Hetalia - Axis Powers 1. Chapter 1

**New fic! Yaaaay. Inspired by a random facebook post.**

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**Part 1: The First Meeting**

For the hundredth time, Arthur sighed tiredly. It had been half an hour since he took shelter under a bus shed after being fairly drenched when a sudden heavy downpour came to pester most of the people. The weatherman promised sunshine and blue skies. Not the dull, grey clouds that almost nobody appreciated. The forecast from that morning got his hopes up in going through the whole day without any problem. He had a lot of unchecked essays to finish and he wanted to be done with everything before the day ended. But obviously, based on the unfortunate situation he was in, Arthur was not going to make it to his class on time.

As much as he wanted to just run and mindlessly get drenched, he wouldn't risk it. He had his students' papers inside his satchel and he could not afford to have them soaked after all the hard work that his class went through just to finish them. So he really did not have a choice but to bear with the irritation welling up inside him. Besides, it wasn't even half of the day yet he already was dealing with bad luck! He fell out of bed when he woke up because his legs were tangled in the sheets. The heater of his shower refused to work and he had to deal with ice cold water. His tea spilled, his self made scones were charcoal black, he hit his toe on the edge of the sofa, he forgot his umbrella, and now he was wet with his clothes wrinkled and he was late. Could anything else be worse than that?

When an equally soaked American suddenly appeared out of nowhere and gave him a thumbs-up despite how awful he looked, Arthur knew it was definitely going to be one of the worst days of his life.

He could feel the stranger's blue eyes stare at him from head to toe, and it took all of Arthur's will not to return the staring with his own murderous glare. Sighing, he crossed his arms over his chest and tried to suppress the shudders that crept over his body. He felt so cold, but not a single piece of clothing was saved from the big troublesome drops of rain that hit him. The last thing he needed was a very friendly human being who cannot keep his mouth shut for more than a minute.

"Hey. Are you okay?" Arthur turned his head a little just to express at least the tiniest acknowledgement of the man's presence. He nodded his head politely but he did not bother to smile.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" The stranger— obviously American from the way he spoke— looked at him worriedly before extending a hand towards him. "Oh uh, I'm Alfred by the way. Alfred Jones."

It took a few seconds for Arthur to stretch his own arm and reach for the handshake. As much as he wanted to glare daggers at the hand offered and tell this _Alfred Jones _to go look for another shed, he did not want to tarnish the gentleman figure he was trying very hard to keep.

"Arthur." He took the hand, gave it a firm shake before immediately folding his arms again in a futile attempt on keeping himself warm. "And yes I am sure I'm fine. Thank you."

After the simple introduction, Arthur's scowl returned on his face as he looked away. The rain showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. He could not even see the surroundings clearly because of the heavy pouring of water. At that point, the worst things that could happen were miss work, receive an overload of unchecked articles, and his salary deducted due to his absence.

"Are you really okay?"

He turned his head to face Alfred. His brows furrowed in question, not seeing why the other blond was interested in knowing. At first he simply stared back without any intention of answering. But Alfred was genuinely looking at him with concern. Ignoring the bespectacled man seemed rude. Well actually he planned on being rude in the first place since he was not in the mood but he found it surprisingly difficult now.

"What do you think?"

"Well, no?"

"And there's your answer." Wanting to end the conversation, he looked away. Then he closed his eyes to shut himself from the stressful world even for a minute. His head was hurting as the time he spent inside with the stranger stretched. But it seemed that Alfred Jones was not letting him off that easily.

"Why? What happened?"

God. Was it not bloody obvious? He bit his lip to prevent himself from snapping at his unwanted company.

"It rained." He answered, opening his eyes a little to look at Alfred. "Can't you tell?"

"So you hate the rain?"

"No."

"Oh. I don't get it then."

"You don't have to."

When Alfred did not say anything after, he took it as finally the end of their pointless talk. Apparently, the taller man still was not contented with the very small exchange of words much to his dismay.

"Bad morning?"

"Bad everything. And if you do not keep quiet now, I will add you to my list of bad things." He snapped but Alfred only grinned.

"I'm not a thing though."

"That can be arranged."

Alfred pouted, swinging his drenched jacket over his shoulder with a sigh while Arthur found his lips curling up for the first time that day. Though he fought against it, careful not to get noticed by the other.

"It's the worst day of my life." He murmured. Not really expecting the American to hear him though he really did not mind if the other did.

"So far." Alfred corrected, with a finger dancing in front of his disapproving face. "The worst day of your life- so far."

"That is not really motivating." He rolled his eyes.

"You know," The bespectacled blond smiled. "if unexpected things happen, I just say PLOT TWIST! Then move on. You should do that too."

"That's idiotic."

"It's not." Alfred looked at him innocently. "Seriously, you should try it. Works for me." When Arthur sent him an unconvinced stare, he tried to think of something more just for the Brit to agree to his point. "Okay. For example, PLOT TWIST! Hi I'm Alfred F. Jones and I'm going to be your new friend."

Arthur pondered for a moment and that momentary thinking got Alfred hoping that somehow he was able to convince him.

"Let me try. Plot twist! Hi I'm Arthur and I don't want to be your bleeding friend." He replied smugly.

"Plot twist! Yes you do."

"Plot twist! No I don't. Give up, Jones."

"Woah. Ouch."

Alfred acted hurt with his fingers clenched above his heart and his eyebrows furrowed while Arthur only laughed beside him. Not a sign of guilt could be seen from his now twinkling eyes. Unknowingly, he felt relaxed and better than earlier before.

When finally averted his eyes from the other, he noticed that the rain already died down into light and harmless drops. He could already see the world clearly. There were only a few people yet who decided to venture out from their hiding places and proceed back to their own businesses. He should probably go now too. The drizzle was weak enough for him to even feel.

"You're going now?" Alfred asked.

"Yes. I still have to finish some things."

"I see." The bespectacled blond bit his lip, adjusting his glasses while he looked at his watch to check the time.

With the best of his abilities, he tried to straighten the small wrinkles on his white, long sleeved polo. His hair was damp and dishevelled but he decided to leave it be, seeing that any attempt in taming it would be hopeless by now.

"I need to go now. Goodbye."

"Huh? Wait!"

It surprised him when a hand firmly held his wrist and pulled him back before he could even turn around completely. Alfred's strength had their bodies pressed together which caught both blonds off guard. Even so, neither moved from their positions.

"What is it?" Arthur tried his best to look annoyed and unbothered yet he could not even stare at the other blond's blue eyes without getting flustered. The sudden closeness gave him a Class A view of Alfred and it was just so breathtaking that even someone like him felt like melting.

He had no idea that the American had been thinking the same exact thoughts about him all this time.

"Plot twist! I'm gay!" It would be impossible to say that he did not feel shocked at the sudden confession. It rendered him speechless and a thousand questions entered his brain all at once. That confidence to declare his sexuality to a stranger was risky in its own way. For all Alfred knew, he could be punched in the face. "And I'm not really sure if you are too, though I have a feeling and Jesus Christ I'm really, really hoping you are."

"And what if I'm not?"

"I might as well die"

"Are you serious?"

"You have no idea."

Arthur's heart skipped more than one beat and he was surprised how he managed to still be alive. He indeed was swinging the same way as Alfred and he was open about it. But that did not mean he was going to give him a yes, but he was not also going to give him a no. He quickly shoved himself off and took a few steps back to see if the American was only making fun of him. The hand on his wrist remained, however.

Alfred looked at him with hopeful eyes and he kind of understood how the lad felt. The thing about being gay was that, finding '_the one'_ was just plain hard. You cannot just assume an extremely handsome man to be playing the same cards just because he was clean-shaven and had well combed hair. Also, more often than not, many straight men pretend to be homosexual for fun, and for money. So in short, Arthur was simply being careful. Alfred was handsome and he could probably hail a thousand ladies and have them on all fours. To put it simply, the stranger was too good to be true. But who knew? He might be worth a shot.

Because one more thing about being gay was when you find the right one, more often than not you will be believe in the idea of forever. It was like, a jackpot of a lifetime.

"I'm sorry but, can I have your number?" He may have barely noticed it but Alfred's hold on his wrist tightened when he rolled his eyes, still pretending that he cannot be swayed by those puppy eyes. "Please? Pretty please?"

"What for?"

"I just, well, I had to make sure we'd meet again, Artie."

"Artie?"

"It's a nickname I picked especially for you! Do you like it?"

"Hell no."

"You mean, 'hell yes!'"

He shook his head, disapproving. Then he pulled his wrist, free from Alfred's grip with a small smile. Even if the American looked down, he still took a step back. But before he completely turned on his heels, he looked at Alfred seriously in the eye.

"I'll give it you the next time we meet, that is '_if' _there is a next time. Pray hard, Alfred Jones." He grinned before turning making a run for it. The way Alfred's eyes widened obviously showed he got his hopes up. It was not a hundred percent sure that they would meet again but who knew how dangerous possibilities could be?

From when he turned open and started to dash away across the street, he carried a smile on his face up until he entered the doors of the faculty room. As he took his seat in his own little cubicle, a curious head peeked up from the desk across him that was merely separated by a thin divider.

"My, my. You're late, you're a mess, and you're... Smiling? Mon dieu, is it the end of the world?"

Arthur paused from arranging the files on his desk to face the other with crossed arms. He leaned back on his swiveling chair as he looked up at his French workmate. Normally he would have a list of daily insults to throw but at that time, there only was one thing his mouth was strangely itching to say.

"Plot twist."

"Plot what?"

"Belt up, Francis."

He grinned as he stood up to attend to his next class.

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**I have this saved in my computer for many months now and so I've decided to post it here just to pressure myself to put an end to this because it's already rotting in my documents. *evil laughter***

**So this is basically their many 'firsts' and I already am half way through finishing this. Only a few chapters short actually, before this fic is done so you don't have to worry about the updates.**

**But then again I still have my other fics to update so... haha! **

**Anyway, hope you liked this! Woooo. **

**Comments, suggestions, and violent reactions are love.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I just realized... IT'S DECEMBER! *CHEERS***

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**Part 2: The First date**

It had been a week since he last saw the American and at that point, Arthur was convinced that they would never meet again. Alfred may have just been a random stranger he met by chance, but he could not take him off his mind. Especially that 'plot twist' habit which he somehow became used to saying ever since. And he would not deny that what had happened at that rainy day was in itself, a plot twist in his life. He just wished it would happen again. Dear god, maybe he shouldn't have played hard to get.

