A/N: This is a one-shot. A one-shot this is.

It was a rather warm evening as Alfred drove along an open stretch of highway. The sun was sinking quickly over the Californian hills. The stars were already glittering overhead of him and in his convertible he felt the cool wind in his hair. The highway itself was rather deserted seeing as he was on the outskirts of a small town that was insignificant in consideration to the larger cities such as San Francisco. Alfred felt a smile spread across his face. That was exactly where he was heading. And from there he would head to Hollywood. The red car he was in smelt of colitas, but it was a warm scent that made the already-drowsy man more so. He had been driving all day with only short stops for bathroom breaks and food. He wanted to get to San Fran as soon as possible, but he had miscalculated the distance.

Up ahead in the distance Alfred spied the glimmer of lights. A yawn burst from his lips. He could tell from where he was that it was a hotel and from the numerous lights he knew that it would be rather glamorous. His eyelids drooped and he nodded a bit before snapping awake. "Damn." He slapped his face lightly, talking to himself. He was exhausted. And the big city was still a couple hours away. Alfred knew he couldn't make it –at least, not without the risk of crashing. He had to stop for the night.

Turning into the parking section of the hotel Alfred gazed at it. The hotel dubbed "Hotel California" by the sign on the building looked to be of Spanish decent in design with low roofs of red and the walls being white but the hotel had multiple floors. Its size rather reminded Alfred of the Tower of Terror hotel. He quickly shook that thought from his head, though. He'd always hated ghosts and he didn't need to be thinking of such a thing. Nonetheless the place looked rather old on the outside and even abandoned despite the bright lights shining in various windows.

Alfred parked and looked around as he grabbed his suitcases from his car and strapped on his guitar before he headed for the front of the hotel. He could see a bell in a tower similar to what one would see at a monastery or church. He crossed over a line of small trees to the second half of the parking lot that consisted mostly of sidewalk. He spotted a Mercedes Benz and whistled. Damn, someone knew how to live. He grinned a little and finally turned to the doorway where he saw a figure. It was a man about his height but he appeared slightly older than Alfred himself –a year or two- with messy short blonde hair. His green eyes struck Alfred's heart and caused it to pound with instant attraction. This guy was attractive. And he also had the biggest eyebrows Alfred had ever seen. His outfit was no doubt a uniform of warm tan button-up and a maroon vest that matched his maroon long pants with gold trim on the side of both. He had a black bow-tie.

"Hey!" He called, smiling and approached the man. The blonde's green eyes flashed with alarm before they cleared into a melancholy but welcoming look. Alfred's heart thudded once in shock, entering his throat, but he swallowed it down.

"'Ello there." The man greeted and exposed his British accent. Alfred's attraction only deepened. British accents were sexy. "Are you looking to stay the night?"

"Yup!" Alfred nodded. "There's room, right?"

"There is always room, love." The man smiled.

"Then I'd like a room!" Just then the mission bell hanging in the tower gave a loud toll, as if announcing to all of the others in the hotel the checking-in of another. It felt like a greeting but it felt a bit foreboding. Alfred looked into the hotel and saw crisp wooden floors and dim lighting. It was set up much differently on the inside than the outside of the hotel. It appeared much more modern. The walls were still a plain white but the candles –there seemed to be a lack of electricity but Alfred kind of liked that touch making him feel as if he was in the fifties or something like that- added enough light to show the room. There was a reception desk across from the front door behind which a board of keys hung no doubt for the rooms. There were a couple of loveseats for people to sit on but the whole of the room was vacated of anyone. Alfred wondered where they were.

This could be Heaven or Hell. Alfred finally decided. But I'm only staying one night. I hope it's Heaven.

Something glittered in the man's eyes and he lit up a white candle in his candle holder. Alfred found it strange that he would have something like that. "Right this way, sir." The man said and led him over to the desk. He pulled out a pen. "Your name, sir?"

"Alfred F. Jones! And what's yours?" He leaned forward on the desk with a lightly flirtatious smile. He was rewarded with what might have been a darkening of the other man's cheek but the candlelight may have been playing tricks on him.

The man wrote down Alfred's name and grabbed a key to hand to him before picking up the candle again. "…Arthur Kirkland." He finally supplied. "Follow me to your room, please."

"But wait, Artie! Don't I need to pay first?" He started to dig into his pants pocket for his wallet but Arthur shook his head to stop him.

"It's 'Arthur' not 'Artie' and you do not have to pay until your stay here is done." There was a wistful feel in his tone that Alfred didn't understand. He found it a little strange as he followed Arthur. What would be the point of paying after the fact?

"Do a lot of people skip out on paying like that?" He asked conversationally just so he could keep talking to this hot British man.

"It hasn't happened once." Arthur gave him a dry look. "You're not going to be the first, are you?"

Alfred laughed. "Nope!"

"Oh." And with that that conversation ended.

As the two walked down the hallway and up the stairwell to the next floor Alfred could've sworn he heard voices all saying the same thing in wispy voices. "Welcome to the Hotel California. Such a lovely place…Such a lovely face. Plenty of room at the Hotel California. Any time of year, you can find it here." The voices echoed faintly and Alfred wondered if he had actually heard them. They seemed to come from everywhere. He thought he might have saw Arthur mouthing the words as well.

