Prince of Pride (Hetalia USUK)

By Kaelri

4.4K 175 72

Prince Alfred Jones is 18 years old, which his father deems is old enough to marry. When Alfred finds out abo... More

Chapter One - Arranged Marriage
Chapter Two - Help Me Out
Chapter Three - About as Straight as a Bendy Straw
Chapter Four - Is this a Date?
Chapter Five - Sunsets
Chapter Six - I think your Brother ships us
Chapter Seven - I'm Getting Mixed Signals
Chapter Eight - Agonized British Screaming
Chapter Ten - Awkward Conversations
Chapter Eleven - Beach Date
Chapter Twelve - Can I ask you a Question?
Chapter Thirteen - Dreaming
Chapter Fourteen - Preparation
Chapter Fifteen - Marriage
Chapter Sixteen - A Happily Ever After

Chapter Nine - Panicked

232 11 3
By Kaelri

Arthur's leg had finally healed, enabling him to finally be able to walk around freely again. His left leg was somewhat scarred, but Alfred deemed them 'battle scars' and that they were cool. Arthur rolled his eyes at this comment.

Alfred's emotions seemed to change like the weather nowadays, and at one point Arthur asked politely if he was on his period, in which Alfred replied "Yes, please go get me some fucking chocolate."
They didn't have chocolate, but they did have chocolate ice cream so that worked.

The King and Queen had returned with a girl, just as Alfred had predicted, yet did not introduce her as a suitor or anything of the sort. Her name was Erica Vogel, a cute 16 year old girl with blonde hair in a bob cut and bright sea green eyes. She was rather short in Alfred's opinion, he estimated she was about 5'2, while Alfred himself stood at around 5'9.
She had a bright smile, and Mattie seemed to like her, at least he liked her enough to let her play Mario Kart with him.

"Don't you think they'll be perfect for each other?" Alfred's mother whispered in his ear.
"Maybe." Was all Alfred said. He didn't care what his parents did anymore. It seemed all they wanted to do was play matchmaker with their sons. Fuck them. They don't even care about their own fucking kingdom. They don't care about their kids. I'd be surprised if they even cared about each other.
Alfred's head hurt.

He felt drunk almost, or as if someone had taken a bottle and smashed it over his head. The stumbled over to the cabinet to get some Tylenol, and in his blurry vision, nearly broke off the handle. He grabbed the pills, and relieved his head, even though it still pounded. He felt like he was hallucinating. Quickly, while his mother wasn't looking, he raced upstairs to his room and closed the door. His breathing had become bad and he was panting heavily.

"Alfred? Are you okay?" Arthur's voice rang out in the room, but Alfred couldn't hear him.

Red blurred at the sides of his vision, as if he was dying slowly. He wanted to scream yet no noise came out of his throat. He desperately panted, trying to catch his breath. Arthur ran to his side, trying to snap him out of it. "Alfred! What's happening? You need to breathe! Alfred! Al! Should I call a doctor?"
Alfred wanted to pass out. He wanted it all to be over. Arthur grabbed his wrist, and that worsened things. The scars. The want to end everything. The want for all of this shit to be over, Alfred couldn't take it, and at long last, passed out.

~~~~~Timeskip~~~~~

Emma and Lars, the doctors who had both moved from the Netherlands, had taken Alfred in and shoved Arthur out quickly. After only a few minutes, they had managed to wake Alfred up and calm him down a small amount.

"He has sporadic panic attacks." Emma told Arthur. "Thank god you were there. I know he doesn't want anyone to know, but you need to know."

She let Arthur in the room, where Alfred sat on a hospital bed with his head in his hands. Arthur wasn't sure if he was crying or not. The kid was an emotional mess.
"Al? Are you feeling any better?" Arthur asked gently.
"Yeah. A lot better now." He sighed. "Don't tell my parents about this."
"I won't if you don't want me to, okay? I'm here now."
"Thanks."

~~~~~Timeskip~~~~~

It was nearly two weeks after Alfred's panic attack and Emma had given Arthur the task of keeping a close eye on Alfred, without making it obvious that he was keeping a close eye on Alfred. It wasn't all that hard, considering the fact that they lived in the same place, shared the same room, and did nearly everything together, which Arthur didn't mind.

Alfred showed no apparent signs by the end of the second week, and Emma said he should be okay as long as nothing triggers him.

Alfred and Arthur sat on Alfred's bed, playing Skyrim together. Arthur had no idea what the hell he was doing and died repeatedly, while Alfred struggled to keep him alive for more than a few minutes.
Eventually, Arthur gave up and moved his attention to Alfred.

"I've always wondered what this is..." Arthur wondered out loud as he reached out and brushed Alfred's cowlick of hair with his fingers. Alfred jerked his head back as if he'd been offended.
"Don't touch that."
"Now you've got me curious. What does it do?"
Arthur gently grabbed the ahoge and pulled it, causing Alfred to make a sound that started as a moan but turned into a whimper.
"Arthur, don't do this. You don't want to find out what that does."
"Then what does it do?"

Alfred didn't say anything, just leaned over Arthur, causing him to fall back on the bed. Alfred held himself over Arthur, kissing him passionately. He stared into Arthur's green eyes, confidence and lust filled his dark blue ones.
"That's what it does. I don't suppose you want to keep pulling it, do you?"
Arthur gulped nervously. He was vaguely aware of one of Alfred's legs in between his, their bodies a tangled mess on the bed. Alfred's hair was wild and his eyes were filled with untamed emotions. Arthur could feel his heart pounding out of his chest, as he pulled Alfred's ahoge another time.

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