and drink did he want with Arthur's combo the American thought about asking but just said meduim. He paid the woman with a winning smile, and got his change back along with a small giggle from the woman.

As they waited for their food Alfred teased Arthur by poking at the man's large eyebrows. Petting them and cooing at them, calling them 'little baby caterpillars'.

[Arthur Kirkland]

"S-Shut the fuck up!" Arthur growled at Alfred in annoyance, starting to get even more agitated at the American's antics. He looked around guiltily afterwards, having realised that he had shouted a swear word in a kid's place. A glare was placed on Alfred, as if it had been his fault - for aggravating him - and gave a 'hmph'.

Once their food was supplied to them, Arthur waited till Alfred got the bits and bobs before he grabbed Alfred's arm and tugged him towards the entrance/exit of the place. For two reasons; one, there were snotty-nosed children in here and stressed out parents, and two, Arthur was dying for a cigarette. The stress did that to him. Once outside, he took the packet out and stuck one in his mouth, before patting his jacket down for the lighter. "...y'dn'thuvwund'y'?" He asked Alfred, mouth somewhat full.

[Alfred F. Jones]

He smiled as Arthur made the entire Mc Donalds forwn at them for the Briton's loud outburst with colorful words. "Good going..." Alfred chuckled as he moved to get a few more napkins, but let out a suprised noise when Arthur grabbed his arms and started to tug him outside. "What the heck, man?!"

Alfred frowned when they were back outside, and no where to really sit except the grass. Alfred sighed at set his food down easily, but when he looked back up at the Briton he felt annoyed. "I'm sorry. I can't understand you with that cancer stick in your mouth." He stood up and smiled coldly. "Let me help you there." Alfred plucked the stick out from Arthur's mouth and broke the flimsy thing in half. "Now, what were you saying?"

[Arthur Kirkland]

The Briton looked at Alfred in absolute shock as he took his cigarette out of his mouth and snapped it in half. His lower lip wobbled slightly as he tried to comprehend what had just happened. Did he... really... and... why on Earth had he done that?!

'Cancer stick'. He was opposed to smoking, wasn't he? Well, surely he could have just said so - rather than being simply so outward with his rejection of his habit? There were such conceivable things as manners!! Arthur gritted his teeth, and glared at Alfred like he had never seen such a mockery of man!

"Oh for bloody sakes of Hell! If you don't like smoking, then you should just say so! I go through bother to get those fucking cigarettes, you monumental twat!" Arthur shouted at him, not caring that there were people walking past. He shoved his things back into his bag and huffed.

[Alfred F. Jones]

He didn't care if the Briton made a scene, he wasn't about to let the man smoke. At least not in front of him. "Yeah. I don't like smoking. I also don't like the idea of my friends smoking either." Yes. He had said friend. Maybe he used the term too loosely, but he needed some kind of companionship at this place and he would take what he could get. Even if that meant that stuffy angry English kid.

"You go through a bother?" Alfred raised an eyebrow at that phrasing. "What the heck do you bother to do?"

[Arthur Kirkland]

"Oh never you mind!" Arthur scoffed, clearly pissed off with the other individual. What on Earth was he playing at? The English boy pressed against the wall behind him, clearly avoiding Alfred's eyes. Yes, he could feel him judging him. All the bad kids are the ones that smoke, boo hoo. Arthur knew that it was a bad habit.

Sighing, he realised he was just delaying the inevitable answer. "Look, getting cigarettes at our age is difficult. Especially at a prestigious school like that! I have to get someone to supply me with the goods for goodness sakes! And I did try to quit. I quit for two years before, bam! Something happened and I just could not handle life without consuming one of those..."

[Alfred F. Jones]

Alfred watched the Briton for a moment, seeing how upset he was by those massive eyebrows furrowing. The American scratched at his nose before he dug into the pocket of his old bomber jacket and fished around until he found what he was looking for. "Ah, here we go..." He said softly as he offered Arthur what he held.

It was the size of a buisness card and had teal green writing on the front. "No worries about people seeing it cause its clear and can go on under the clothes." He took the Briton's hand and placed it in Arthur's palm. "The patch is way better then dying or losing your ability to speak. Don't ya think?"

[Arthur Kirkland]

Arthur found himself with a patch in his hand. He glanced down at it distastefully, knowing exactly why Alfred had given it to him. Well! That was subtle, wasn't it? In annoyance, the Briton scowled and ripped the backing off, and slapped it onto his arm where nobody could see it.

"Well? Are you happy now?" Arthur grumbled fiercely at him, clearly not amused by the antics. Why was Alfred such exhausting work? "May I have my fucking McDonalds now?"

[Alfred F. Jones]

"Geeze. Your pretty mean to the guy who is trying to save you life and gave you his last patch." The American pouted softly then tossed one of the bags towards the Briton as he took a large swig of his coke. He then took out one of his ear buds and popped it into his ear, starting to play the music from his ipod in his pocket. He offered Arthur the other bud with a questioning eyebrow raised.

"Wanna listen?"

[Arthur Kirkland]

"What were you doing with a big bunch of patches anyway, Alfred?" Arthur asked suspiciously. If it turned out that the American was actually a smoker/ex-smoker that was passing on the message, he would be frightfully annoyed. With a glare, he clicked his tongue and took one of the earphone buds; placing it in his ear. "I'm only listening so that you aren't ignoring me as much anymore...!"

He took their bag of McDonalds and opened it up. He took out his chicken nuggets, and shoved the rest into his bag for now. He hated having barely any hands for this. After eating one - not eating with his mouth full - he looked at Alfred. "Oi--Want to find somewhere to sit down?"

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