The skies were dark once more and anytime soon it was going to pour. Arthur was just glad to have made it to the event before the clouds started thrashing out again. He was at an Art Exhibit together with Francis, his co-teacher, whom he very much preferred to call 'frog.'

The French man was an art teacher while Arthur taught Literature. The trip to the exhibit was actually meant for their students to hunt for inspiration and not for both their leisure, yet it was slowly going that way as little by little, they both drifted to opposite corners of the whole place and their students were scattered about without supervision.

All alone, Arthur felt at peace as he let his green eyes wander about the works he passed by. There were sculptures, pencil drawings, paintings, photography, all with their own different themes and messages. From time to time he would stop whenever something would be screaming for his attention and it would take him minutes of staring before he moved on. But if there was one work that stole him from the ugliness of reality, it was a painting of an angel.

He had seen many works with an angel on them but so far, this had beaten every one of those. It was a side view of a little girl who was hugging her knees. Her wings fell on her back, relaxed, and her long blond hair flowed past her face gracefully. There was an innocent look in her vibrant green eyes that for some reason, Arthur felt deeply familiar with as he possessed the same irises. Actually, it was those orbs that caught him as they seemed to be looking into his very soul. In short, he was captivated.

A small smile graced his lips as he took a step back. Really, it was an admirable piece of work and he intended to show it to Francis and his students. A great deal of inspiration might be born from it and a very creative and well written essay was something to look forward to even in the rarest of times.

"Arth—oof!"

He bumped into someone as he turned around to leave. The other was obviously bigger than him as he stumbled a step back after the impact and he almost fell on his bum. It was a good thing that he was saved from the pain of falling on the floor by the stranger whom he accidentally collided with. But when he lifted his head, he was surprised to see that the other was not a stranger at all! Because fate just shouted 'Plot twist! It's Alfred.'

Alfred as in, blond hair, blue eyes, American, Jones.

"Are you alright?" Big, warm hands rested firmly on each of his arms as their owner wore a panicked face. Before he could answer, streams of concerned questions and sincere apologies drowned him and left the poor Brit standing there idly as he let the American finish his sentences which took a while.

"Are you done?" He asked, finally being able to speak as he took advantage of the sudden pause Alfred had to take just to breathe. He raised a brow, his lips half smiling while the other slowly was realizing how he over reacted to what just happened. Immediately, he muttered one last sorry before letting the Brit go.

"I'm really sorry. I got excited when I saw you so I ran and then you turned and then," Alfred was vomiting words again and Arthur could not help but laugh which left the taller blond to look at him, confused.

"You talk too much." He smiled reassuringly as to not make his remark seem offensive. "Anyway, I'm fine. Thank you."

Alfred's tensed shoulders relaxed as he sighed in relief. His bright smile, the same one from a week ago adorned his face as he looked at Arthur and then at the painting which the Englishman had been admiring for minutes. At first, Alfred did not say anything and it made Arthur feel uneasy. He really rather have the blond talk endlessly than say nothing at all.

"So what do you think of that painting?" The question was not what he expected to hear, but it was not an unpleasant question for him not to answer. He was actually more than glad to share his thoughts about it

"It's brilliant. She's beautiful, very."

"I'm glad you think so too. I drew her face after you."

"Oh... What?" He stilled and whipped his head too look at Alfred's face. The man stared back at him innocently. No sly grins, no biting of lips, just a genuine face that left no room for Arthur to doubt. Instead of asking again, his eyes frantically searched for the small, gold plated label that could be found at the bottom of art works and he couldn't have been more shocked to see Alfred's full name, neatly written in cursive letters.

"You made this?" He said, still unbelieving despite the clear as crystal proof. "Y-you paint?"

"Plot twist! Yup and yup! Actually, I had a hard time finishing her. I was just able to finalize everything two days ago. You see, I was kinda having problems with her face so for a month she was faceless. I didn't know what she should look like. Um no, I do know how she should look like but have no idea how to make it look like how she should look like." Alfred paused and rubbed the back of his neck. "I sounded weird just now."

"Indeed. But I don't mind. Though to be honest, I don't see our resemblance. And more importantly, why me?"

"Oh! About that, so I had a bit of a crisis right? Because she was supposed be an angelic little girl, pretty, beautiful, cute, all of those. Like a cute little daughter. But what would she look like? I asked myself, how would I want my daughter to look like? Me? Nope. Not like me. So that was another problem." He turned and met Arthur's eyes, smiling as he noticed the Brit's cheeks tainted with pink.

"And then I met you. After our fated encounter, I went home, saw my faceless artwork, and I was finally able to answer my question. If I had a daughter, then I definitely would want her to look like _you_. Now, why you? I think you can figure that out on your own since it should be pretty obvious by now."

Obvious? Of course it was but somehow, Arthur still wanted Alfred to spell out the answer to him because simply saying it was obvious was not enough. Judging by the way the other's lips fell into silence however, it seemed that he really was on his own in figuring out the obvious.

"What you did was kind of creepy." He commented with a chuckle. "But for some reason, it's quite charming for you to do so."

"It's because I really do like you."

"I might be a murderer."

"I don't really mind."

"Plot twist. I'm serious."

"Plot twist. Me too. So, there's a really good cafe just a few blocks from here. Wanna check it out?"

Arthur shook his head with a smile, disbelieving how impossibly smooth the other was. He crossed his arms, eyes returning to stare back intently at Alfred whom he just noticed to have taken a step closer to him. Smooth was the right word. Smooth, charming, that he still could not help but doubt that Alfred had taken an interest on a dull, stuck up Brit like him.

"When?"

"Right now."

"I can't right now."

"Tomorrow?"

"Okay."

"YES!" Alfred cheered unnecessarily loud that it made Arthur flinch and the people around them to turn in their direction. Immediately, his ears turned redder than it already was at the sudden attention, but the bespectacled blond beside seemed not to mind at all. "You won't regret this. Like, you really won't. I promise."

"I hope so." He raised a challenging brow as one final taunt before he decided it was time to leave. The others were probably looking for him right now, especially Francis. The bearded man cared for him like he was his brother, and so he was the least of all the people whom Arthur would want to witness the possible unfolding of his love story. Just thinking about the endless teasing and lectures about love made him feel uneasy. "I really need to go now."

"Too soon?" He almost felt guilty when Alfred's smile fell. "But it's still early."

"I'm here on a class trip. My students might be looking for me right now." He smiled, turned, then waved a hand as he walked away. "See you tomorrow."

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The next morning went by painfully slow. It was only seven and it meant three hours more of waiting. The cafe that Alfred was talking about was only a few blocks away, just a ten minute walk from where he lived. He was going to dress up around nine-thirty or so as he intended to be at least a quarter late. If there was someone who was feeling excited, it was not supposed to be him.

For another minute, he did not move on his bed with an arm draped over his eyes. He could feel his head slightly hurting as if a little hammer was tapping against his skull. Hopefully it wouldn't last for the rest of the day. It was probably just the stressful week getting to him.

When he stood up, his vision got blurry and everything seemed to be turning. He had to close his eyes and wait for the pounding on his head to subside even for a little before standing up to prepare breakfast.

Or maybe he'd just miss the first meal of the day since he would be eating out in a matter of three hours. He did not mind waiting until then and he wasn't really starving yet.

If at first he felt impatient for the three hours to pass by, when quarter to ten arrived he already was feeling nervous and hesitant in his seat, in his couch, at home. With the telly turned on and completely ignored. He was itching to leave, but he did not want to arrive before Alfred.

Soon there were five minutes left and as he stepped out the door of his condominium unit, all the fears he have never thought about before suddenly occurred to him. What if Alfred Jones did not show up? What if it was all just a prank?

What if Alfred was actually straight and he was just messing with him?

His thoughts were shattered the moment his phone rang loudly inside his pocket. It made him jump. But what surprised him even more was the name of the caller that flashed brightly in his screen. Seeing Alfred's name made him all the more fidgety. Was the American going to cancel their date- er, lunch?

"Hello?" It was a relief that his voice came out without breaking. But it did not flow the same way for Alfred as his voice hitched and cracked nervously at the other end.

"_H-hey Artie! Did I disturb you or anything?" _ Ah, there was that nickname again but he chose to ignore it.

"No. Is there something the matter?"

It took a long while before he was answered.

"_Um, no! Haha. I was just... Actually I'm already here. You know, for our d-date, uuh, lunch. Lunch date." _Alfred breathed heavily against the phone. Well he had been talking too fast so who could blame him? "_Y-You're coming right? Like, really coming?"_

Arthur stilled, finally getting what was wrong.

The way Alfred spoke nervously, with all his confidence unbelievably down to a zero, the bespectacled man had feared the same things. The paranoia that ran in his British brain cells seemed to have been communicating via wireless connection with Alfred's American ones, agreeing to scare them with negative predictions that lay in their future, ten minutes away from now.

His lips slowly curved into a smile, and it did not take five seconds for a laugh to escape past them which he quickly tried to stop by covering his mouth. Despite that, Alfred already heard him.

"_Hey! Are you laughing?"_

_"_No."

"_You are! What's so funny!?"_

"Nothing." He leaned back against his door with a small smile gracing his face, a complete match to the unusual pink that tainted his cheeks. "Anyway, I'm heading there now. Sorry to keep you waiting."

_"Really? Okay, I'll wait! Take care Arthur!"_

_"_You too."

The phone call ended. But Arthur knew that their story was just about to begin. To really, really begin. And it was going to start with one giddy step away from his door, followed by taking another, and another, diminishing little by little the distance between him and the daft blond, Jones.

At that moment, the only thing he felt was the eagerness to see Alfred. Then maybe he would give him one tight hug. Or maybe not. The Brit barely even knew him for goodness' sake! More so, he could not imagine himself still managing to continue to breath if ever he did hug the American.

Actually, hyperventilating might even come first before he could even do anything else.