"Here is your room." Arthur stopped them in the dimly-lit corridor in front of a wooden door labeled '202'. Alfred looked at the other rooms and also at a couple of pictures hanging up. A large amount was paintings, but none of the clichéd ones often seen at hotels. They were completely original. Alfred was about to ask about them but was cut off as Arthur continued to speak. "We will be having a feast in a few hours." He stated. "We always hold a feast for new arrivals. There will be dancing in the courtyard before that, though, if you wish to partake. Any occupant at the Hotel California may join."

"Will you?" Alfred asked hopefully. Arthur blinked at him before a small smile appeared on his face.

"Perhaps it may be worth it. Feel free to interact with anybody. Room service, I'm afraid, is unavailable but a few workers here may wish to serve you if you are kind."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. The dancing will be in half an hour. Now I will leave you to yourself." Arthur turned then and walked down the corridor to go down the stairs, taking his candle with him. Alfred felt a slight chill but he was warmed in general because of his new place as he opened his room. He loved being in new places. The room he was in had a large white bed with black sheets. The ceiling, strangely, had mirrors and on the right side of the bed against the wall –for the bed was in the middle of the room- was a dark-wooded vanity and on the left side against the wall was a dresser. A large bathroom with a large Jacuzzi bathtub –although it was less modern as it was just a basin with working taps- was through a door. All-in-all Alfred was impressed. He hoped the pay wasn't too much.

Alfred unpacked and decided to rinse off in the tub, but not wash. He wanted to soak in some warm water after driving all day and just relax a bit and so he did. He wasn't all that tired anymore, though even after the dip in the tub so he glanced at a wall clock. It had been nearly a half hour. He decided to go check out the dancing.

Wearing a pair of comfortable jeans and a dark blue tee he went to explore the hallways. On the first floor he noticed a large dining room similar to something one would find in a mansion rather in a hotel. There were plenty of chairs lining the table but it wasn't set up. He thought he could smell food cooking and took a large breath before continuing on his way. He hadn't seen anyone here other than Arthur yet and he began to wonder exactly how many people were staying at this hotel. He assumed that whatever "party" was going on, not many people would be at it.

Alfred followed the sound of classical music and finally found what appeared to be the doors to the courtyard. Upon opening it he was rather surprised. A large circle of dusky red cobblestone made up the majority of the courtyard with strings of white lights and natural vines decorating the support beams of the patios overhangs. Concrete underneath of these overhangs supported and was littered with deck tables and chairs, all filled with people. A majority of the people danced but many were also sitting and talking. There were some drinks and food and laughter. Everyone seemed to know one another somehow.

Alfred marveled at the sight, feeling his spirit lift. He questioned exactly where the music came from –it sounded like there was an orchestra playing but there was none to be seen. He passed it off as speakers.

"Hey, a new face!" Alfred turned his head to see a brunette woman with long flowing hair with two orange flowers in it. She was dressed in a yellow-white gown –casual enough to be worn at everyday events but formal enough to be beautiful- and sat with a man dressed like a punk that was quite obviously albino. He grinned at Alfred upon seeing him and the woman smiled as well. Alfred immediately could see that they were nice and walked over to talk.

"Yup! I've checked in for the night! You two regulars?" Alfred asked, not taking a seat because he planned on continuing exploring but wanted to chat with these two.

"You could say that." The woman said. "I'm Elizabeta and this is-"

"My name's Gilbert the Awesome but for your sake you can call me Gilbert!" The albino man laughed and took Alfred's offered hand to shake it. Elizabeta scowled a little at him and Alfred shook her hand as well. Gilbert had a thick German accent that made his voice rough while Elizabeta had a softer accent that sounded more…Hungarian, Alfred guessed, or Austrian. He wasn't sure.

Alfred laughed. "I'm Alfred, nice to meet you two! You look like an odd couple!"

"We're not a couple." Elizabeta sniffed a little. Gilbert rolled his eyes and mouthed that they were but she didn't want to admit it. Alfred grinned.

"So you're just staying for the night?" He asked.

"Yeah, I'm traveling through going to San Fran!" Alfred nodded.

"Where's that?" Gilbert asked, confused. Elizabeta shot him a look and he immediately took it back. "Oh! That! Right. Ja, the awesome me totally knows that place!" Alfred blinked, confused, but blew it off. He looked around.

"Searching for someone?" Elizabeta asked, leaning forward excitedly. "Did you come here with a wife? Or maybe a husband?" Her eyes flashed mischievously.

Alfred turned a little pink under her scrutiny. "Haha, no. Not me. I'm single at the moment."

"But you have someone you like." She stated knowingly.

"I guess."

"Who?"

"Liz, leave him alone!" Gilbert waved off her questions. "The guy just got here. We probably don't know whoever it is anyway."

"I suppose that's true." Elizabeta calmed down and returned to her sister-like self. Alfred felt a little relieved. "But I hope he finds someone here. There are plenty of singles."

