I don't own Hetalia.
Pairing: USUK.
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The meeting was in full swing, and 'full swing' obviously meant chaos. Everyone was arguing, mind perhaps those like Japan- Kiku Honda- who preferred to stay out of disputes. That is except two certain nations, the ones who'd usually be taking part in the largest arguments in the room, America- or Alfred F. Jones, the F. being essential- and England- Arthur Kirkland. America was busy staring at England, who was busy staring his piece of paper, gradually inching closer to it, nose practically brushing the sheet.
"What the bloody Hell did I just write?" England whispered, barely heard by America over the raucous that was the meeting- even Germany, Ludwig Beilschmidt(?), was taking part and not calming down the place so you knew it was bad.
America got up and walked over to help England decipher whatever he had written, but when he got there he found the the Brit's handwriting was perfect and not at all scribbled.
"What do you mean, dude? Your handwriting is, like, totally perfect!" Alfred exclaimed, resting a hand on England's shoulder.
England narrowed his eyes at the paper a bit longer before giving up. He didn't understand why he had written in Chinese characters, and more importantly, how America could read them.
"What do you mean, America? That one looks like a goldfish." He replied, pointing to a place on the page where no ink was even present.
America raised one of his eyebrows, but decided not the judge or question the irritable Englishman, "Whatever dude." He muttered, shrugging and walking away.
During this conversation the other fighting countries had settled down a bit. As everyone sat down, some muttering, some still arguing while others sat in complete silence with either a pout of a triumphant face on- namely France and Switzerland. As the meeting carried on America paid more attention to England. The man looked confused, he suddenly had the look of remembrance on his face. America wondered why until-
"Ah, that's it! I forgot to feed Flying Mint Bunny," England began to gather his items as he yelled this, causing many countries to turn their heads in a questioning and curious manner.
Suddenly, England stood up and sprinted out of the room, everyone stared at the door looking confused, before a loud crash was heard along with an angry sounding 'Fuck!'.
America got up, sighing, when he realised no-one else was going to help England. As he walked out the room he heard confused murmurs from his friends. He stopped in the doorway, startled by the scene that stood before him. In his daze, England had dropped all of his papers and ran into a filing cabinet. He was now lying in the middle of scattered, crinkled sheets with a confused look on his face- while holding his head which he had seemingly rammed into the upturned filing cabinet. His suit jacket was halfway up his torso and his hair was messier than usual. America sighed and went over to him. England looked up, confused,
"Alfred? I appear to have lost the battle against The Filing Cabinet Kingdom." England said matter-of-factly.
Alfred just picked Arthur up, bridal style, and walked down the hallway to the exit, unaware of Kiku peeking his head out of the door with his camera and an oncoming nosebleed from Witnessing one of his OTPs.
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Alfred sat Arthur down on his doorstep.
"How the heck am I going to get inside?" He muttered, scratching the back of his head. Alfred doubted Arthur would be of much help, considering he was banging on the postbox asking to be let in. He hadn't noticed it before, but he realised Arthur was sweating, Arthur must be sick. How he didn't realise before is a mystery- even to the author.
Alfred came up with the conclusion that there must be a spare key somewhere. Sure enough, two minutes later he found a key in his porch light. He hadn't meant to. Alfred had just got so impatient that he ended up smashing it and finding the key by chance.
"Who the hell puts their key in a porch light?" Alfred mumbled, unlocking the door before going back to fetch his sick friend. Picking Arthur up again, Alfred nearly fell over multiple things, including newspapers, various books and a few random teabags that Arthur had obviously scattered about in his sick scramble to get to the meeting this morning, as he walked through the front door.
Alfred picked his way over the living room and up the stairs, not noticing the Brit had snuggled up into his chest and was sleeping softly until he had found his bedroom. A bright red dusted Alfred's cheeks as he realised this.
Just as Alfred was laying Arthur down on his king size bed to sleep off his illness, the Englishman awoke. Alfred turned to leave until his bomber jacket's sleeve was clutched by a hand. Alfred turned to see Arthur's bright green eyes looking directly into his sky-blue ones.
"Alfred, stay and cuddle me, please?" Arthur said, tugging his sleeve to brin him closer to the bed.
Alfred sighed but took of his jacket and got under the covers with him, Arthur immediately snuggled up close to him, causing the other to blush like crazy.
Alfred lay there awkwardly as Arthur wrapped his arms around him. Soon enough, light breathing could be heard from him. The American couldn't help but force his breathing to match the smaller's. Alfred's eyes became heavy with exhaustion as he replayed the day's events. Eventually falling asleep, said boy couldn't help but hug Arthur back unconsciously.
Arthur smiled in his sleep.
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Arthur woke up in the middle of the night to a creaking door, he looked over at Alfred only to realise he wasn't there.
Once again, Alfred had left him in a weak moment.
Arthur couldn't help but let tears slip out, everyone he loved abandoned him.
Alfred walked through the door, yawning, although as soon as he saw Arthur crying he ran over to the man and pulled him into a tight, but gentle, hug. Arthur stiffened as he was pulled into said hug, but wiped his eyes and reduced his sobbing to sniffling.
"Arthur why are you crying?" Alfred asked softly, rubbing Arthur's back in a comforting way.
"I-I th-thought you had l-left me," Arthur said inbetween small hiccups, "You've done it before, and s-so h-ave many other countries." He carried on.
Alfred frowned. He had just wanted to show Arthur he was mature enough.
He tilted his head towards him, and pulled Arthur into a soft kiss, one that meant if Arthur wanted to he could pull away and they'd act like it never happened, one that showed Alfred hadn't meant to hurt him. This kiss signified regret and so many other emotions.
Arthur didn't pull away.
He smiled into the kiss. In fact, he kissed Alfred back.
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Arthur awoke the next morning feeling enlightened. He looked over at Alfred and smiled.
"Damn, I'm a bloody well good actor, I should look into it as a part time hobby or job." He murmured to himself.
A sudden white light from the window caused Alfred to wake up. Arthur looked to the window to see a white suit turning and running in the opposite direction.
Japan's POV
"Damn it, the frash was on, at reast it wasn't last night though,". I whispered running far away with camera in hand.
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First one-shot ever, sorry if it sucked or was too long, but I hope you carry on reading.
Good afternoon.
Started: Around 7 yesterday.
Finsished: Wednesday, 19/07/2017, 19:18
Words: 1250.