The million things that could happen in that whole day was running a marathon in his head, drumming against his chest, and shooting adrenaline in his legs to make him walk faster than his usual 'I'm late for work' pace. And in that ten-no, five minute walk, Arthur had to remind himself that it was only just the first and hopefully not the last lunch date with Alfred. He should not be looking forward to it that much, and he should stop fantasizing about it going to be perfect.

When Arthur arrived a block away, he did not know if it was just his eyes being biased but Alfred ridiculously stood out among the sea of Englishmen and women. It was not about him being a migrant all the way across the pond. In fact, he blended well. But he was shining despite the simple Captain America tee he wore. While Arthur was just your old, plain looking Brit with his boring, long sleeved shirt which he had to roll up his elbows because they dangled past his fingers when let loose.

Unexpectedly, even if he had not taken another step from where he watched Alfred, said blond suddenly whipped his head in his direction. An instant smile born from pure joy hung in the man's face as he jogged towards him. If Arthur had to compare him to anything now, he would be a dog who was delighted to see his human after a long, long day.

And just like a dog, Alfred threw his self to him, trapping Arthur's slender body in his arms, much to the smaller blond's surprise. And hey, he did not complain. Because in the name of the queen, he actually had been hoping for this in the first place.

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**My feels are exploding. The reviews and faves and alerts are awesome! ****Thanks for reading!**

**Feel free to tell me what you think! Tralalala!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey.**

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**Part 3: The First Kiss**

"Oh hoh! There's that smile again!"

"Sod off, Francis!"

It was the fifth time that his French co-worker pointed out the foreign curve on his lips. Monday was notorious for bringing every single person back to the surface of reality, yet there he was, his thoughts flying away into the sunset with a certain blond man. Francis had been doing the back-to-the-real-world work for him and he did not appreciate it. Nope. Not one bit.

"Mon cher, are you perhaps in love?"

A distinct snapping sound was heard coming from Arthur's mechanical pencil. At this, Francis raised an amused be brow. The Brit had delicate hands that produced the heavenly, cursive handwriting of the gods. Ever so graceful, ever so light. He rarely broke a pencil's lead. In those very, very few times he did, something was definitely going on.

Before Arthur could even warn the man from opening his good-for-nothing mouth, Francis was already beaming mischievously from the other side of the plastic wall which was really the only thing that shielded him from Arthur's fists.

"Finally you've found someone! I was getting worried!" Francis leaned in further, resting his knees on his desk. It was a terrible sign that Arthur was about to face an onslaught of questions and advices about 'l'amour.' "So who is it? A she? A he? An it?"

"An _it_? Francis, seriously?"

"Do not underestimate the power of love."

"Go away, frog!"

He turned his chair around to face the other direction, completely ignoring the non-sense coming out of those French lips. He still had an article to finish, a bunch of other articles to re-read and edit. Francis was just going to distract him to no end.

From behind him, the man was still talking. Obviously, it did not matter if he was listening or not because Francis was sure that at least some of what he was saying was being absorbed unwillingly by Arthur.

"Come on, give me a name. You cannot ignore me forever, Arthur. In fact, you shouldn't be ignoring me at all! I hail from the country of l'amour, or have you forgotten that mon lapin?"

"How can I forget when I'm being slapped by your horrendous language five times a week?"

"Excuse moi, my language is sexy."

The sudden vibration in his pocket took his attention. His hand quickly swoop down to grab his phone, glancing warily behind him to see if Francis was still at a safe distance away. He saw the Frenchman still talking to himself, preaching about love and completely clueless with the message he just received.

His phone lit up along with his face as he read the text.

_'Hey Artie! I found this cool ice cream parlor on my way to work! Can we go? Please?'_

Arthur had to stiffle a laugh. Alfred was acting childish again, and it just made him all the more hard to refuse. Shaking his head, he texted back.

'_Okay.'_

"Ooh, you've got a date?"

The tickling breath made him jump in his seat. Just as he feared, Francis had not been contented with simply staying in his side of the divider. Somehow without him noticing, the bearded blond welcomed himself in Arthur's tiny space and crept up behind him.

He whipped his head towards the other when he heard the lacy voice near his ear, and surprisingly, its owner face appeared before him in a blur. For a moment, all he could see was the blond over the color of skin, and he had to blink his eyes a number of times and shake his head before everything was clear once again. Though it was followed by the throbbing of his skull and it only made matters worse.

"Arthur, are you alright?"

"I'm bloody fine."

"I see. Then you won't mind me borrowing this for a while."

Without warning, Francis took his phone away from him, lifting it up as his thumbs scrolled through the messages and Arthur was left with no choice but to result to physical abuse. His coworker was a good feet taller than him just like Alfred which meant longer arms. He was at a complete disadvantage if he were to try and compete with handling his phone.

"Alfred huh? Oh, you like ice cream? Since when?"

"Mind your own business, frog!"

Francis laughed and stumbled out of Arthur's cubicle while playfully holding the phone to his left. His head ache was hurting more and more but the dire need to retrieve his phone back was more important.

It was going to be one long day.

* * *

As the days went by, Arthur could not help but notice how Alfred grew to be more intimate. But not like the sexy, seductive intimate. It was more of a loving, caring, and sweet kind that just made the whole of his being want to melt in the American's arms.

They always went out to eat together. Sometimes breakfast, more often than not, lunch. On some nights, he would be invited to eat a classy restaurant. Actually at that point, he could safely assume that they were definitely be doomed if they were ever deprived of seeing each other for more than two days. He knew that they were slowly, but surely walking towards being inseparable and he did not know what to exactly feel about it. If anything though, he was positive he did not regret anything that had happened so far.

Text messages and late midnight calls continued to connect them whenever they lacked the time to see the other. In his working hours, Alfred would send him a random joke or a shameless pick-up line. Sometimes, a lame poem that started with 'roses are red, violets are blue.'

No matter the circumstance, Alfred never missed a beat to send him a message. The man worked for a big company which meant they considered time to be more important than gold. Yet he always did, and when Arthur brought the topic up, he argued and said he would continue to do so. The American reasoned, _'the only time I'm wasting are the seconds I spend not talking to you, not being with you, and not thinking about you.'_

In that moment, Arthur felt exceptional.

It was one hell of a Friday night when Arthur received a message in the middle of cleaning up his desk which was full of torn papers, staple wires, and paper clips. From the other side of the divider, he heard Francis cursing in his mother tongue, still being eaten alive by his work. Their boss just had a tantrum and and unseasonably demanded all grade sheets to be finished and passed before eight o'clock.

_'Artie! Ya goin' home already?'_

_'I will be in a bit.'_

_'Plot twist, no you're not. I'm right downstairs. Will be waiting for ya!'_

He quickly jumped up from his seat, shoving the mess on his desk on one side without a care anymore. It would be easy to organize them anyway and they were far less important the person eagerly waiting for him. With a quick goodbye to the troubled Frenchman at the other cubicle, he hurried out of the faculty room and hastily ran towards the closing elevator doors.

All alone, he stared at the lit numbers of floors and for some reason; he couldn't bring himself to press anything. How hard was it to press that big letter G for ground floor? He did it every day, but now he just couldn't. For a minute, his hand failed to cooperate with him and when he finally was able to move it again, it pressed a wrong button.

A crease had formed in his forehead, questioning himself what just happened. A minute ago he felt off and his mind was confused. But now, everything was back to normal. His vision was clear and he had proper control of his right arm and hand. Noticing the wrong floor lit up, he quickly cancelled it out and pressed the right button. The tiresome evening must have been affecting him.

When the elevator doors opened, he half walked half jogged on the lobby when he saw the American standing out in the cool of the night. Even though Alfred had his back turned against him, Arthur knew for sure that it was him and there was no mistaking it.

He took a deep breath in and tried to minimize his wide smile before silently approaching the taller blond who still was clueless about his presence. As he neared him, he could see Alfred rocking in his toes and heels. The man must have been bored to death and he felt a little guilty about it.

With pursed lips, he went out the automatic glass doors and the buzz it made caught Alfred's attention. Arthur meant to surprise him, but rather it was he who was left astonished.

In the American's hands were elegantly arranged Ecuadorian roses, wrapped beautifully with some classy paper. A big, yellow ribbon kept them all together in place. It was not the first time that Alfred gave him a bouquet, but so far that one was the most stunning, and he was willing to bet that it was the most expensive as well.

"Good evening, Arthur."

The proper usage of his name was a bit surprising but he paid little attention to it as the flowers were given to him. He cradled them in his arms with utmost care, making sure that not even a single petal fell off.

"Thank you, Alfred. You didn't have to." He smiled down at the roses in admiration before turning his eyes back at the other with a raised brow. "So, I assume you're taking me somewhere fancy again?"

"Nah. My home's not that big and classy."

Alfred was rocking on his heels again, with his hands inside the pocket of his red, Iron Man hoodie. He was smiling, but Arthur sensed the nervousness that he was trying to perfectly hide within him.

Did he hear him right? He felt so tired after a long day and what he felt in the elevator was just one of fatigue's effects on him. Being delusional might just be another. He blinked his eyes like an idiot asking for further explanation that he could easily comprehend without his brain cells stressing out.

"I was thinking about cooking dinner for you tonight."

If that was not able to do much for him as a clear explanation, then he really should get his brain checked. But the fact that he heard him correctly meant he was not creating desperate sentences in his mind, and he was not being fooled by them in an attempt in mixing reality from fantasy. Confusing the two had consequences worthy for a gormless mind.

He was not able to say anything in the first few seconds. Only a bunch of useless vowel sounds resonated from his throat and out his mouth. The way Alfred looked at him with fear of being denied was making him just want to latch his body on the other and never let go. He was pretty confident anyway that the American would be more than willing to cage him in his arms for the rest of eternity.

He mentally slapped himself. How brave of him to think like that when they haven't even kissed yet.

"But if you don't want to then-"

"I-I'm going!"

It might have sounded a little too willing but Alfred's overjoyed face told him that he did the right thing.

The drive took only a quarter of minutes yet for Arthur, it felt endless. It wasn't as if they fell in an awkward silence halfway through. With Alfred being too happy that he accepted the invitation, every second that passed was full of descriptions of his home like a whole shelf filled with comic books, and another full of his action figure collection. To put simply, Arthur was expecting to see an American room full of American stuff.