"Ja, ja, ignore this woman." Gilbert motioned to her. "She's obsessed with gay people. She'll somehow get you to fuck a guy whether or not you're straight." Elizabeta whacked him upside the head with a skillet that appeared out of nowhere. "OW! Verdammt, woman!" He glared at her, rubbing his head.

Alfred grinned. "She can get me laid? I guess I don't mind that."

"You are gay? Yay! I really know how to call them!" Elizabeta cheered.

"I'm bi but yeah. But I'm not into just fucks. I like relationships."

"I'll find you one." She promised.

"You just signed a death sentence." Gilbert said. Alfred laughed but the couple suddenly developed a strange grim appearance as if they just said something that crossed a line. Alfred hesitated, unnerved by this sudden change.

Elizabeta suddenly stood. "Gilbert, why don't we dance?" She suggested.

Gilbert stood as well. "Why?"

"I want to forget…" She trailed off.

"Alright. We'll talk to you later, Al." He patted Alfred on the shoulder before taking Elizabeta out into the courtyard to start twirling her. Alfred watched them for a moment before turning to go off to find someone else to talk to when he spotted a familiar blonde. He grinned and rushed over to him.

"Hello there, gorgeous!" Alfred said, leaning over Arthur's shoulder. The worker jumped in surprise and turned away from another man with wavy blonde hair to face him.

"Alfred! Bloody 'ell, don't do that! You scared the 'ell out of me!" Arthur scowled at him. Alfred's grin just widened. "And whot did you call me?"

"Gorgeous!" Alfred answered, unabashed. Arthur turned red and this time Alfred was sure it wasn't the lighting.

"Oh hon hon! Who iz zis, Arzer?" Alfred and Arthur turned to the other man, who was sporting a thick French accent –Wow, this place gets people from all over the world! Alfred thought- and smiling with a leer at them. He was dressed similarly to Arthur to show he was also a worker.

"It's none of your bloody business, Francis!" Arthur growled. Alfred could feel the tension between the two.

"Iz he perhaps a new occupant?" Francis continued anyway.

"Yeah! I checked in not too long ago! The name's Alfred!" He held his hand out and Francis shook it heartily.

"I zee. And already you are flirting with mon petit ami Arzer!"

"W-well…" Alfred rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"Francis, go the 'ell away!" Arthur shooed Francis.

"Ah well! I'll be around, Arzer~! Au revoir~" Francis waved and walked off. Arthur huffed and took a seat at an empty table. Alfred joined him.

"There're a couple interesting characters here!" He started.

"You 'ave no idea." Arthur said. "You 'aven't met everyone." Arthur sighed.

"You know everyone here?"

"Yes, of course. I'm practically the owner."

"And they're all just friends?" Alfred asked, trying to hide his hope.

Arthur raised an eyebrow with a small smile. He knew he was being flirted with and Alfred was glad he wasn't being scared off. "Yes, they're all just friends."

"They're rather pretty friends. The guys and girls." Alfred looked around and thought the people –or a majority of them- looked rather glitzy.

"They're just friends." Arthur repeated, looking out at the dancers as well.

"And you say you own the place? This whole place?" Alfred asked.

"Well, I live here." Arthur clarified. Alfred spotted the man's hand on the table and started to let his own hand slide forward a little bit at a time.

"So you're really big on money, huh?"

"Some have called me 'tiffany-twisted'." Alfred didn't know what that meant but he felt it was a rather out-dated saying. It seemed weird coming from the British man's mouth.

"That's funny." He said to cover up that he had no idea what Arthur had meant. He felt that the man knew anyhow. "Do you plan on dancing?"

"Are you asking me to dance, Mr. Jones?" Arthur teased.

"Maybe I am, Mr. Kirkland." He teased back. Arthur stood up and Alfred took it as a yes and so the two walked out onto the dance floor. He pulled Arthur close and they began to move together. Arthur seemed to end up leading them for the first few songs, though, because Alfred didn't know how to dance to this type of music. Eventually he caught on and began to add his own spin on things. All of the dancers seemed to move together as a mass of twirling.

Arthur laid his head on Alfred's shoulder. "You're making me remember so much, Alfred." He whispered.

"Yeah? Like what?" Alfred asked curiously.

"…I'm remembering that I own a Mercedes Benz." Arthur said it rather reflectively. Alfred gaped.

"That's yours? How can you forget something like that!"

Arthur shrugged, wrapping his arms around Alfred's neck. "I don't go out much." He said.

"Jeez, you need to." Alfred was shocked that someone could forget something like that.

"Mmm, yes if only." He closed his eyes and leaned against Alfred. Alfred pressed his forehead to Arthur's and spun him more. They absorbed the atmosphere around them, stopping their talking and melting in with everyone else. Arthur hummed softly to some of the songs, recognizing them. Alfred didn't know any of them but he paid attention. He loved listening to music of all varieties. The summer heat of the night caused a sweet sweat to form on their skins making them slick but pleasantly so. During this moment they didn't care.

Finally they became tired and they sat down again. Alfred didn't know for how long they danced, but he was wide awake again and he had to grab a napkin to wipe down his face. He was thirsty. He looked around. He spotted Francis and he assumed he was able to order him around a bit since he was a guest so he called him over.

