A/N: I wanted to make a T-rated story which makes my readers finish reading with a smile on their faces~ Cheers!

Pairing: UK X China

Warning: AU.

Thank you for my beta sama s~~~ Kaya's Window and Blind Alchemist!

Summary: Best read under the sun, when you are the most calm and relaxed~

Clank.

The door to the back kitchen was opened. Arthur Kirkland turned back in surprise, since the opening of the door meant either he made the wrong preparation or something else was wrong. But he was sure that he only made the tea blends, not the food…

"Kirkland, this is the new guy I told you last night. His name is Wang Yao. Teach him everything."

Arthur grumbled as he calmed himself down. Damn those French. They have no manners and always hyperbolize everything. He wondered why he even agreed to open the Tea House with France three months ago. But regretting things bring nothing, so he turned his attention to the smaller being beside the French Tea House master. His deep black hair caught Arthur's immediate attention.

Hair that black always indicates Asian, for sure. The name implied that the new guy was a Chinese. And that was weird. It was uncommon for Francis Bonnefoy to accept Asians. There were many international student applicants for the vacant waiter/kitchen hand job, but France declined them based on his aesthetics. That French bastard only chose beauties of his standard, and his choices usually included a set of big breasts and blondes.

Then Arthur noticed something different. The Asian was indeed, pretty. Even by his personal standard. The small fragile looking build and the warm smile washed away his doubt for Francis' choice. Everything about the new guy looked so delicate and small. His lips, his nose, his face, his build… and the eyes. Asians have lines as their eyes. And when this new guy smiled, his eyes resembled two lines, friendly and trusting.

Maybe that French frog's choice wasn't so bad.

Arthur's lips formed a soft smile.

"Welcome to our tea house."

"First, you need to make sure that the water tastes good."

Arthur took a spoonful of water out from the kettle and tasted it. Then he let the small Asian taste the water from another spoon. He looked lost, but stoically nodded. Arthur smiled. He knew that not many could taste the difference. For other people they may taste the same, but for him, with all those years of experience, every source of water has their own distinctive taste. The water from the tap is rougher than mineral water, and the water from mineral bottle tastes bland compared to the water from the distilled source. Arthur had always been a fussy drinker. Raised up in the country with his grandmother as the sole guardian had shaped his personality to be those like the elderly; fussy from experience and concerned with perfection. And it proved very useful to his current job. He opened a tea house co-joined with Francis Bonnefoy, his childhood enemy slash neighbour.

"I believe that you can boil water just like usual, and while it boils, you need to prepare the pots and the cups. Make sure you boil enough water to wash the pots and cups too, to preserve the same taste. Wipe them properly with clean linen."

Arthur put down delicate Chinas on the bench, took a yellow striped linen cloth nearby, and started to polish the tea cups. He signalled for Yao to do the same for the pot. Yao nodded and got his own blue striped linen cloth, gently lifting the pots in his small hands. Arthur wondered why his hands were so small. He was a man; yet the hands, no, everything about him felt so small. Maybe Chinas are for Chinese to handle. Arthur chuckled at his own weird thinking. And he stopped when he caught the Asian was looking at him closely, hard but not discomforting.

The eyes, Arthur noticed. They are gold.

"…What kind of tea do you like?" Arthur tried to hide his embarrassment and changed the topic of his thought.

Yao held his breath, and whispered. "I like Jasmine Oolong Tea, aru."

"Jasmine? It is a very nice, fragrant tea. Good choice, Yao."

Then Arthur noticed how the porcelain yellow cheek blushed. He felt like he had crossed some kind of vague line when suddenly Yao stammered,

"H..How about you, Mr. Kirkland?"

"Call me Arthur." Arthur smiled. "Hmm… I like black teas, mostly. But what I love is Earl Grey. Their distinctive taste and the smoothness… never fails to accompany my afternoon mood."

"…I never really tried those, aru." Yao smiled too, as the atmosphere between them got more comfortable. "I actually prefer Green tea, aru."