When they arrived in their destination, he wasn't disappointed. Everything he was told was there in the exact places as described. The place was just as small as his, but Alfred was able to arrange everything properly to make it spacious unlike his own. He just had too much stuff- mostly books - and it occupied most of the spaces in his room that he had to store them away in boxes to be able to walk around without bumping anything.

Alfred let him sit on one of the comfiest couches on planet Earth, and he thought that if it were not for his rapidly beating heart, he would have fallen asleep right on the spot.

From where he sat, he watched Alfred prepare dinner, all the while ignoring his stirring vision. For some reason he felt so tired and weary that he let himself feel lax against the soft cushions, steadying his breathing and relaxing his stressed eyes.

He suddenly felt the cushions shift as Alfred sat beside him. One green eye opened just to peer at what the other was probably up to.

Alfred was facing him, his eyes closed and his cheek rested against the soft couch. His breathes were steady and Arthur thought that his host might have slumbered already. But then, as if knowing that he was watching him, Alfred smiled and opened his eyes. The way he returned Arthur's gaze with such passion and longing when they were not even separated for more than twenty four hours was weird, but he did not question it because love was supposed to be weird.

Arthur closed his eyes once again and sighed. He just admitted openly to himself that he had fallen head over heels with the man beside him.

The next thing he knew, fingers were brushing against his cheek and it caught him by surprise. When he opened his eyes and sat straight up, Alfred quickly withdrew his hand and did the same. Then they were silent for a good minute as they let awkwardness embrace the atmosphere, until it was shattered by Alfred's nervous laugh.

"I—I'm sorry I just..." The American ran a hand through his hair and bit his lip as his eyes drifted away from Arthur's. His cheeks were just as red as the Englishman's as he let out another uncertain laugh before finally finding his usual cheeky composure. "Well, it's not really a secret that I find you irresistible isn't it?"

Arthur's jaw dropped, and when Alfred really let out a laugh, he quickly grabbed a pillow and covered the lower half of his face, leaving only his eyes for the other to see. He tried his best to glare at the bespectacled man, yet it only seemed to feed the other's amusement even more. Rolling his eyes and inching away from the other noticeably, he composed himself and successfully stopped his voice from shaking when he spoke.

"Must you always be so blunt?"

"Yeah, coz your blushing face is really, absolutely priceless and I wouldn't miss it for the world."

The Brit hit him with the pillow a number of times before Alfred grabbed hold of it and pulled it forward suddenly that it was too late for Arthur to let go. His body flew forward, face almost touching the couch but Alfred was able catch his shoulders.

"Whoops. Careful, princess."

Arthur slowly raised his head stared at the other's blue eyes with his own eyebrows up in a questioning form, their faces only a ruler apart.

"What did you just call me?"

"Uh, princess?" Alfred blinked then chuckled. "I'm sorry. Just a slip of the tongue. I can't really help it."

"Right." The Brit straightened up, recovering from the embarrassment he had just been through though the blush on his cheeks were still fairly noticeable. He dusted and straightened his clothes out of habit, looking at the American from the corner of his eyes. "You're pretty careless today."

Alfred chuckled and then took a deep breath as he scooted closer to him. He leaned forward, the tips of their noses merely a few centimeters away that Arthur's whole body froze and his mind completely go blank. Then Alfred whispered breathlessly.

"Yes. I guess I am."

And they kissed.

Yes, Arthur was surprised. Yes, he felt paralyzed. Yes, his heart was racing a million miles per second. Still, those factors did nothing to stop his lips from synchronizing with Alfred's own chapped ones. Then slowly, the rest of his body remembered that they could move. His arms crawled from Alfred's chest to the shoulders before fully looping them around the American's neck as his own body was pulled closer by the other with gentle force. A warm hand gently cupping his flustered cheek as the other held him securely around the waist, preventing him from making a gap between their chests.

The kiss was gentle and passionate, no tongues and teasing bites involved but was enough to say that they are without a doubt, intensely longing for each other despite the fact that they met almost every single day. Arthur felt Alfred's weight slowly pushing him down against the couch and he did not argue. To be honest, he really did not care anymore if they ended up going past first and second base, running straight for a home run.

But apparently, fate seemed to tell them that it was still too early for that and the message was delivered through the attention seeking whistle of the kettle which Alfred set up before he joined Arthur on the sofa. Surprised, they broke apart and sat up, their heads turned toward the boiling water's direction. Realizing that there was no reason to be alarmed about, Alfred laughed and Arthur's face flushed even more as what they just did quickly sank in.

"I'm sorry about that. Though you would want some tea so..." Alfred shyly reasoned as he slowly crawled off Arthur. "I should get it."

"I-it's fine. Go before your house burns down." He muttered under his breath, preparing to stand up. "Start preparing the food. I'll take care of the plates. I came here to have dinner, after all." He managed to smile and Alfred returned it.

They both stood up, and Arthur forcefully kept his eyes away from drifting and staring at the American as they rounded the couch and approached the kitchen. He was so overwhelmed that he lost the gut to meet Alfred in the eye. As of the moment, he did not trust his body to stay calm and collected and not to faint if ever he caught Alfred's gaze and locked with it.

Before he could even take steps away from the other to fetch the plates which were clearly located across the stove, he felt a hand on his wrist and he was pulled only to receive a five-seconds-long kiss on the lips. Alfred smiled down at him and winked when they parted. As the shock left him, Arthur pulled away and shook his head.

"You're being exceptionally careless."

"Yeah, but you like it."

Laughing softly, he gave Alfred a gentle push on the shoulder, rolled his eyes, and then finally turned to fetch the plates so he could set the table up.

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**Feels, feels, feels, and more feels.**

**Thanks a lot for the reviews, the faves, and the follows! Again, I appreciate comments and suggestions. Violent reactions in any form also have a special place in my heart. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Fluff!**

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**Part 4: Officially together.**

If someone were to ask Arthur to describe how Alfred first said those three special words to him, it would take a lot of blushing seconds and sputtering before he could give that someone the most decent answer he could come up with.

"_It was lovely."_

It probably was not the best answer anyone would expect, but Arthur really cannot think about anything else to say other than the word 'lovely.' And it was only because no matter how much he tried to gather up all the adjectives in the dictionary that was synonymous with the words beautiful, and unforgettable, to his opinion, clearly they would not suffice. They would not be enough to fully grasp and capture what happened. Arthur thought that even catching everything on video would not justify that one special moment.

Alfred was full of surprises. The American possessed such an exceptional talent in changing the way Arthur's life usually flowed even in the most extraordinarily normal and hopelessly boring day. Despite knowing the American for quite a time and being used to almost everything about him, Arthur would always be caught off guard, totally not ready for yet another one of Alfred's crazy ideas and actions whether intentional or not. The sunny blond was simply unpredictable that Arthur was positive it would take many lifetimes before the surprises ceased.

He shook his head. It might actually take the whole of eternity before the amusement of these surprises disappeared because in all honesty, Arthur would not mind Alfred surprising him with a red rose every day, and he would never get tired of the unannounced kisses that the other would steal for at least four times in twenty four hours.

And so it was just another day when school was finally out. Arthur now had all the time in the world to waste with Alfred. It was the thought of spending the rest of the weekend with the American that played in his mind as he wearily stepped out of the faculty room with a goofy smile on his face. But then it eventually dissolved into a thin line when he remembered that he was not going to see Alfred until Sunday.

The man never settled on one place. As a part time artist, there were times when Alfred needed to travel away for some art exhibit, and as an office worker, Alfred would be shipped off out of town to attend seminars and meetings and trainings for a day or two. Sometimes five. And Arthur would always, always receive a phone call at least twice a day during his absence.

One could say they were overly attached for people who were not even officially a couple. But Arthur liked it that way, and so he really never paid any thought on it nor questioned it, nor found it weird and too mushy for his own good. It did not matter anyway, because no matter how much he expected Alfred' call, whenever one came it would always delight him as if it was the first time in many years that someone gave his phone a ring.

So that night, when his phone rang in his pocket as he walked down the street on his way to his home, Arthur frantically fetched his phone out and stared at the brightly lit screen as if the name and picture the flashed on it was something he had not seen for the longest time. It took a few more rings and vibrations before his trembling finger was able to hit and slide the answer icon. Biting his lower lip, he brought the phone to his ear and he held his breath unconsciously as he waited for a voice from the other line.

"_Arthur? Artie, are you there?_"

He could hear Alfred's breaths through the tiny speaker pressed in his ear and he just by listening to it, he found himself visibly relaxing. His shoulders dropped, his breathes became even, and small smile formed on his lips as he began to continue his walk home with a much slower, carefree pace.

"Of course I'm here. Who else would have answered the phone?"

Arthur heard the other chuckle on the other end and he found himself doing the same. When the small laughter died, everything was silent for a moment and nothing was heard except for the occasional sound of speeding cars along the road, and the inevitable tapping sound that his shoes made with each step against the moist pavement.

It rained earlier that day and so the temperature dropped down a few degrees when night time came. Pausing in front of the pedestrian lane, Arthur tugged on his coat in an attempt to monopolize the little warmth his body emitted.

"_I miss you._"

His eyes drifted away from the red, human shaped light above him. Even without seeing himself, he knew that his cheeks had gone pink because he felt them grow warm. They made the cold more bearable.

"Git. You just called me this afternoon."

"_Yeaaah… but I did not see you._"

The pedestrian light turned green, and he almost missed it if it were not for the two other people who waited him, suddenly disappearing by his side only for him to see them half way across the street.

"_And I was not able to hug you. I mean, you know?_"

Arthur walked briskly, still looking left and right despite the clear, round stop signal that hovered above him.

"Oh, I do not know."

"_Yes you do! I bet you wanna hug me too! I bet you're gonna hug me the moment you see me again._"

"I admire your confidence."

"_It's because I know I'm right._"

Alfred declared proudly, and it made Arthur roll his eyes though of course the smile on his face did not fail to show and take its place. As Arthur successfully crossed the street, he tried to bite his lower lip, eyes quickly taking a quick scan at his surroundings to see if anyone saw him look weird (because what else could he possibly look like when he was smiling alone at nothing). As the American on the other line continued to babble nonsense, Arthur walked along the streets with his hand occasionally covering his mouth during those moments when he had to humble a laugh or a huge grin.