"Please bring me some wine?" He asked.

Francis smiled. "We 'aven't 'ad zat spirit 'ere zince nineteen zixty-nine, Alfred. I'll bring you zomezing to drink, any'ow." He went off. Alfred blinked in confusion. What had he meant? He looked at Arthur, but Arthur didn't appear to be paying attention to the conversation.

"Alfred." Arthur turned to him with something glittering in his eyes. "Why don't we go back to your room to talk? It's rather loud here." Alfred wasn't sure what kind of invitation that was but he hoped to God it was what he thought it was. So he agreed. The two left the dance and traveled upstairs, their hands linking along the way. Alfred pulled out his key and unlocked his door, letting Arthur in first before entering himself and closing the door. He took off his shoes and put them off to the side and by the time he turned to the bed Arthur was lying on top of it pulling out a bottle of pink champagne from a bucket of ice and popping it open.

"How'd that get there?" He asked, crawling onto the bed next to Arthur. Arthur poured each of them half a glass and replaced the bottle before handing Alfred one of the glasses, taking a sip. He wasn't a large fan of champagne, being more of a beer person, but he still enjoyed it. It was sweet and sparkling. It tingled on his tongue. He liked it.

"Francis, probably. You asked for a drink, after all." The British man held up his glass and they clicked them together causing a crisp bell sound to ring.

Arthur noticed the guitar in the corner. "Do you play?" He motioned to it.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. It's the reason I'm heading through San Francisco to Hollywood. I'm a singer. I was going to record some songs and my brother Matt lives in San Fran." Alfred smiled at the mention of his younger twin brother.

"I see." Arthur looked a little sad but Alfred didn't get to question him. They both gulped down their glasses and Arthur moved to refill them when Alfred reached past him to stop him. They faced each other, Alfred's face close to Arthur's.

"Can I kiss you, Arthur?" He asked.

"Alfred, I don't do one-night stands." Arthur stated.

"Same here. But I plan on staying in Cali for a long time, and I really like you." He smiled.

"Hm. Alright." Arthur said. "You may kiss me."

Alfred did just that, pressing his lips to Arthur's passionately to state his intentions and hopes right away. Arthur responded to the pressure and kissed back with the same passion, wrapping his arms around Alfred's neck. Alfred opened their mouths and slid his tongue in where Arthur met him move for move. He moaned softly. Arthur swallowed it up eagerly, pulling Alfred down so that Alfred was below him and he lay on top of him, pushing into Alfred's mouth to taste everything.

Alfred pulled back for a breath and panted as Arthur pushed his shirt up. Alfred hurried to get off Arthur's vest, bow-tie, and shirt. Arthur finished before Alfred did easily and leaned down to suck on Alfred's neck, his hands running over Alfred's fit body to touch everything. Alfred shivered under him and finally started to yank the shirt apart. It hung off of Arthur's form and Alfred screwed trying to pull it off and ran his hands up Arthur's sides. His body was a pale peach color, contrasting his pale skin to Alfred's healthy tan. He grew up working in the sun, after all. Arthur was fit in a subtle way. Alfred couldn't feel any squishiness of fat but he couldn't see the muscles of Arthur all that much either. But he could feel the power.

He hummed. "You're really sexy, Arthur." He pulled the Brit's head to kiss him, flipping their positions. He then worked at the belt at Arthur's slacks, deepening their kiss together as Arthur moaned into his mouth, touching every exposed part on Alfred.

Arthur turned his head away giving Alfred the chance to taste the open expanse of neck and move down to the nipples, beginning to suck on one while playing with the other. Arthur gasped and arched. "You're not so bad either, Alfred." He panted, his eyelids lowered and his eyes dark with lust as Alfred pulled away to put their foreheads together. Arthur began to undo and pull down Alfred's pants as Alfred tugged down Arthur's. They got them off together and threw them and the underwear away.

They paused for just a moment to examine the body of their new lover. Alfred gulped as he saw Arthur's form fully before him. He was gorgeous. He didn't have a feminine figure, but he had enough of one that appealed to both the straight and gay side of Alfred. He loved it. Arthur was just his type. Arthur's eyes roamed Alfred's body, eating up the sight in front of him. His eyes landed on Alfred's erection and he smiled, pleased. His hand went down to stroke it.

Alfred groaned and arched into the hand, getting on his knees, his legs straddling Arthur's thighs. Arthur sat up a little and licked the head of it teasingly, tasting the precum. Alfred watched him, barely able to breathe as Arthur sucked on his head, his tongue swirling on it. "Fuck, Artie!" He pushed Arthur down and kissed him, aligning their bodies and moving against one another. Arthur's hands gripped his shoulders and ran up to his neck and then his ears. His thumbs stroked them as the kiss became more sensual and less needy. Something was happening between the two.

Alfred could tell as he pulled away from Arthur that what happened between the two of them right now would determine their relationship. He refused to make this a fuck. He was going to make love to Arthur. He didn't care if he wasn't sure he loved Arthur, but he would show Arthur his feelings through his body. Arthur could then interpret them. He got off of the bed and went over to his suitcases, pulling out a bottle of lotion. He thought about using a condom but couldn't find it in time and so he forgot about it.

