gluttonous

“Cook more than— why would you cook more than this? It looks like you’re trying to feed an entire army.”

Arthur should have known. The concept of portion sizes was never something the American had grasped. Arms still folded as he leaned against the doorway, he looked along the kitchen worktops that was covered in plates of food and the ingredients to make them, his expression equal parts baffled and exasperated.

There’d be leftovers in the fridge for weeks – or at least there would be, if it weren’t for the other’s insatiable appetite. This amount wouldn’t see it past the next few days, no doubt.

❝An entire army?❞ Alfred started laughing ❝This isn’t even enough! We eat more than this!❞ He shook his head and turned the stove off to go to the fridge.

❝Well forget about that Iggy! I gotta cook more if we’re having guests!❞ He starts getting out more ingredients out ❝How many more people are coming?❞ He puts them out on the counter ❝Do I even have any more oreos and batter for this?❞ What about jalapeños? Does he even have enough of that too? Potatoes, are there enough?

A glance was thrown down towards the feline who had at some point started following along, forming a very strange line as they made their way to the kitchen. What next? Was Matthew going to join in too as they shuffled their way towards the door?

Pushing it open, Arthur ignored the unpleasant coldness of bare feet against tile, and immediately made his way towards the kettle he’d been sure to bring along with him in their travels. ‘Nice’ as Alfred was being, he wasn’t doing anything before a cuppa.

“I’m not feeding the bloody cat for you, you can do that yourself.”

Flicking the kettle’s switch, Arthur hastily grabbed a cup from nearby. If Alfred wanted anything to drink himself, he was sure the American would make it known.

❝Yeesh, I know. I was gonna feed ‘im myself. He’s got his own food anyways.❞ Pretty sure the cat will die if he ate Arthur’s food anyways. Once they were in the kitchen, Alfred went to the cabinets and got out the canned cat food. He grabs Tigger’s bowl and places it on the counter.

While Alfred was getting the bowl filled up with the cat’s food as well as the water, Tigger jumped down and sat patiently on the counter. Soon he was able to eat. The blond pets his cat’s ears as the fluffy animal chowed down. Just like the owner, he eats a lot. There was a small pile of empty cans on the table. Good thing Alfred bought a couple of packs worth of canned food. It should last Tigger a month before he goes to restock.

❝There ya go buddy, eat up~❞ He chuckles, pulling away and putting the trash away too.

The feeling of little paws digging into his chest was the cause of his awakening this time, which was significantly preferred over the obnoxious yelling of the cat’s owner. Apparently in the time it had taken the Brit to doze off in the living room of the shared home, someone had gotten up to something in the kitchen, evident by the strong smell of freshly cooked food that hit him the moment he opened his eyes.

“Hm?”

Looking at the fluffy-furred cat that perched on his chest, it didn’t take long for Arthur to figure out just who exactly was behind all this.

Giving the feline a quick scratch behind the ear before it was shooed aside so he could stand, the elder blond followed the scent into the kitchen area, arms folding over his chest as he lingered in the doorway, brows raising before a look of concern settled on his face as he watched the American surround himself with more and more food.

“Are we expecting company or something? What’s with the feast?”

Don’t tell him Alfred was planning to eat this all alone. He really was going to get fat.

The cat purred, taking the ear scratches as a reward for waking up Arthur. He hops down from the Brit and follows him to the kitchen, going to Alfred and meowing. Alfred of course didn’t have to ask because after that meow, he heard the other’s voice. He stops what he was doing and he looks back, like he was hit with a surprise.

❝We’re having guests?! Iggy why didn’t you tell me?! I would have cooked more than this!❞

That answers Arthur’s question for sure.

@gentlemanscountry

Whenever it’s Alfred’s turn to cook, people would expect him to have shitty cooking skills like Arthur. Except he doesn’t. He cooks rather well. The only problem is...

He cooks too much.

Alfred cooks in large quantities to the point it looks like there’s going to be a party. But in all honesty, that’s just how much he cooks. He cooks a lot mainly because it was fit for his appetite. Now since he lives with others, he cooks twice as much as he does when alone.

He looks down when he feels his cat rubbing against his legs ❝Hey Tiggster. Sorry buddy, can’t pet you right now. Got my hands tied.❞ Seems like the cat was content with just rubbing against him ❝Hey buddy? Mind waking Iggy up? He fell asleep in the living room.❞ He didn’t want to wake the guy up since he’s been tired and all.

“You want… what?”

Here comes the confusion again, pausing in his tracks momentarily to throw a curious glance back at Alfred who seemed more than excited at the prospect of food in general. Was he… doing this on purpose? Arthur was planning to make something a bit more modern – namely a bunch of different meats on one plate and calling it breakfast – but for the other to specifically request something so nostalgic?

Well, maybe he can question it later. For now he continued on his way, content with the validation his cooking skills so obviously deserved. Alfred may have been an idiot with a bottomless appetite, but at least someone around here recognized his cuisine wasn’t so bad!