Among the many things that Arthur really liked about Alfred was the man's ability to make him smile even for the most nonsensical and utterly stupid reasons.

"_I really do think that the chicken came first before the egg," _He heard Alfred sigh. "_because, there can't be an egg without a chicken._"

"But there can't be a chicken without an egg." He argued just for the sake of arguing. Sure enough, Alfred grunted from the other end and he could just picture the troubled look on the American's face perfectly.

"_Nu uh! There can be a chicken without an egg! Evolution, yo! Dude, ever heard of it?_"

"No."

"_Riiiight. You're just playing with me._"

Arthur laughed and he could hear the same sound resonating from his phone as he turned a corner.

"Revenge. You always make fun of me. Now we're even."

There was an exaggerated gasp and Arthur braced himself for whatever was to come.

"_Hey! I'm not making fun of you!_" Alfred exclaimed and the Brit could only roll his eyes though he really would not be looking so nonchalant in the next minute to come. He should have known that but it escaped his mind and so he continued walking and breathing and looking normally until Alfred continued his defensive statement. "_I'm really not you know. Why would I? You're like, the cutest guy in the world—OOOH!_"

Arthur almost choked. He bit his lip, eyes widening as he thought about ending the call at that very second but obviously he could not and would not. There was no other choice but to listen to Alfred and feel the shame.

"_I'm not making fun of you when I say you're cute. And beautiful, and gorgeous, and sexy, and—_"

"What!? Hey! Sh-shut it!"

"—_nice, and smart, and graceful—_"

"Oi! Alfred!"

"—_breathtaking, mesmerizing, blinding, amaz— oh shit I ran out of fingers._"

"Ran out of fingers!?"

"_Yeah. I ran out of fingers but I still got my toes so I can still go on._"

"What? Don't! No, it's fine." Arthur tried to keep himself steady and calm. Just a few more steps before he reached his building and he would rather not spend those last footsteps with a tomato-red face. "Oh my god, you are being silly."

"_No I'm not. I can really still go on! Though I highly believe that I will also run out of toes, and I haven't even told you what I really wanna say or what I've been really wanting you to hear and I already ran out of fingers and toes though I still have my strands of hair._" There was a pause, and Arthur could just see Alfred pulling his own hair on his eyes, going crossed eyed in his stupid attempt on counting each strand. "_But I'm very, very positive they're not gonna be enough too._"

And Arthur was very, very positive that his whole face, up to his ears and down to his neck, was already red as hell. It was either he looked sick or he looked love-struck or both.

"You're exaggerating, you git." He mumbled, not really expecting the American to understand but the other did anyway. Alfred once again tried to prove Arthur wrong and told him that he was not in the slightest bit trying to use hyperboles.

"_I ain't! Well whatever. It's not like I only have today to tell you those things. I still have my whole life ahead of me. Crossed fingers though on being able to tell you everything before I die._"

Arthur's heart seemed to stop at the mention of '_whole life.'_ Two simple words, yet at the same time they were two big and deep words that meant everything to Arthur at that very moment. He paused for a second, staring at the ground as he shook his head and reminded himself to not to be too carried away. He continued walking though this time, he took his steps a beat faster.

"W-whole life?" He asked nervously and then silently cursing at himself for sounding so unsure and afraid.

"_Uh huh. My whole life._" There was a shaky breath on the line before Alfred's voice resurfaced and it was now quieter, calmer, and not rushed nor overly energetic. "_Haha. I'm sorry. Am I being too straight forward? Please don't think I'm crazy._"

Arthur looked up and saw his condominium building towering a few meters ahead of him. He bit his lip and shook his head, but then he remembered that Alfred could not see him. He slowed down and answered softly.

"I don't. Idiot." Alfred laughed and his voice was noticeably livelier when he spoke again.

"_Really? That's comforting._" He found himself smiling at the other's answer, because somehow a part of him felt relieved. "_It's funny though, that I've already told you all these wonderful things about you when… oh._"

Alfred trailed and Arthur's eye brows furrowed when the other no longer continued the sentence after a few seconds.

"Alfred?"

"_You're here._"

He blinked, confused because if he considered those two words to be the continuation of Alfred's hanging sentence, it made no sense. Or maybe it did, just not the kind of sense he expected.

"What?" He asked, again, and was answered by a chuckle.

"_How about you stop staring at the ground and look straight ahead? I guarantee you a million-dollar view._"

And so without questioning any further, Arthur lifted his head up and he stopped on his track in the very next second that came, eyes widening in surprise. Because sure enough, Alfred did not lie. Right in front of him only a few feet away was Alfred himself. In the flesh, facing him with a huge, dopey grin on his equally flushed face which, Arthur was sure, not caused by the cold of the night. It was indeed a million-dollar view. Probably worth more.

"_Plot twist._" He heard Alfred whisper on the phone and that what snapped him back. He shook his head disbelievingly, smiled, and then hung up before crossing his arms and staring back smugly at the other. Alfred did the same, and they stared and smiled at each other for the next twenty or so seconds before the American stretched his arms invitingly. Arthur could just not resist.

He half walked half jogged toward the others and happily landed on the man's embrace. Alfred hugged him tightly, and he could feel the other's face burying through his messy hair.

"You're here." Arthur said without letting go and Alfred answered with a hum. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in—"

"Yeah. But I left earlier because there really wasn't anything else important to do. They're just gonna have these parties and lame group activities and I'd rather be with you." Alfred gasped and Arthur wondered why. "Omg. Did you hear the rhyme?"

The Englishman snorted and hit the other man's arm playfully before pulling away with a small smile on his face.

"Are you sure about that? You might regret your decision." Arthur teased though if he was going to be honest, he kind of regretted asking, afraid that Alfred might have some second thoughts about choosing him over a kickass party. To his relief, the American shook his head and pulled him again in another tight hug.

"Should you really be wasting time in asking these stupid questions instead of hugging me?" Arthur laughed in response and returned the comforting embrace. "Besides, I still have a lot of things to tell you right? And the average number of hair strands a human has is like… a lot."

"A lot." He repeated amusedly.

"Uh huh. _A lot_. But like what I said, they're not enough. And, more importantly, I haven't really told you I love you have I? So I'm gonna tell you now before it's too late." The arms around him squeezed him tighter as Alfred nuzzled his chin at the crook of the Brit's neck. "I love you, Arthur."

Arthur stilled and his breathing seemed to stop.

It was the first time Alfred said those words to him, and now that he thought of it, he never really heard himself telling Alfred the same. He kind of felt guilty about it now, but then he wondered why he never got to say those things after all this time. Arthur was sure he loved the American, and even if he did still possess some doubts about Alfred (because he still could not believe that someone like the American could fall in love with someone like him), he was kind of sure that his feelings were being generously reciprocated. So how come he was not able to notice such a crucial and important thing?

Ah, it was simply because he was too busy loving Alfred back that he no longer cared nor paid attention to anything else.

"I've been meaning to tell you this for days now." Alfred continued nervously when Arthur did not say anything. The Brit did not even lift a finger as he concentrated on keeping his breathing steady. "But every time I try to, I'll just suddenly find myself staring at you and wanting to kiss you and hug you and pinch your cheeks then eventually I'll forget." The American laughed shyly then shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry it took a while. I'm just too in love with you."

Arthur felt his tears building up at the corner of his eyes so he immediately pulled away and wiped them off before they escaped. But then of course, one of them managed to slip past Arthur's fingers and it had Alfred panicking in an instant. Before he even knew it, his cheek was being wiped with the other's handkerchief and he could not really help but find everything funny at that moment because there really was nothing to wipe off his face. It was just a single, attention seeking tear drop.

"Oh shit. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Did I say something wrong?" Alfred asked frantically, still trying to wipe the non-existent tears on Arthur's face as he vomited questions. "Are you upset because it took so long? Or is it too early?"

"Alfred."

"Are you not ready yet!?"

"Hey! Alfred!"

"I'm really sorry I was being selfish maybe you don't even l—"

"_I love you!" _Arthur caught each of the man's wrists and held them away from his face as he stared straight into Alfred's saucer-wide eyes. "Don't you even dare finish that sentence, you idiot."

"But—"

"No buts. Did you not hear me? I just told you I l-love you too." He smiled and let the wrists go before cupping Alfred's cheeks as he took a deep, deep breath in and out. What he was doing was very embarrassing, and the fact that they both were standing in front of Arthur's building meant that a lot of people who went in and out of the establishment had witnessed their little drama. But there was no turning back anymore, and he was already holding Alfred's flushed face. "I love you too, alright? And you really haven't received any 'I love yous' from me for the same exact reasons you have and I sincerely apologize for the delay too. So I'll tell this to you now as well. I love you, Alfred. More than you can imagine."

He ended his shameless-shameful confession in a whisper, and as he stared at Alfred he grew nervous. Did he overdo it? Did he look weird? Did he sound weird when he gave out his very, very short and cheesy speech?

Before he could even find the answers to his questions, he found himself being crushed in a warm hug for the third time. People definitely were assuming that they belonged to the weird part of the society but it was not like it even mattered to either of them anymore. More like, nothing actually mattered at all at that point. It was just him, and it was just Alfred. Just Arthur and Alfred who were stupidly in love way too much, enough to stupidly forget to tell and remind each other one of the most important things in the world.

So it was just another ordinary night for Arthur, except Alfred changed it of course. And probably, some people found everything that happened to be weird as hell. But for Arthur, it was simply a lovely and indescribable night, and he would never, ever forget about it.

"_I love you._"

"_I love you too, git._"

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**I enjoyed writing this chapter. Wohoo! I'm not really good at writing pure fluffy stuff but whatever. **

**I've read the reviews! Those are nice reviews! **

_**I won't let you down. :)**_

**Thanks for reading! Till' next time!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Update! Update!**

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**Part 5: The First fight**

"Sir."

"…"

"Sir?"

"…"

"_Sir!_"

Arthur blinked out of his trance then turned dumbly at his student and at the rest of his class whose eyes were all on him, staring at him as if there was something on his face. Just to make sure, he gently ran his palm over his cheeks before looking at it with relief when he caught not a speck of dirt.