Arthur watched his every movement, his legs spread and lounging sexually on the bed. Alfred stared at him, at the hickies already forming on that pale skin. Arthur smirked with a raised eyebrow. "Are you coming or what, love?" He crooned huskily.

Alfred bit back a moan at the tone and crawled on top of Arthur. "Not yet, but we'll come in a little while. I'll make sure of it." He grinned. Arthur slapped his cheek playfully.

"Stupid git." He murmured and pulled him down into a kiss. Alfred kissed him back and focused on it as he squirted some lotion onto his hand to coat his fingers. He then spread Arthur's legs a little and probed his entrance, slipping in two fingers at once. Arthur grunted uncomfortably and Alfred tried to distract him with his kiss as he thrusted the fingers in and out in search of his prostate. Arthur's arms wrapped around his neck needily and he cried out as his prostate was struck.

Alfred panted and added a third finger, thrusting them into Arthur and aiming for that spot. Arthur writhed beneath him, his arms dropping to grip the pillow, tears of ecstasy escaping his eyes. Alfred kissed them away. "Feel good?" He asked.

"Y-Yes…!" Arthur replied with difficulty and Alfred finally pulled away his fingers. Arthur groaned at the loss. "Damn, I was close." He said.

Alfred kissed him and Arthur snatched the bottle of lotion from his hands and decided to coat Alfred himself, jerking the man off. "Ah…!" Alfred thrusted into his hand, his eyes closed at the feel. "Yes, Arthur!" Fuck, Arthur was good at handjobs.

Arthur stopped after a moment, though, wiping his hand off on a tissue from the box on the bedside table. He hummed in appreciation and Alfred saw he was looking at the ceiling, smirking. Alfred looked up too and saw that there was a nice view of his ass. He smirked too and blushed as Arthur's hands wrapped around to close around the two globes that were his buttocks. "Lovely." He said against Alfred's lips, squeezing.

Alfred grinned. "Thanks, but it's not my ass I want to concentrate on right now." He rolled Arthur onto his back and lifted and spread his legs to wrap around his torso. Arthur complied happily and Alfred positioned himself at his entrance. "Ready?"

"Yes." Arthur stated and Alfred pushed into him. "AH!" He grunted in pain at being stretched but took it all as Alfred pushed in inch by inch until his shaft was fully encompassed by that tight heat. Alfred shuddered at the feeling. It had been way too long since he'd had sex and even longer since he had been with a man. He leaned forward and kissed Arthur.

"So good, Arthur. You're so tight and hot and fuck, I love this." He whispered against his neck, pulling out some and slowly pushing back in so as to not hurt his lover.

Arthur squeezed his muscles and caused the man above him to gasp. "Go faster." He commanded breathlessly. Alfred nodded and did so, speeding up his thrusts. "M-More!" Arthur called and Alfred obeyed, searching for his prostate. For a short time the only things that could be heard were their breaths forcing themselves in and out of the men's lungs in a desperate attempt for air and the wet slap of their skin as they rejoined each other again and again. And then finally Alfred found what he was searching for through the haze in his mind caused by sex. "ALFRED!" Arthur screamed out and arched up, already close to the edge and ever the closer now that his prostate was being struck repeatedly.

"Oh god yes, Arthur!" Alfred cried out, wrapping his arms around Arthur's back and hugging him close. Arthur did the same, biting his lip and trembling with pleasure at each thrust as wave upon wave coursed through and finally broke the dam. Arthur cried out Alfred's name again as he climaxed, his body thrusting sporadically against Alfred's abdomen as Alfred pushed him down onto his cock. But the stimulation of hearing his name being called by Arthur, the scent of their love-making, and the feel of everything that was so completely Arthur threw him over the edge as well and he came screaming Arthur's name into his lover, his thrusts to milk himself slow and hard.

After a moment when they had both finally came to their natural ends Alfred lifted his head and kissed Arthur gently. Arthur whimpered against the kiss. "Bloody…goddammit Alfred, that was…that was amazing." Arthur gasped as Alfred pulled out of him and rolled off of his lover to lie down next to him, gazing at their reflections in the mirror. Alfred saw that his hair was messed up in a way that just screamed that he had just had sex. His glasses at some point he had removed without even realizing it, but they were on the ground on top of his shirt. Arthur sat up to take off his shirt and placed it on the floor.

Alfred rolled onto his side and wrapped his arm around Arthur's waist and tugged their bodies together. Arthur rolled onto his side and the two gazed at each other, beautiful blue sky meeting lovely green earth. Alfred smiled his exhaustion from earlier overcoming him now. His body was liquefied and relaxed after his beautiful sex. He pecked Arthur's lips. "I loved it too. I think I'm gonna go to sleep now, though." He bit back a yawn so he wouldn't yawn in Arthur's face.

"Hm, well dinner will be done within the hour, love." Arthur warned him.

"Do you have to go back to the desk?" Alfred asked sleepily.

"No. Not yet." He kissed Alfred's nose. "I'll wake you before dinner."

"Mm, thanks Artie." With that, Alfred drifted off to sleep.