"Really? I presume that the Chinese love black teas more than green ones?"

"Well… I am not sure, aru. I like the usual Chinese tea, the more bitter the better, but I like to enjoy their nice smell when they brew, aru."

"…You like tea, Yao?"

"…I like them, just like you too, Mr… Arthur."

"How do you know I like tea? We haven't even known each other before."

Yao smiled. "You presumed the Chinese like black tea. So it is safe for me to say that I presume the Master in this wonderful Tea House is in love with tea, aru!"

Arthur blushed. "Hey… you sure are straightforward, Yao."

The Asian laughed softly, just when the kettle hissed in anger, signalling that the water was ready. They didn't use the electric kettle because Arthur was in charge of tea preparation. For him, the older ways are better. Conservatives, one may say. Francis, who was in charge of customer service, always complained that the gas kettle consumed too much time compared to the electric ones.

"And you need to immediately pour the water into the pot, not too much; just enough to make it warm. Then I suggest you use this thermometer; because the temperature is very important to brew a good pot of tea. I don't need them, because I am used to this, but as a beginner, I think you better use the thermo…"

Arthur stopped talking as he saw how Yao closed his eyes and felt the sides of the pot warming with the increase of hot water inside it.

"It's warm, aru."

Arthur touched the part where Yao just felt and nodded. Indeed, it was almost the perfect temperature setting. So he washed the water out and put the tea leaves in.

"Two scoops…" Damn, why is the image of Yao closing his eyes unable to leave his head, "…of the tea and then pour…" concentrate! "… the water in."

Yao nodded and poured the water, but he started from an awkward angle, and thus, some spilling leaked out from the side of the kettle.

"Be careful." Arthur whispered softly, and guided the smaller hands firmly. His hands nicely enveloped the smaller ones, and he got the better control of the kettle handle and the pot. He slowly poured the water, perfectly unspilled, into the pot, and then closed it down. Suddenly his head was filled with some nice smell of newly brewed tea… and something else.

That something else being the scent of the hair of the Asian man.

He didn't realize it, but their bodies had moved into a closer position than the usual polite distance. His arms were gently around Yao's arms and he was standing just behind Yao, with his head tilted down to the same level of the Asian's face.

Even though the kettle has been put safely on the bench, both men stood stiffly, still enjoying the moment of touch between them.

"Hey, are the orders done yet?" Francis asked from the kitchen window. He was surprised to find that the newly hired kitchen hand was standing that close—almost beneath his conservative virgin business partner.

"We are trying to have business here." Francis smiled, and both men in the kitchen separated themselves from each other within seconds. Both blushed furiously and Arthur hastily put the tea sets on the tray and gave it to the smiling Frenchman.

"Shut up, Frog. I know."

"I don't mind personal thingys, but don't mix it with business, oui?"

"I am not like you."

"Oui~ and the proof proved otherwise."

So began the wonderful days of teas and small conversation between them. Yao not only was a fast learner; he was also a good inventor. Under his suggestion, Arthur added another sets of teas into the menus, something like chrysanthemum tea, strawberry tea with rose petals, mint flavoured Earl Grey, and some others. Not the most unique of their kind, but Yao made their presentation so pretty that many returned back to just enjoy a glass pot filled with bubbly green liquid decorated with many small flowery buds. Or some ice teas with real flowers inside its ice cubes.

They started to sell some cakes and scones; but Arthur was not the one handling them. His tea making ability was superb, but it was inversely proportional to his baking ability. Yao once laughed for hours when he saw the result of Arthur's baking attempt. Francis, on the other hand, was a great patisserie. His choux pastry, or cream puff, was irresistible. But he preferred to interact with pretty customers rather than conventional ovens, so in the end they ordered the cakes and scones from another patisserie nearby.

And the most enjoyable thing hadn't changed; Arthur and Yao shared some still moments where their hands would meet, and their smiles lit up each other's faces. A bit of bumping while taking the tea containers, a small laugh when Yao made his occasional exclamation 'Aiyah!' when something went wrong. Everything was enjoyable, and they began to crave each other's company more than business hours. But neither dared to speak first. So their communication always stopped when the shop was closed.