"Yes, Miss Andrews?" He asked, slightly confused but the girl reflected the same degree of uncertainty on her face.

"Um, sir, you asked me to stand up," She explained carefully as she glanced at her classmates unsurely. "and then you uh, spaced out."

He raised a brow at her, folding his arms in the process.

"I spaced out?" The girl gave a shy nod as a response to his question which he just could not believe. There was not a moment in Arthur's career as a teacher when he spaced out. Precious time was not to be wasted with thinking about useless thoughts. He came to class prepared, and he only shut his mouth whenever he listened to his students speak. _Listened._ His thoughts were always occupied by something academic related every time he stood inside a classroom. He never spaced out.

Except for now and it really bothered him.

"I apologize then." He sighed and turned, walking back behind the teacher's desk. "I just have a lot of things in mind. You may take your seat now, Miss…" He trailed, biting his lip. What was her name again?

"Andrews?" The girl replied sounding unsure herself and it was a ridiculous thought. There was no way she did not know her name. Maybe she was confused about something else? Arthur did not bother thinking about it and just nodded his head before gesturing for her to sit down.

He glanced behind him and read his own handwriting. The lectures about Homeric epics were all neatly printed on the board yet he could not remember writing most of those, he could not even believe that he was already close to wrapping up his lecture as everything he tackled in his discussion was already written there for everyone to see. He looked at the bottom part of the board and wondered where the lecture stopped. The fact that this Miss Andrews was standing meant the he was to ask her a question, but what?

The sudden throbbing of his head distracted him from trying to remember what just happened. The pain made him wince and almost lose his balance. If it were not for the table's presence, he would have been down the floor by now surrounded by his panicking students. His insides seemed to tremble and he felt like throwing up despite having eaten nothing since that morning.

"Sir, are you alright?" Someone from the front row asked. It took him a while to answer as the pain was patient enough for it to take its sweet time before receding. He swallowed hard, resisting the urge to vomit and make a fool of himself in front of everyone.

"I think so." He replied. When he tried to see who it was that asked him, the whole room was a blur. He had to take a seat as well, else his legs might give up on him and he was not really a fan of public attention. Not having much choice, he pulled his chair and a heavy breath escaped him as he sat. Everyone's eyes were on him, and it was quite touching to see that they all looked worried despite his reputation as the most avoided teacher in the campus. With the concern he saw from his students, he realized he could no longer continue teaching with his current state. "I'm sorry. I'm not feeling very well all of a sudden. You are all dismissed."

The room was suddenly filled with murmurs, and the students all glanced at one another, obviously reluctant to leave the room. It was either their concern stretched as far as they refuse to leave him and his headache alone, or the more believable reason which was that they fear he was joking because it was very unlike him to dismiss the class early. It was next to impossible.

Arthur no longer cared though. If they wanted to leave then they were free to go. If they did not want to then fine. The Englishman folded his arms on the plastic table before he buried his face in. His eyes were shut tightly and he could hear everyone's slow footsteps exit the door. It did not take long before the audible whispering died down and he was left alone to fall asleep at his spot.

He had no idea how much time had passed when someone shook him awake. Furrowing his brows, he looked up and saw that the one responsible for the disturbance was Francis.

"Arthur," The Frenchman leaned forward and looked at him with the same face his students pulled him some time ago. The only difference was, he knew that Francis concern was truer than everybody else's. "You shouldn't be sleeping in this kind of place, mon cher. Are you alright?"

Arthur rubbed his eyes and leaned back on his chair. His eyes were still droopy as he stared straight across him, right at the dull white wall.

"All right." He replied softly. "How long was I asleep?"

"Just a few minutes." Francis leaned back at the table and folded his arms. "Saw your class heading out down the corridor and I thought it's not dismissal yet. So I asked one of your students, she said you're not feeling well."

Arthur only nodded his head, finding nothing important to say. He just woke up from a few minute-long sleep which thankfully seemed enough for the ache in his head to disappear.

"Is it because of Alfred?" His friend suddenly blurted out and it made him turn his head and stare up in surprise. He was not able to give the other an answer once again, earning him a sigh.

Arthur casted his eyes away from Francis, deciding that his fingers were a hundred times better to stare at than the other. Everything came rushing back to him, not that he actually forgot what happened. There was no way he could just flush everything down the toilet in the first place.

"You still haven't told me what happened."

"It is not that much of a fight. Stop worrying." He crossed his arms and then pinched the bridge of his nose. "It isn't like we kicked each other or anything. Everything is pretty much fine."

"Except you." Francis replied almost too quickly, and when Arthur rolled his eyes at him, he sighed and shook his head.

The reason why Arthur did not want to tell Francis was because he already knew what the other was surely going to tell him after he learned what happened. The day before was hectic beyond imagination and Francis could testify to that. Alfred fetched from the gates, and by habit they went for a short drive around the city, ate dinner and spared another hour of just walking around aimlessly before the American finally brought him home.

Except, they never made it to his building because Arthur ran away when he saw Alfred kissing someone else, or rather, someone was kissing Alfred but there was not much of a difference for the Englishman.

He still remembered exactly how everything went that night, and he was sure he saw Alfred push the woman away before spotting him standing from a fair distance, enough to receive a V.I.P. view of the scene. He was sure that the American did not intentionally kiss someone else, that there was a plausible reason behind it, that his loyalty still remained untarnished. He knew that Alfred was not that kind of guy, but even so he ran away without even hearing what the American had to say despite not really having the need to say anything because Arthur fully understood the situation. He lingered long enough to know that Alfred was not romantically affiliated to that person in any way, yet it still hurt to see those lips touch someone else's. It drove him mad, it made him mad.

"I'm completely fine."Arthur drummed his fingers on the table a few times before turning to check the time on his wrist watch. It was already late in the afternoon but it was far too early yet to go home.

"You collided with the faculty's door this morning." Francis stated in a low and seemingly bored voice, and upon instinct, Arthur rubbed the part of his forehead which came to painful contact with said door. "You were not responding to most of the people who tried to talk to you. Most of the time, you stare at nothing, hear nothing, you're so distant mon ami. Even to me."

He looked up and met Francis' knowing gaze. This pissed him off greatly for some reason. Everything the Frenchman said was embarrassingly true and he really did not like his idiocy be preached before him. Standing up, Arthur gathered notes and pen from the table before pushing the chair back into the gap meant for it.

"I'm tired. I'm going home." He calmly stated, but he was sure that Francis caught his desire to no longer continue their conversation. The other simply shook his head as Arthur walked past him.

When Arthur reached the lobby of the building, he could not help but feel very disappointed to not see Alfred waiting for him like usual. But then again, as of the moment there was no need to, and with his current predicament, he was not in the position to demand something from the other. He denied Alfred of communication since that night even when he had no right to. Arthur just wanted to melt on the spot and lament on his stupid and selfish actions.

He at least would want to see a bit of effort from the other man's side.

He could say the same to himself.

Still though, seeing an Alfred-less place definitely made him feel down.

Arthur decided to take a stroll around the city for just a bit. Going straight home would make him lonelier.

The sun was beginning to set as the orange hues in the sky loomed over the high rise buildings. As if life enjoyed making fun of him as a hobby, couples sprung here and there wherever he turned and they reminded him how alone he was right now. He looked around him, reading the signs that suddenly were not familiar to him, and roads which looked different but he was sure he saw them before. He just could not remember.

It was that certain point when he standing in the middle of a crowded street, lost and alone, when he realized how lost he was without Alfred. It was at that moment when he learned that his whole life had attached itself to the American he grew to love over a day, and fell in love with deeper and deeper as time slowly, quickly passed by. It was that very minute of realization when he took his phone out, turned it on, and decided that his hands were too cold to be left untouched.

He tried to dial Alfred's number, yet his trembling fingers refused to move. His lips quivered in the cold. As much as he willed himself to press against the lit screen, nothing happened. It was like something was preventing him from doing anything that would connect him back with Alfred, as if there was something against the idea of him seeing his beloved American again. Time was running, and later on so did Arthur's tears. He found himself staring at his phone as he cried silently on his spot, but even if he was not making any noise, people still took notice of him. But he did not care about them, he did not even know that he was currently being the center of attention of the passersby. Because all he cared about right now was to be able to talk to Alfred, to hear the other's voice again, to tell him how sorry he was for not even giving the man the chance to talk even if there was no explaining to do because he understood everything fully.

Arthur just wanted to tell the other how much he loved him, and that he had arrived to a dangerous point where he would be willing to let Alfred get away with anything, _anything_, if it guaranteed him a lifetime of being with him.

A warm hand landed on his shoulder out of the blue and turned his body to face the other direction. He was too focused on his phone to feel surprised about the sudden movement, but when his eyes trailed up and were met with a familiar face, his heart beat turned rapid and he lost complete control of his hands. His phone fell and dropped with a healthy cracking sound on the ground. Everyone else but Arthur and the man before him notice this happen. The world around them seemed to stop.

"Alfred."

"Arthur."

Warm fingers cupped his cold cheeks and gently wiped away the tears that stained them. His mute cries became audible as hiccups and short breaths surfaced. As Alfred tried to stop the tears by getting rid of every persistent drop, never did they lose eye contact. People were looking at them both; some looked disgusted, some looked touched, and some did not even give a damn just the way they both liked it. Arthur pursed his lips in an attempt to stop the sobbing sounds he inevitably emitted. It was embarrassing as hell to be seen crying in front of everyone, most especially in front of Alfred who suddenly just pulled him in one tight yet gentle hug.

"Sshh…" He felt Alfred's fingers stroking his hair as the other arm firmly held him in place, making him feel safe and warm.

"I got lost." Arthur stated in between sobs as he buried himself in the taller man's chest. The warmth from the other's skin that passed through the other's thin shirt warmed his freezing cheeks, and the tears that fell from his eyes were quickly absorbed into nothingness by the wrinkled clothing Alfred wore.

"I'm sorry." He felt those strong arms wrap around him tighter and tighter until he almost lost his breath, but he did not complain. He dared not complain. The last thing he wanted was for Alfred to release him back in the cold, alone and lost and not himself. "I am so, so sorry for what happened. I shouldn't have let her kiss me. I shouldn't have let my guard down. I should've chased after you like, chase really fast and I shouldn't have stopped running midway."