Alfred was having a wonderful dream all until some voices started to invade his dreams. He tried to push them away but they were persistent and finally Alfred snapped awake and saw that it was dark in his room. He could tell there was a candle lit in his room, giving off a creepy yet soothing glow. His mind focused on the voices calling to him again. They were the same as earlier. "Welcome to the Hotel California. Such a lovely place…such a lovely face…" But the lyrics were a bit different this time and he recognized a more solid voice singing with them.

He turned his head and saw Arthur, standing by the candle and wearing his work clothes. He was singing but there were tears rolling down his cheeks. "Living it up at the Hotel California…What a nice surprise…bring your alibis~"

"Artie?" He called and sat up. Arthur froze and the singing stopped. He stood up and walked over to Arthur to wrap his arms around his waist and kiss his cheek. "What's wrong?"

"I hate this place." Arthur whispered, touching Alfred's hands as his tears flowed a little more.

"Why?" Alfred asked, surprised.

"Because while this device –this place- is ours, we are really all just prisoners here." He sobbed once. Alfred didn't understand but he held onto him as comfort. Arthur sniffled and finally dried his tears. "Come now, love. It's supper time. Get your clothes." He said, wiping his face off.

"Will you be alright?" Alfred asked, worried for his lover.

"Yes. I'm fine. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Alfred." He kissed his lips chastely and then moved to the bathroom to wash his face. Alfred felt a sense of foreboding. He felt like there was something he wasn't being told –something big. It scared him. He cleaned himself up and dressed up and brushed his hair to make himself appear tidier before he and Arthur left.

In the dining room, Alfred looked around. It looked like all of the guests were there. Arthur took Alfred's hand. "This is the Master's chamber." He told him. "My bedroom is right through that door." He pointed to a door on the other side of the table.

"Wow, that's cool, Artie! This giant place, huh?"

"Yes, because I was the first here." Arthur released his hand and Alfred sat down next to the head of the table that Arthur was sitting at. Everyone, for whatever reason, didn't look happy. They appeared almost upset but withdrawn like they had accepted their fate. "Let's dig in." Arthur whispered and everyone moved at once, spooning out food and passing plates. Alfred happily joined in but he couldn't bring himself to laugh or talk because nobody else did. It felt like a funeral dinner.

Finally came the giant roasted turkey in the middle. Alfred's mouth watered at the mere sight of it and the smell of it was intoxicating. But some of the people started to cry and Alfred turned his head as he heard a few clatters. Someone had dropped their utensils. And then another person did. The man across the table from Alfred was a small man with rusty brown hair. A wayward curl stuck out of his head. He reached to pick something up but it fell out of his hand again. He gave a cry and started to sob. Alfred was alarmed. What was wrong with him? The tall blonde –obviously German- man next to him helped him, spooning out the food instead.

Alfred's fear spiked as a few people leaned across the table for the turkey and he watched as they tried to stab it, but their knives went right through. Alfred's breathing quickened and more sobs were heard. He saw Gilbert holding Elizabeta as the woman cried. The German man was kissing the other crying man's head. Everyone looked distressed. Alfred gasped as he saw a hand go through with the knife into the turkey and he stood up in horror, his chair flying onto its back.

"What the fuck is going on!" He yelled and everyone paused to look at him. Nobody's face changed. He looked to Arthur but Arthur couldn't look at him.

"I'm so so sorry, Alfred." He whispered. He reached forward to pick up a knife but his hand went through. Suddenly Alfred understood. He understood everything. The out-dated lines. The fact that Gilbert didn't know what San Francisco was. How old the hotel was. All of it.

Alfred felt sick. He couldn't breathe. He had to leave. He had to get out of here. He needed to get into his car and just speed off. He may come back in the morning for his stuff –ghosts don't exist during the day, he told himself- but he never wanted to see this place ever again. He turned and he ran out of that room, heading back to the front of the hotel. He didn't care that he didn't have any shoes. He was terrified. He was hyperventilating. He needed to leave. He needed to leave. He needed to get away from there. He had to get back to where he was before. He needed to go back to his life before any of this happened.

He slammed into someone and fell on his ass right as he got near the door. A hand reached out but Alfred didn't grab it, instead looking up at the man. He was a petite Japanese man who smiled at him kindly, if a little sadly. "Relax." He told him. "We are programmed to receive. Please do not be afraid. We want your stay to be comfortable here at the Hotel California." Alfred screamed and scrambled to his feet again, making a mad dash out of the door. As he ran past the tree line separating him and the parking lot, however, he was suddenly turned around and facing the hotel. He froze and turned again to run but ended up running towards the hotel again.

His heart was dying in his chest. He couldn't even tell if it was beating. It felt like a constant thrum. He was going to have a heart attack. He was panicked. He couldn't get to his car. He suddenly ran back inside of the hotel and saw Arthur standing behind the counter, a candle next to him. He looked at Alfred morosely. "I WANNA CHECK OUT!" Alfred screamed, unable to think of anything else. It was the only thing he could think of.

