Seems like it was yesterday when a heavy blushed Arthur confessed that he loved Alfred on his visit to England. Alfred was naturally hesitant, since it came so out of the blue. Their history wasn't good either, what with the Revolutionary war. But, some way Alfred decided to hang out with Arthur more often, to the other countries delight. In a strange way Arthur could be an affectionate and tender soul once he warmed up to Alfred, however in the same breath is seems Arthur would get so unsure and blush hard dismissing and making excuses for how much he cared for the boy with the big blue eyes.

Alfred had no idea at the time just how much Arthur meant he loved him. Arthur has never been one to express his true feelings that weren't anger or frustration. In an even more confusing way that was how you knew that he cared, though Alfred didn't quite get why the nation couldn't just say what was on his mind. There was a large communication barrier between them. Not to mention the fact of how spacey and distant Arthur could become at any given moment. It was a difficult friendship to say the least.

At first, it was just an unlikely friendship. The two nations were back to being on good terms. It was the usual care and concern in between yelling and shouting. He had been denying his feeling for a long time the both of them. Then one day, Alfred got it. Friends became lovers.

An awkward first date became several dates in a blur. Hand holding went from a difficult gesture to an everyday exchange between the two countries. Affectionate nicknames like "Iggy" and "Love" became adopted. Tender touches became commonplace. A day didn't go by without a kiss on the cheek. The two reunited wherever their bosses would let them and Alfred would stay with Arthur. In the dark, passion flourished with breathy words and intense kisses with love bites. It was heavenly.

One day, when Arthur is being distant, Alfred got on a diet. Arthur begins staying later at the pubs longer and longer while Alfred was away in America. When Alfred did come back to England, everything has changed. Arthur didn't go on dates with him, hand holding is discouraged and he down right avoids hand holding. The nicknames are dropped for their formal names. There are no kisses or tender touches. There is no passion in the night, instead frustration and anger breeds in their place while they sleep in separate rooms. Most of the time, Arthur drunk out of his mind. He is shouting and whining about how much things had changed between them in every drunken stupor. What has changed so much?

Alfred is a hero, and hero's do not give up when times get tougher. Like when their boyfriend acts up and decides to nearly end the relationship. But, even the best of heroes need a side-kick sometimes. Alfred needs one right now, before they loose everything they work so hard for. While Arthur is sleeping off a drinking binge, Arthur calls someone up on his cell phone. It is Francis on the other line.

"Ah, hello Alfred. So nice to hear from you my friend. How can I help you?" the Frenchman inquires.

"Francis, we have a problem over here." Alfred says in a serious tone. "Arthur is thinking about breaking up with me."

"What? But I though you two patched that up. You did not seem yourself at the last world conference though. That might explain things. Do not worry my American friend, Francis knows everything about these matters."

"Dude, that's the only reason I called you." Alfred says bluntly.

"So, what was Arthur saying before he wanted to break up with you, Alfred. He is hard to read I know."

"Well, he was drunk and he said things changed between us. Whatever that means." Aflred is in confusion about how quick things began to change.

"I see." He says thinking. "Alfred, have you done anything lately that you hadn't done previously?"

"...I might have gone on a little diet, not that I need to or anything. But, yea that's it."

"Hm, maybe there is something that Arthur is hiding, or maybe..." Francis begins. "There is something you are not telling me Alfred." He is implying terrible things about Alfred

"I—I am so telling you everything!" Alfred yells into the cell phone.

"You're voice tells me otherwise." Francis says. "Just admit it, you have a secret. But you can tell me. I keep things hush hush."

"Like I would tell you, French guy." He will not listen to him.

"Then, at least tell Arthur. If you want to save you relationship, that is."

For some reason, Alfred will do anything at this point to have his old Iggy back. Even tell him something he really will not like to hear. Something Alfred will rather die than say aloud. He's been keeping it from Arthur since their relationship began to escalate to love.

Alfred sighs. "Okay dude. Thanks."

"My pleasure. Hope it all works out." Francis says.

Alfred clicks off the line and places his cell back into his oversized bomber jacket.

He goes into the bathroom, takes off his glasses and runs the faucet. He splashes water on his face before staring at himself in the mirror in silence for a long time to gain composure. He gives himself a pep-talk. Not that he needed it at all, but just to be sure.

"It's okay dude, everything will work out okay. You're the hero right? Heroes always get their happy ending." Alfred says before toweling his face off and putting his glasses back on.

He walks to Arthur's room with his chin high. Just say one little thing, and everything will be better. Besides if Arthur could cast spells and talk to imaginary creatures, Alfred could like weird stuff too. His confidence is back to it's highest when he opens the door to find Arthur tossing and turning in bed. When the light hits his eyes he pulls his bed's blanket over his eyes.

"Yo Arthur! I wanna talk to ya." Alfred beams.

"Go the hell away you—you whatever you are." He slurs heavily as he turns away from Alfred.