Arthur's fingers curled against Alfred's chest, a deep and warm breath escaping his lips as he took in everything that his lover told him. His heart could not help but beat faster and feel heavier because he knew that Alfred was apologizing for nothing, that it was not the bespectacled man's fault for being such an irresistible dork.

"You idiot." His voice was soft and squeaky from crying. "Stop apologizing because you did nothing wrong."

"No! That's not true!" Alfred's voice rose to his surprise, and he could feel the man's fingers digging through the fabric of his sweater vest as the blond's fists clenched. "I should've pushed her away, Arthur! Like, pushed away the moment she talked to me. I should've… I should've punched her!" The American exclaimed and the idea he spat made Arthur's eyes wide in surprise. He was not expecting to hear something so violent from Alfred's mouth, more so the idea of hitting a girl. "I would punch anyone for you, Arthur. Anyone. Just tell me, alright? Like that guy, do you want me to punch that guy?"

"No!" Arthur pushed himself away from the other's chest yet not fully escaping the man's arms. He looked up at a teary-eyed Alfred who actually looked serious about what he said, yet there was hesitation in his eyes. Just by looking at him, Arthur knew that even if it was wrong, even if it was against his will, Alfred would not hesitate to punch a random person if it would make the Brit happy. Arthur flicked a finger on the taller blond's forehead before cupping those cheeks in his now warm hands. "Alfred Jones, do you even hear yourself? You are not going to punch anyone in the face, ever."

"But—"

"I'm sorry." Arthur's eyes softened and tears that momentarily stopped lingered at the corner of his eyes, ready to dash down his cheeks any given moment. "It's all my fault. I did not misunderstand anything. I know, I _know_ that you will never hurt me, Alfred. I know it. I saw everything from start to finish, and even when I knew the truth, I got too emotional and let my heart lead me instead of my brain. I'm really sorry for running away from you. I shouldn't have, and now I promise you that I never will." Arthur bit his lip as his hands began to tremble once again as he gently touched Alfred's face. "I promise to never leave you."

Alfred only stared at him with mildly surprise eyes and he could see his on reflection in the lightness of those blue irises. He waited for him to say something because as the seconds passed, he felt more and more embarrassed as they had been attracting quite a lot of attention for the past minutes now.

And then Alfred leaned down swiftly and kissed him, earning them both everyone's full attention much to Arthur's pleasant shock and horror. There were faint cheers mixed with a few whispers of disgust but everything suddenly just went blank and his whole world could see nothing but Alfred, and only Alfred who slowly and reluctantly pulled away to give him another bone-crushing embrace.

"Everyone is looking." He mumbled as he peered from above Alfred's shoulders.

"Let them," Alfred chuckled. "So they would all know that I'm yours and no one's gonna try to kiss me again!"

Arthur's already flushed face turned redder at the statement his lover dropped, and the beating of his heart intensified. His mind was full of Alfred, Alfred, Alfred, and Alfred, and the warmth inside him burst like fireworks through his veins. He was happy, extremely so, and this was the happiest day of his life… so far. His breathing pattern slowed down and went back to normal. He felt safe in Alfred's arms. The security he felt rivaled no one else's and as he closed his eyes, he could feel the steady rhythm of the American's breathes, contrary to the other's rapid heartbeat, something he also felt minutes ago. But he was alright now. He was calm and there was nothing to worry about. There was nothing else to feel but heaven, and he could imagine the whole world closing in on them, leaving the others behind. The comfort, the safety, he could fall asleep right then and there in Alfred's arms with a huge smile on his face. Then slowly, ever so slowly he drifted away into the dream world and into nothingness that everything was just black, all black and silent and his arms went limp and his knees gave up and he fell just like that in a second's notice.

Alfred felt the weight in his arm become heavier.

"Arthur?"

There was no response, and when he tried to pull away, there was only a seemingly lifeless puppet in his arms except the pale body took in slow inhales of air, the only sign that it was alive.

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**I am veeeerrryyyy extreeeemmeeellly sorry for the late update. For those who are asking, this fic might reach 10-12 chapters only. **

**It's so hard to write mushy, innocent stuff but I'm doing my best! Thanks for the wonderful feedback and if you guys have any more questions, clarifications, suggestions, advice and tips (I really need those for this one) just drop a review or message me.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Warning for cheesy stuff and inaccurate medical thingies. **

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**Part 6: The Calm**

Needless to say, Alfred felt panic kick him in the gut when Arthur's legs jellied lifeless.

He tried to shake the man awake and it was then that he noticed the pair of dark, abysmal circles under the other blond's eyes. So along with panic, he felt guilt poking him painfully in the chest, telling him that he should have exerted more effort.

He should have tried harder.

But at least, with those god-forsaken eye bags, Alfred felt a little bit at ease knowing that Arthur was not dead, merely fast asleep. His whole body shut down brought by the sleepless nights that Alfred was really unhappy for becoming a part of it. It may not be his entire fault that Arthur fell in such a weary state, but the fact that he had a major contribution to Arthur's already stressful life (he was positive about it) was something he deemed next to unforgivable.

Those soft cheeks that were always tainted with red whenever he was around were now so pale, making Arthur appear so weak and fragile that the softest touch would shatter his being. The Englishman's supposedly pink lips were dry, white, and trembling.

And then Arthur was shaking, subtle at first that Alfred thought it was only from the chilly air, but gradually it grew disturbingly stronger.

"Arthur?" He was not able to register what exactly was happening at first, but as Arthur's face contorted into that of great discomfort, eyes shot open and white as they rolled back, arms and legs violently jerking beyond his control, the panic he felt grew a hundred fold and he found himself shouting Arthur's name and then shouting at everyone, commanding no specific person to call 911.

He did not know how long it took before he heard the sirens screeching down the streets but it di not matter if it was an hour or merely minutes that passed before Arthur was pried off him because for Alfred, it felt like years of waiting. And when expert hands took the shaking man away from him, he was reluctant to let go. He ended up being pushed away before someone shoved him inside the ambulance just so he stopped thrashing out. Holding Arthur's hands in his proved to be calming enough for him to at least reduce the panicked shouts from moments ago to concerned mumbles.

If waiting for the ambulance felt like years, the trip to the hospital felt like an eternity. The person beside him kept talking about the seizure lasting for more than five minutes already and with the way those eyebrows furrowed (because they were all Alfred could see from the person's face given the medical mask), it was something he and the other three people tending to Arthur should really, really worry about.

"Sir, are you his family? What's his name?" The woman beside him asked, eyes very much-focused on Arthur as her hands held the unconscious blond's head gently in place.

"Arthur Kirkland and n-no, but I'm his—"

"Are you close? How long have you known him?" How long? He knew exactly how long because, creepiness aside, he had in fact been keeping tract for dorky, sentimental reasons. But now when the information was greatly needed (he never expected it to be), he cannot produce an answer. His mind was blank as worry and fear ate his thoughts.

"I—"

"Is this his first time having a seizure?" The woman asked again without waiting for his answers to the previous questions. He stared at Arthur, holding his jerking hand tightly in his before he shook his own head.

"No." He bit his lip, confused eyes softening to a questioning look toward the Englishman.

"_I was a healthy child, well I still am." _Arthur told him once during one of their random, midnight conversations when Alfred slept over the smaller blond's apartment. "_Never had those pesky chicken pox, never had a nosebleed, never fainted. I never even had more than one pimple on my face! And do you know why?_"

"_Why?_" He asked just to humor the man to which Arthur rolled on his stomach to meet his eyes, a smug smile on his face.

"_It's because I do eat my veggies,_" Arthur poked him on the cheek before eyeing the junk food in his hands which he was about to open. "_unlike you. How many times do I have to tell you not to eat those messy, unhealthy things on my bed?_"

"We're here!"

The bright lights the beamed from the emergency entrance pulled Alfred back down from his flashbacks. As Arthur was rolled out of the vehicle, the shaking subsided yet the man remained unconscious which was obviously still not a good sign judging from the way the way the Brit was hastily wheeled inside the ER. Of course, Alfred followed suit but he did not go as far as to where Arthur was settled, doctors and nurses frantically checking his pulse rate and vital signs, inserting a needle at the back of his hand. They blocked Alfred midway, forcing him to wait outside despite his forceful demands and his yells of protest were reduced to silent prayers.

_It was just a seizure, _he told himself, _it was just brought by extreme fatigue, emotional stress. _Once more, he let guilt eat his mind and heart and at that very moment. The sound of scurrying footsteps and beeping machines were deafening, only adding up to the anxiety that made his insides tremble.

_Arthur's not gonna die, _he mumbled. It was just a simple seizure, one that unbelievably lasted for more than five minutes but it was normal. It was not out of the ordinary and he was sure that half of the world's population experienced more-than-five-minute seizures so there was no reason for him to be scared. He was simply over thinking things and it was scaring him how much he was fussing over a simple case of fainting and shaking. Alfred was a calm man and he knew that for himself so everything, from the sweat down his neck to his fast blinking eyes, it was all very uncharacteristic of him.

The over worrying part was supposed to be Arthur's expertise and not his.

"_Alfred! You idiot I told you not to stray your eyes away! You're going to cut yourself!"_

"_I'm a grown man, Artie! And I've done this plenty of times before!"_

"_Even so, if you do not focus you are going to slice your fingers sooner or later."_

"_It's a peeler and this is a potato. They can't hurt me."_

"_You underestimate them."_

"_No I don't! Besides, it's your entire fault."_

"_Oh really? Enlighten me."_

"_You're too cute for me not to look—ah! Oh my god! My hand's bleeding!"_

"_Oh gods! I told you to pay attention now look at what happened to you you bloody idiot!"_

"…_was that a pun?"_

"…_if you do not wish to harbor any additional injuries then I suggest you shut your mouth. Now wait here while I fetch the band aids upstairs."_

Alfred felt himself relaxing at the memory, but the very second he closed his eyes, his attention was called.

"Excuse me?"

His head perked up and upon seeing the man clad in green medic uniform, he stood up attentively, eyes wary and waiting for the good news and _only _the good news. Alfred tried to commandeer fate by limiting the options.