"Of course." Arthur whispered and then he wrote something on the paper. "But Alfred-" Alfred threw his room key at him and ran back out of the door before he could hear Arthur finish. But the same thing occurred again and he found himself somehow turned around no matter how many times he ran towards his car. It was right there but he couldn't get to it.

He walked back into the hotel slowly and looked up at Arthur hopelessly. "What is happening?" He whispered desperately.

Tears rolled down Arthur's cheeks. "You may check out anytime you like, Alfred, but you can never leave. None of us can." Alfred fell to his knees and wailed.

Three weeks passed. Alfred was sitting in the front room of the hotel gazing out of the window from one of the loveseats, his legs stretched out on it. His face held no expression as he looked at his car. It had been sitting there, completely untouched. He couldn't get to it. All of the other cars out there were –now that he paid attention to them- from various eras. They each had their own wear from the weather over the months…years…decades…centuries. Alfred didn't know what to feel anymore.

"Alfred." The man turned away from the window to see his lover Arthur. "May I sit?" He asked carefully.

"Yeah." He patted his lap. Arthur flushed.

"I'm not sitting on your lap." He huffed.

Alfred felt his lips twitch. Arthur looked a little relieved to see it. Alfred had been depressed. It always happened to the newcomers. They had to come to terms with their new lives. Sometimes it took a long time. Alfred wasn't the same, though. He was so sad or blank. Alfred knew Arthur just wanted him to smile and laugh again. And maybe he would someday soon.

"Come on, baby. I won't bite you." He patted his lap again. Arthur scowled but it appeared his want to be with Alfred overcame his embarrassment. After all, nobody was around at the moment. Most of the time everyone slept the day away and stayed up all night. The nights were better. It made them seem more real. After all, they were always just a bit too see-through in the daylight.

Arthur sat down in Alfred's lap and leaned against him, kissing his jaw. "What's the matter, love?"

"…I'm thinking of Mattie again." He admitted.

Arthur hid his pitying gaze. He knew it made Alfred feel worse. After all, Arthur arrived here at the hotel in the early nineteenth century. He had no more relatives or family that he knew of. He couldn't empathize so instead he kissed Alfred again. This time Alfred kissed back. In the end the two ended up tangled together, writhing in each others' grasps. There was more than one angry shout of being woken up from some of the other occupants but neither cared.

Afterwards they lay panting on top of each other in just soiled underwear trying to get their breaths back. Alfred spoke first. "Why didn't you tell me, Arthur? In the beginning, why didn't you warn me?" He whispered.

Arthur closed his eyes. "I'm so sorry, love. I couldn't. It doesn't allow us to. Once you're checked in…you're checked in for good. None of us could tell you no matter how much we wanted to." Alfred buried his face into Arthur's hair and cried.

"Alfred!" Feliciano, the crying Italian from Alfred's first night at the hotel, bounced up to him while they were all gathered –or at least a majority of them and all of which were his friends- one night, "Can you play a song for us? You're a singer, right?"

Alfred was a little surprised. He guessed that news traveled fast. "Um…well, yeah, but…"

"Come on!" Gilbert pushed. "Let us!" The others all agreed. Arthur took a seat next to Alfred, bringing up a chair.

"Come now, Alfred. We'd love to hear it." Arthur coaxed. Alfred finally sighed.

"I don't have anything planned, though. Or any accompaniment." He protested.

"The hotel will provide that part." Kiku, the Japanese man, said. "It has powers."

Alfred was creeped out but with a sigh he started strumming a tune. Before he knew it a bass guitar had joined in, accentuating his music. He faintly heard another guitar playing something else to go with it. Alfred realized he had a whole band. He needed to make up words now. So he played the first thing that came to mind.

"On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair. Warm smell of colitas rising up through the air." He sang, closing his eyes to remember it all. "Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light. My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim. I had to stop for the night."

Alfred looked to Arthur with a sad smile. "As he stood in the doorway, I heard the mission bell. And I was thinking to myself 'This could be Heaven, or this could be Hell'." Arthur blinked as he realized he was being sung about and the others all understood what Alfred was singing of as well. "So he lit up the candle, and he showed me the way. There were voices down the corridor…thought I heard them say: 'Welcome to the Hotel California. Such a lovely place," the others chorused him sadly and perfectly, "Such a lovely place." "Such a lovely face. Plenty of room at the Hotel California. Any time of year ("Any time of year," they chorused, including Arthur) you can find it here!'"

"His mind is tiffany-twisted~" Alfred grinned a little at Arthur and there were a few chuckles. Arthur snorted, rolling his eyes. "He's got the Mercedes Benz" Alfred grunted, still jealous of that fact even if they'd never drive it again. "He's got a lot of pretty, pretty boys, that he calls friends. How they dance in the courtyard, Sweeeet summer sweat." Alfred sighed lightly. "Some dance to remember, some dance to forget~" Elizabeta and Gilbert looked at each other and Arthur placed a hand on Alfred's thigh.