“I guess it wouldn’t be so hard to throw together.” Another pause as he glanced behind him yet again, raising a brow. “Are you planning to follow me like a shadow the entire time?”

Even the cat wasn’t this bad.

The blond nearly bumped into Arthur when he stopped. He looks down, tilting his head to the side wondering why the other stopped. He only gave him an innocent look too. He watched the other for a moment before following him once more.

“What?”

He’s admittedly a little suspicious when Alfred mentions the word ‘starving’, purely because it’s not uncommon for the American to stuff his face whenever he felt like it. Hadn’t he already raided the kitchen by now? Narrowing his eyes, Arthur throws him a curious glance, but he seemed to immediately perk up when his cooking is requested.

Consider the dreadful wakeup call forgotten as he continues his way towards the kitchen, feeling just a little bit pleased with him. See, his cooking can’t have been as bad people (specifically that bloody frog) claimed it to be!

“I was going to make something for myself so I suppose I don’t mind making extra if you really want some.”

Tell him you wanted the food, Alfred. Tell him you wanted his food and all will be forgiven.

It wasn’t uncommon yes, but it also means it wasn’t uncommon for him to be hungry almost immediately after cleaning out the kitchen. He grins at the other, not seeming to pick up that the other was suspicious of what he said. He throws a fist up in the air when Arthur agreed to make something for him too.

“Sorry, should I be thanking you for waking me up by screaming down one ear?”

He didn’t get the memo.

Flinching again as Alfred yelled out for the second time, Arthur took this as his queue to just get out of bed already. Lord knows the younger nation would keep shouting his mouth off until he got what he wanted, which at this point seemed to be only the satisfaction of ruining a restful sleep.

Pulling himself up onto his feet, Arthur gently kicked at the other’s side as if to silently urge him to get up off the floor, before heading towards the doorway. Annoying as the wakeup call was, it was fairly late in the day. Food and a hot cup of tea should help him adjust to the waking world a bit better.

❝Well if I didn’t, we’d be starving!❞ He laughs.

Well he didn’t expect Arthur to get the reference anyways. The guy is an old man. Well not as old as Yao but close. No need for a time machine when Arthur’s around.

He snickers when he felt the gentle kick and he stands up. He follows after the elder like a little pup.

“Pretty sure everyone is afraid of Ivan…” the poor guy probably needs a vacation too though. Although he’s not to spooked out by the guy, he’s actually great to play hockey with, it’s super scary when he mistakes him for his twin.

“Haha, no hockey I promise. We’d need more players anyway” it fills him with a bit of pride, having Alfred ask him that. “I’m leaving at 2 so we’ll have about an hour to skate before the place closes, you can even stay and help… Or watch me work if you promise not to goof around” he’ll probably forget about the whole thing anyway. He really does love spending time with his brother, so he’ll try, at least. “2pm, remember”

He did a quiet ‘yes’ when Matthew said no hockey. Honestly, he isn’t gonna lie, his twin is the scariest person ever. He’s all sweet and all, but the moment he has his hands on that stick, he just a whole different person. Alfred’s gonna McRun if that ever happens. Every man for themselves.

The American grinned ❝Y’know how hard it is to scare the guy. Ivan’s got more luck than me, like sheesh. Then again it is Ivan.❞ He raised a brow when he was invited to go skating.

From the way Alfred had woken him you’d think there was some kind of fire. Which there wasn’t. Just the taller blond rolling about on the floor in fits of laughter at Arthur’s reaction, which really wasn’t even that funny, was it?

Rubbing at his eyes to rid them of sleep, he groaned as he furrowed his brows.

“You’re lucky you weren’t.”

“What time is it?”

Maybe Alfred had decided to wake him because it was getting too late, instead of just being a complete tosser.

It took a while, but he finally calmed down and he was just now sitting up and leaning forward with a big grin on his face.

❝Lighten up, geez even on vacation you act like there’s a stick up your ass.❞ He snickers and he moves his hands to put them on the floor so he can lean back.

There wasn’t much that scared Arthur in the first place to garner the reaction that Alfred was looking for, but sneaking up on him in his sleep most definitely had to be cheating. Too far away in his dreams to even notice the American’s presence, he’d only just turned to press his face more into the soft pillow underneath him when the obnoxiously loud yelling had ruined his nap.

Startling as he jolted upright, eyes immediately widening in panic, Arthur bit down on his own tongue as he stopped himself from screaming right back at him.

“WHAT— What’s going on? What happened?!”

Alfred lost it at that point.

He was hugging his stomach, rolling on the floor, laughing his ass off. He curls up once he stops and he kept laughing.

@gentlemanscountry

He had to be quiet or else the Brit is gonna rise.

Alfred tiptoed over to Arthur, sneaking close to him and just as he got close to his ear, he took a deep breath.