"You are Mr. Kirkland's family?"

"No. They're all up in England. I'm his boyfriend though, and the only loved one he's got as of the moment."

The doctor or nurse (he really could not tell) nodded in understanding as he scribbled some details on piece of paper filled with lines and boxes.

"He stopped shaking and is now in better condition. However, he has not gained consciousness yet." The man stopped writing, pocketed his black Parker pen, and then lowered the surgical mask down his chin before extending a hand towards Alfred who shook it with equal firmness, lips still in a thin line. "Doctor Ludwig Beilschmidt."

"Alfred Jones."

"Follow me."

The whole place was just as busy and chaotic as always but Alfred knew that he had just been spared from joining the franticness as the look on the doctor's face, no matter how stern and stoic it may be, was actually reassuring. It was not on a daily basis that Alfred was around with an uptight man such Beilschmidt, but he knew what kind of face could be trusted and what was not. This man that was leading him towards Arthur showed no signs of sugarcoating anything.

"I heard that it was his first time having a fit." Ludwig walked on the other side of the bed and adjusted a few wires while Alfred pulled a vacant plastic chair to sit beside the now calmed man. "How long have you known each other?"

"Few months, enough for me to know almost everything about him though." Alfred gently held Arthur's dextrose-free hand, thumb rubbing against its back soothingly even if he was not sure that it could affect the Englishman's current state for the better. He failed to see the way Ludwig eyed him, rather, his action in particular.

"I see." Was the answer he got after a long pause. "We'll be transferring him to another room for now until he wakes up. It's too loud in here for the both of you." When Alfred raised a brow in question, Ludwig cleared his statement. "I doubt you will be leaving his side until he wakes up, and he's not going to do so any sooner I suspect. I also wish to speak to you about something and this place is hardly appropriate for such discussion."

The tone in his voice and the way he laid the words out made Alfred nervous. Sensitive as he was, the doctor was able to sense the mild distress.

"Rest assured that he is already safe." He looked at the Englishman whose breathing was already even. Any signs of what had happened earlier left no trace. "I will be handling the preparations. You can stay here until I or someone calls you."

"Okay," Alfred smiled, relief now washing over him and Ludwig gave him a curt nod before he was left alone with Arthur.

The noise that surrounded them was supposedly irritating but it all drowned away as he stared at Arthur's serene face for longer. The skin was still pale but it was not as pale as before. At least, some color resurfaced on Arthur's lips. If it were any other circumstance, he already would have kissed them senseless.

Alfred did not know how much time had passed. It seemed the losing track of the minutes was becoming more and more of a habit and it was not even the end of the day. A gentle pat on the shoulder had him awake and a gentle, understanding smile greeted him.

"Mr. Jones?" He looked up, eyes blinking slowly on focus until the woman's masked face was clear to his eyes. He adjusted his glasses, pushing it up a bit on the bridge of his nose.

"Yes?"

"Please follow me."

Follow? When the meaning of the word registered in his brain, he turned his head and noticed that the bed beside him already lost its occupant. The discovery snapped him fully awake and he stood up before he turned to face the nurse who only looked back at him, composed.

"We are transferring the patient to a semi-private room seeing that he will not be staying here for long." She spoke continuously, explaining what was needed to explain without giving him the chance to voice out his queries though Alfred felt relieved for it. "He'll be out of here the moment he wakes up. Now please, this way Mr. Jones."

She led him along the white hallways where hope and dread often met. The strong smell of medicine and disinfectants wafted in the air and Alfred wished that it would not take soon before they arrived to where Arthur was transferred. It irked him though that they did not wake him up before hand but he chose to remain quiet about, thoughts being occupied by the Englishman's state which was something he should not be worrying about much as he was told.

After walking in silence with nothing but the clacks of their shoes to accompany them, the nurse paused before a door and opened it for him, urging him to go inside before her. When he entered, Ludwig was already there, no longer wearing the green uniform as the tall blond was now embraced by a neat looking lab gown, hair slicked back and not a strand dared stand up.

His eyes immediately drifted down the figure on the bed whose green eyes were looking at him expectantly and it was as if the darkness that cloaked him minutes ago completely dissolved.

"Arthur!" He exclaimed as he rushed towards the man's bedside, hands finding themselves cupping Arthur's cheeks. "You're awake! My god I thought you'll never—"

"Don't be silly, Alfred." The Englishman pinched the bridge of his nose and adjusted his glasses which almost fell off. "It was just a seizure."

"Now you're being silly!" Alfred shook his head and sat at the edge of Arthur's bed, sighing as he leaned forward, burying his face on Arthur's bony shoulder. "It's not _just_ a seizure when it involves you."

"And you accuse me of being a worry-wart." Arthur scoffed, the usual playful smile on his face that Alfred was very familiar of was back in its rightful place. Chuckling, he pinched the bridge of Arthur's nose.

"I doubt you'll be able to handle the situation better if you were in my place." Alfred teased and Arthur rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to say something back but then their exchange was interrupted by Ludwig clearing his voice in an obvious attempt to gain their attentions. It also served as a reminder that they currently were not alone inside the room and were in fact graced with the presence of two other human beings—the nurse and him.

"Dr. Beilschmidt has explained everything to me." Arthur turned gratefully towards the doctor and Ludwig took it as a cue to start the discussion he promised Alfred earlier. Glancing briefly at the chart he cradled in his arm, which helped in giving him a very professional, and respectable look, one that would cause any person to not question whatever he was going to say. Alfred gave him a curt nod as a cue for the doctor to speak.

"You said Mr. Kirkland never had seizures before and he confirmed that it was indeed his first time." Doctor Ludwig moistened his lips. "Let me be direct— there is a big possibility that Mr. Arthur Kirkland here may be suffering from a neurotic condition that needs to be attended to as soon as possible. I wouldn't want to take chances. I will be sending you home today. The patient needs to rest, however, I will be requiring you to return tomorrow for some tests."

"What kind of tests?" Alfred's face contorted with worry but his partner seemed to feel the opposite as he took notice of Arthur's infamous eye-roll before the doctor answered his question.

"I recommended a doctor for him— Doctor Feliciano Vargas. He will be doing a regular check-up on Mr. Kirkland before he goes through MRI. Are you familiar with that?" Alfred nodded his head. "Good. That saves time."

"Will that be all, doctor?" Arthur interrupted before the American across him could even ask another question, which he was sure, will lead to another unnecessary set of explanations.

"For today, yes." The Brit sensed the irritation from the doctor's voice when he answered, and he had to purse his lips to prevent a satisfied smirk from forming on his face. The squeeze on his hands made him look at Alfred who, from the way he was looking back at Arthur, perfectly understood what was currently going on inside the Englishman's brain. After flashing him a not so obvious wink, Alfred returned his attention back at the doctor with a genuine smile on his face.

"Thank you very much, doc." The blond stood up and reached over the bed to shake hands with Ludwig.

"You are welcome." Ludwig then turned to Arthur. "I will be seeing you tomorrow." Without waiting for the man's reply (because he actually doubted he would receive one), he gave another nod at Alfred before marching out of the room with the nurse who escorted the bespectacled man moments ago.

And when they were finally alone, Arthur let his body limp in Alfred's arms when the other embraced him. He felt the man's breathe blow against the strands of his hair in relief and he could only curl his fingers on Alfred's shirtsleeves as his heart's pace matched the beat of the taller blond's own.

"It's been a while," Arthur murmured and Alfred kissed his head in response.

"Not the kind of reunion I was expecting though."

"Reunion?" The Brit smiled. "You talk as if we've been apart for too long. It has only been two days."

With that, Alfred pulled away and met Arthur's eyes, a questioning yet smug look displayed on his Adonis-like features.

"You speak as if you didn't miss me at all." An eyebrow rose as Alfred pulled his arms back to himself to cross them but Arthur caught them before they could completely withdraw. At this, the American did not even bother hiding his grin and Arthur could only glare at him half-heartedly in an effort to conceal the embarrassment of his actions. His reddened cheeks gave him out anyway.

"Two days," He said softly that it was almost not possible to hear. "are more than enough for me to miss you. I'm surprised I even got to survive that long."

"You would have died the third day, today."

"I would have."

"And I would've followed." Alfred's tone was dead serious that it scared Arthur. His green eyes widening a fraction before he shook his head, lids blinking rapidly as he looked away with a shaky breath.

"Don't talk like that, idiot." He tried to sound like he was simply joking around, trying to make the heavy atmosphere of nervousness and regret and worry lighter, light enough for his lungs to accept a bountiful amount of oxygen present within the four constricting white walls.

"I really thought I was going to lose you, you know?" Alfred pulled him back, face buried in the man's shirt and scent. He took bit his lips, closed his eyes, and sighed as his own arms snaked around Alfred's broad back.

"You won't, rest assure that you won't." He answered and then pulled away with a reassuring smile on his face, and Alfred believed his words because he meant them from the bottom of his heart. The true dangers that lingered around them, with them inside the room, dangers that the blond man in a white coat had uttered, were pushed way back at the deepest corners of their minds and they were forgotten. Because they were back inside their own little world together, a world where nothing else mattered but each other. A world full of promises of love, and kisses, and sweet promises of forever, and ever, and ever— an eternity. Arthur leaned in, slightly hoisting himself up because of the height difference despite being seated in a leveled hospital mattress. He placed a kiss on Alfred's lips, just a quick peck supposedly but Alfred chased after him to plant a deeper, longer, and sweeter kiss. But the seconds ran along fast and soon they had to pull away before they could lose themselves on a place where it was hardly appropriate to do so.

"I'm tired." Arthur breathed out.

"You are." Alfred's fingers gently wiped the bangs away on the smaller blond's forehead but they refused to oblige and they fell back in place gracefully. "Let's go home. I missed cuddling with you."

"You're shameful." Arthur would've hit Alfred in the arm but his own arm felt so weak so he settled for a scoff. "But I love you still."

"That's right." The American grinned proudly. "And I love you more."

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***wipes sweat* Wew. This was hard to write but I bet that the next chapter would be harder, and then the next after the next would be harder than the last and so on. **

**Thanks for reading! :D :D **


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