Arthur was a conventional man. He loved to do stuff through conventional means. Maybe it was his grandmother's teachings. And this kind of relationship was new to him. Firstly, he never fell in love before, so he wasn't sure by the meaning of love. Secondly, his family died long time ago due to an accident; and his sole guardian—his grandmother—died from old age a few years back. So he had nobody to ask or refer to. Thirdly, his pride and conventional ways made him a loner, and he would die first before asking Francis about any of this. Fourth, he and Yao were both men, so love wouldn't naturally sprout between them. At least it was what the general romance guide books said.

Their customers grew; and so did their staff numbers. France hired a lot of pretty waitresses and handsome waiters, while Arthur hired another 2 kitchen hands. Their days started to get busier, and more than once he caught Yao looked longingly at him in still moments, also more than once he caught himself watching the Asian man laughing at the other kitchen helpers.

He could only watched and being watched in silence.

It was pathetic of him.

Sad.

"Stop beating around the bush, will you?" Francis poured another whisky into Arthur's glass. "Just ask him out."

"W..Who?" Arthur blushed deeply, pretending he was all innocent—and failed. "Who do you mean? I am not, NOT beating around what bush? I don't have a bush!"

"Wait… you don't have a bush?" Francis smiled perversely, leaving Arthur feeling awkward and embarrassed.

"I do! I mean, shut up! What is this? Who do you think…"

"I saw one of the new waiters take him home yesterday. I don't want to interfere with your snail pace, but someone with a better sense of things may snatch him away. He is really pretty, you see…"

"Shut up, Frog."

"I am hurt. I am helping you and you call me a frog. Come on. You may be conventional, but you are not stupid, Arthur."

"… but we are… well, men."

"Who cares? This era and time, you can always choose whatever you think is right. You bear your own responsibility from your choice anyway. As a Frenchman I need to say that love is not bound only between a man and a woman. But as a friend, I need to say this. They say it as 'falling in love', you see… and nobody ever chooses to fall. So you cannot choose who you are in love with. Face it, my dear friend. Or you will be a coward who regrets it on your deathbed."

Francis was waiting for another 'frog, shut up!' voice from the drunken man, so he was amazed when Arthur suddenly smiled.

"Thank you, Francis."

Francis sighed. "Maybe you are drunk, that's why."

"Goou twithmefor dinnerto nig htwillyou?"

"I beg your pardon, aru?"

Arthur was boiling red. His hands were sweating, and he was betting in the seconds before the others kitchen hands will come and crowded the kitchen.

"… Will you have… dinner… or something… with me?"

Yao couldn't believe his ears. He pinched his cheek.

"This is a dream, right, aru? Ahahahahaha."

"Yao?"

"Aiyah! My cheek hurts! … So this is real, aru? You are asking me out, aru?"

"I am as real as you can be."

Now it was Yao's turn to be reddish.

And he nodded.

But they were not prepared. They were already comfortable as co-workers, but not as lovers. They walked together in awkward silence. Nobody knew what to talk about, although both were rocking their brains hard to find a safe ground of conversation starter.

And they failed. The dinner passed peacefully without any conversation. To the audience, they looked like robots trying to finish their food as fast as possible. They paid the bill and went away, towards the station, where they separated ways.

Yao walked slowly, two steps behind Arthur. He dreamt of this so many times before. He was not what people call romantic, yet he believed he was in 'love' when he felt Arthur's breath on his cheek the first day he worked in the small Tea House. He was an international student, working for fun since he needed not care about living fees; it was just summer holiday with nothing to do and Yao was a bit reluctant to go back to his own country due to some family problem.

But reality was harder than his dreams. In his dreams, they would jump from one scene to the other, having light but comfortable conversation and it would end by a kiss. Looking to the station building, Yao could feel that they won't have any good conversation tomorrow, let alone a kiss that night.