"So I called up the captain. 'Ple~ase bring me my wine,', and he said, 'We haven't had that spirit here since nineteen sixty-five.'" He glanced at Francis. "And still those voices are calling from fa~r away. Wake you up in the middle of the night just to hear them say: 'Welcome to the Hotel California. Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place), such a lovely face." Alfred closed his eyes. He understood now Arthur's pain as he sang the next part. It was so terribly cruel. "Living it up at the Hotel California. What a nice surprise (What a nice surprise), bring your alibis~"

Alfred took a breath. His throat was becoming thick. It was painful. "Mirrors on the ceiling…and pink champagne on ice and he said, 'We are all just prisoners here of our own device.'" Arthur mouthed the words with Alfred. Alfred felt tears threatening his eyes. The others didn't look happy anymore. The song, like Alfred's night on the first night of his new life, had taken a turn for the worse. Nonetheless they listened to Alfred's story. "In the Master's chamber, they gather for the feast. They stab it with their steely knives, but they just can't kill the beast!" Alfred was crying now, letting his pain slip into his song.

"Last thing I remember, I was running for the door. I had to find the passage back to the place I was before." The accompaniment picked up as he neared the end, an electric guitar slowly building. "'Relax,' said the nightman, 'we are programmed to receive.'" Alfred took a breath. He could hear the quiet sobs. He understood that everyone else here –in exception to maybe Arthur- had similar experiences that they were remembering because of this song. "'You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave!'"

Alfred dropped his guitar –but the strap kept it from falling- and he cried quietly into his hands. He couldn't play anymore. But still the music finished for him and eventually faded.

It was another week later and Alfred was up in his room strumming on his guitar during high noon –he still hadn't gotten accustomed to sleeping all day. He was human (he thought), not a vampire- when he heard a lot of cars pull into the hotel parking lot. His heart jumped and he ran over to his window to look. To his shock they were all police cars.

He dashed downstairs to where Arthur was already waiting, shocked as well. "What's happening?" Alfred asked.

"I haven't a clue! This has never happened before!" Arthur looked at Alfred and Alfred looked back. They both had the same look in their eyes. As long as the police didn't check-in, then they would be able to leave. Maybe the others could too.

But when the police came in, they looked around as if they saw nobody. "Welcome." Arthur greeted, but it went unheard. The police didn't see them. They were invisible. Why wouldn't they be? They were ghosts, after all. Their hopes died before they could really be born and the police spread out.

"That's definitely the missing person's car!" One said. "Alfred F. Jones. Search for clues!" Alfred's heart jumped but it was futile, he knew. They wouldn't find him. He just hoped they didn't take his guitar. Or any of his stuff.

One police officer came in. He looked similar to Arthur in the sense that he had large eyebrows but his hair and eyes were a closer color to Alfred's. The man was young and looked to be fresh out of the academy. But his eyes landed on Alfred and Arthur and he ran over to them. Alfred's breath hitched. "Y-You can see us!" He said.

The police officer looked confused. "Of course I can! You're Alfred! Where have you been? Your brother's been looking for you! You've been filed a missing person!"

Alfred's breathing picked up. Oh Matt, his amazing little brother. Of course he was filed as a missing person. But he could never leave. "Please." He begged and handed the police officer a cassette he'd kept in his pocket. "Please, give this to Matt. Give this to my brother. T-Tell him I love him and I'm sorry I never got to see him again. Please, tell him that I'm dead." On the cassette was the song he had sung for everyone a week previously. He had recorded it.

The officer took the cassette, confused. "But you're not!"

Alfred bit back a sob. "Please. I can't leave. I just can't. Please, Peter." He looked at his nametag.

Peter still looked baffled. "Alright." He said.

"Peter! What are you doing? You searching for clues? Who're you talking to?" The lead officer came up to him. Peter looked back and forth between Alfred and Arthur and the officer and suddenly he understood. He looked at Alfred with shock and sympathy. Alfred sobbed once and quickly wrote out a note to his brother. Before Peter could leave he handed it to him. Peter promised that he would give it to Matthew.

The police left without finding anything but Alfred's car. Alfred F. Jones was presumed dead after three months.

Epilogue

Three months later the song Hotel California made it big. It was a popular song despite it being out there from all of the popular music. It was submitted by Matthew Williams who said it was his older brother Alfred F. Jones's final song and he wanted to put it on the radio.

"It was his story." Matthew had said. The song had made it big with its haunting music and storyline. People went to search for this famous 'Hotel California' but nobody had been able to find it. It was acclaimed as the 'ghost hotel' because when the police went back to search for the hotel where they had found Alfred's car, it was gone. Without a trace.

The police officer who had originally called it in was questioned. "I don't know how I found it." The officer said. "I just recall it was very late into the night and nearing the end of my shift. I was exhausted and only wanted to get back to my house. That's when I saw the car and the hotel."

A young woman –not quite an adult yet- sat at her computer as she listened to the song. She closed her eyes and imagined Alfred's story in her head. What could've happened while Alfred was there? Why couldn't he leave? It intrigued her.

"I'm gonna write his story." She decided and restarted the music before beginning to type.

A/N: Yay! Done! I really wanted to write this and I'm glad I did! I'm really proud of it! I'll go back tomorrow and reread it for spelling errors and grammatical errors I missed.

REVIEW. I really want feedback on this.

(And yes, this is a sort-of song-fic of 'Hotel California'. Duh.)

With love,

Tsuki