"Listen man, I don't know what happened," Alfred begins as he walks to the bed and pulls the covers away from Arthur. He's too drunk to put up a fight. His clothes are all disheveled and half way undone while his hair is just a complete mess. "But, we gotta talk this out."

"No we don't n—now just bugger off." Arthur turns his face to Alfred to reveal he's been crying as evidence by the tear stains on his face. Alfred just sits on the side of the bed and keeps talking.

"Look, I don't know what happened while I was gone but, I'm sorry, okay? So like stop getting so drunk over it." Alfred is actuallys worries about his drinking most of the time.

"Yah don't get it you—you—person." He keeps slurring. "I loved you and you go and change on me—just—just like before," He almost bursts into tears.

"How did I change? Dude, I'm still your hero, remember? " Alfred tries to calm him down. He suceeds and Arthur continues on.

"I can—cannot shag a stick." He slurs.

"Dude you are really not making any sense at this point." What did a stick have to do with this?

"You—are-are too blooming skinny." He slurs, but realizes what he says. "Wait—I-I don't mean that. Ignore me!" He tries to yell.

What?

"Arthur you are so drunk you don't even know what you're saying." Alfred tries to dismiss the confession. After all, he is drunk. Then, Arthur weakly grasps his collar and drags it toward his face. The older nation means business.

"Stop being so—so stupid." He sounds more serious. "I loved you as a fat bastard and no—now look at you! You too freakin' skinny you bloke. I can't s—shag that." He confesses. "I'm sorry."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait. Hold up." Alfred is trying in desperation to understand this. "You liked me fat. More than you like me skinny?" He knows that Arthur cannot lie when he is drunk like this.

Arthur tries to smack the younger nation but misses by a mile. "Do—Do I have to say it in a dif—different language? Ye—yes you bloody stupid git."

"So that's what you were babbling on about that I didn't listen to. That's what changed!"

Arthur just nods his head. He then sits up and starts trying to smack Alfred hundreds of time. "Why couldn't you just stay the same! What was wrong with you you git! Why don't you tell me anything anymore! I would have told you no!" He madly slurs.

"Dude, you should have just told me. It's not like I enjoy being on a diet or anything." Alfred admits.

He continues. "Actually, It would be awesome not to have to be on one. Thanks man!"

Alfred sits up and leaves the bedroom, leaving Arthur to fall asleep in his drunkenness as the drunk nation flops his head on the bed mumbling something.

The morning after Arthur's drunken confession, Alfred made the heroic decision to go off his diet to keep his relationship with Arthur. After all, he had a fast metabolism, right? Alfred did miss having things like sugary cereals and donuts with coffee for breakfast. Or even better, fast food breakfasts! Those are the best in his opinion. He wishes Arthur could actually cook something without burning it to a crisp. But, he decides to go to the nearest fast food join to pick up something for him and Arthur. But, when he arrives to the quaint English house, Arthur still isn't up.

He puts the food bags on the small dining room table. He is probably just spaced out and confused out of his mind right now.

"Yo! Arthur! Breakfast!" He yells in the direction of Arthur's room. After a while there is an angry response.

"Shut up!" Arthur yells down the hall. "Stop yelling it hurts!"

"I thought you were on a diet because you are a fat arse!" He yells again getting closer to the dining room in his house.

"Not anymore!" Alfred yells back.

Arthur stumbles a bit into the dining room. He looks like a walking mess, his terrible messy blonde hair, bushy brows, his clothes all stained with some beer and clothes undone and full of wrinkles. But he has a smirk on his face.

"Couldn't take it could you? I knew it. Once a fat arse, always a fat arse." He Arthur says with satisfaction. He has a throbbing headache but that wouldn't stop him from enjoying this.

Alfred would let him have it. "Yep, totally broke down. Now eat your food." He says pointing at the second bag.

Arthur just sits down and arranges his breakfast, while Alfred just sits down and frantically tears into the sack. How undignified. Arthur eats his breakfast quite slow and delicately in nature while Alfred scarfs it down like he hasn't eaten in days. Arthur just sighs as he continues eating. He thought he has taught the nation better than that. Too busy coddling him he supposes.

"You know" Alfred says in between huge bites of pancakes. "I thought I would have to tell you my no so awesome secret." He puts in another huge piece. "But, you totally spilled it man."

"What did I spill Alfred? Mum's scone recipe?" Arthur says trying to hide the worry in his voice. Beer is his truth serum, you could get anything out of him with enough pints.

"You hate me skinny, so I stopped my diet for you." Alfred polishes off his meal. "I didn't know you liked that kinda thing Arthur. But hey! Whatever, no diet, woo!" Alfred put his arms up in happiness.

Arthur nearly choked to death on his breakfast but eventually swallowed. "I said what exactly?" He puts down his fork.