And he refused to have those bleak future possibilities.

So he decided on impulse and dragged England back to the shop.

"Come with me, aru."

"Where are we going?"

"To the shop, aru."

"Why?"

"I want to do something for you."

That was their first conversation of the night. When they reached the shop, Yao walked straight to the kitchen and opened the cabinet, boiling a kettle of water.

"Yao…?"

"Sit outside, aru. Just pretend you are a customer or something."

So Arthur sat down on one of the customer chair outside and looked around him. He was always in the kitchen, and he never really paid any attention with the interior design. It was all controlled by Francis, and since Arthur had no interest in the layout, he never complained. Yet now he realized that he needed to praise the Frenchman for his sense of style.

The room was a bit dim at night, but with the natural lighting from the glass on the roof, it would be very bright by the day. Small tables and chairs filled up the room until the maximum area it could occupy without giving the feeling of narrowness between them. The tables were covered by soft blue tablecloths, embroidered by small little dark blue flowers and green leaves. A small vase stood beautifully by the middle of each table, giving the homey impression. The wall was covered by handmade crafts, embroidery and paintings, with a big quilt with many different colour patches covering one of the most exposed walls. And the type of hanging lamps that hung nicely from the ceiling, not too low against the tables, and yet giving the impression of not being too high, added some fancy style into the familiarity.

And then his trained nose could smell a really good Earl Grey tea from the kitchen. A minute after, Yao came out with a tray bearing a tea pot and two cups. He smiled as he put the tray in front of the dirty blonde man, slowly pouring the tea into the cups elegantly.

"Please drink this, aru." Yao whispered. "And lift your mood, aru."

"… Yao?"

"I can see that you were bored when we were together just now. I don't want you to remember out first date and me as boring, aru. It was a really lovely dinner for me, and I hope you feel the same way, aru."

Arthur stared at the cup of tea. It was still hot and he could see how good the dark golden colour it was. He slowly sipped some and felt different from usual.

"Did you add something else, Yao?"

Yao nodded.

"What did you add? This tasted so refreshing…"

"…Guess, aru~"

"Hm… Russian Caravan?"

"No."

"Lapsang Souchong Tea?"

"Nope~ Please try again aru."

"…Ceylon?"

"Tuuut. Wrong answer, aru~"

And then Arthur realized what he was missing. He smiled.

"…Green tea? With a touch of Jasmine?"

Yao blushed deeply and nodded. "They tasted good together, right?"

"You did this before?"

"I was experimenting, aru. I started with too much green tea, and it tasted bitter. Then the Jasmine covered the Earl Grey scent. So I change the measurement a bit, and this is the perfect blend, aru."

As Yao flushed deeply and getting more animatedly talking about his trials and errors, Arthur noticed how cute he was. They finally found the same ground conversation topic. Yao seemed to be nervous and tried his best to be cheerful, and somehow his desperate attempt looked adorable in Arthur's eyes. And somehow those animated lips were so small…

And he kissed the man.

"AIYA!" China shouted and jumped back, covering his lips. It felt like burning, the parts that just touched Arthur's lips. And he blushed.

Arthur smiled warmly, and cupped the Asian's cheek gently.

"Sorry to surprise you like that. But I like you, Yao. Your blend is the perfect one I have been looking for. So be my partner."

Yao held his breath as he smiled back. "…I like you too, Arthur. So I will be your partner, aru."

"Nice hickeys."

Arthur's face reddened as fast as his hand flew to cover up his neck.

"Shut up, Frog."

"Oh. I can see that you two have made up~ Yao is glowing like a lamp post now." Francis smiled. "But it is killing me to know… which one of you is the top?"

Arthur refused to answer and looked away, finishing his last touch on the tray of special blend of the house—Earl Grey with a touch of Jasmine green tea.

I hope you are smiling by now~

Thank you for supporting me. I know that I am not a good writer, but at least I want you to enjoy what I write~!And a simple love story is what I am craving right now~

Thank you very much!