"Something about loving me when I was fat and that you can't shag skinny people." Alfred says obliviously waving his utensil around.

Arthur's jaw just drops. His heavily guarded secret was out in the open. It was more indecent that hugging the Queen of England.

"Shag?" He trembles. "I—I didn't mean that, I was just humoring you git!" He snaps back.

"No man, you meant it. You don't lie when your drunk off your as-"

He will not let Alfred finish that sentence. "Those are lies!" Arthur objects. "Besides what do you know. Nothing in that empty head of yours." He mocks.

"I know what changed between you and me, I went on a diet so you went pub happy about it." Alfred says, getting more of the fattening food from another bag.

"I did no such thing." Arthur says with dignity, placing a hand on his chest. "I am a gentleman."

"Who likes bigger gentlemen." Alfred counters between his bites.

"Will you shut up you bloody idiot! Where is the off button on you?"

"Jokes on you cause I was gonna tell you that I like dudes in woman's clothing so the egg is on your face!" Alfred laughs before realizing he said his dirty secret out loud.

"Oh shit!" He blurts out, dropping his fork in shock. "Dude, I wasn't thinking!" He covers his mouth.

Arthur just sits there smiling, arms crossing. Now he couldn't tell a single soul without him telling too. He is putty in his hands. The former pirate knows that this secret is safe.

"Stop that! I so do not." Alfred defends himself, balling up his hands into fists.

"Tell you what Alfred, now that I have you by the bollocks, how about we keep these secrets between us." He smiles mischievously. "You shut up about it, and I will too. On one condition..." His grin gets wider.

Alfred's confidence leaves him completely. This isn't going to end well between them. He is scared to death of what the Englishman is going to say next. Please, just don't mention anything. He's the hero.

"...Do what you do best you glutton. Get fat. You bloody pig." Arthur declares with an aura of superiority. He laughs, this game is set and match. The American's weakness is his weight and Arthur will exploit it to no end.

For once in a long time, the hero is unsure. One one hand, he can just go along with what Arthur is suggesting and get his relationship back, on the other, he can keep his dignity and his diet. He is silent for a long time. This is a serious situation that requires a lot of thinking, and Alfred wasn't about to be playing this game with Arthur. Then again, he knows for a fact that he hides his true feelings through his words often. So, maybe it will not be as bad as he thinks it will be. He makes a bold decision.

"Yes!" He says "I'll do it!" He's back to his old self in no time flat.

Arthur isn't expecting that. "What?" He begins to blush at the thoughts running around his head. A larger lover would be bliss. Sure, he is great already, but...that will be even better. Bloody fantastic even. He is having difficulty not smiling so he covers his mouth.

"I—I thought you didn't want that." He forces out. "What, do you have no dignity?"

Alfred is just beaming. "Not for you Iggy." He continues, picking up the fork and scarfing down the food.

His blush is redder as it spreads ear from ear. "Don't—Do not call me that! You have not right!" He scolds. It is has been too long since he heard the American say his nickname for him. His heart is beating so fast, it's about to explode. Would he really do so much for a washed up person like him? After all they are going through? He must be an idiot to agree to it, but Alfred is his idiot.

"T—Thank you but you really shouldn't. It's not good for you—Not that I'm thinking about your welfare in this situation!" Arthur snaps.

Alfred just smiles with his big blues behind thin glasses. "I don't care!" He says with pride shoving a piece of food in his mouth.

"See? This is why you Americans are so damn fat." Arthur says pointing at how much he's eating.

Alfred just laughs knowing he's done right if Iggy is mad about it. Then he remembers what he had just blurted out a few minutes ago. He gets weak in the knees.

"You aren't gonna tell anyone are you?" Alfred pleads, putting the plastic fork down.

"No." Arthur replies. "In fact, maybe—no it's a ludicrous idea." Arthur stops himself to Alfred's dismay.

"What? Come on man don't leave me hanging! This is important!" Alfred yells.

"Maybe..." Arthur is thinking about something, hard.

Their relationship is good, but it can be better. If Alfred is going to the ends of the earth, should he return the favor and humor him at least? Not that he's doing it for his benefit. It's just what a gentleman does. He returns good favors.

Alfred's happiness matters too.

"...Maybe I could do that for you?—Don't you over do it though!" He yells. "I'm not about to be a Nancy boy for you git!"

"Do what? Dude speak English!" Alfred lacks understanding of Arthur's proposal. Maybe Arthur should stop the British slang for a bit.

He just stands up, reaching across the table to grab at the American's jacket and pulling him in closer and yells at the top of his lungs "I'll dress up for you, you bloody idiot! There! Is that small enough for you to understand!"

Arthur immediately takes it back, but he doesn't let go of the jacket. His touch is more tender. "I—I didn't mean that." He laughs nervously. Did he really says that aloud?

"Just, just for our relationship. It's what a gentleman does." He explains it away letting go of Alfred's bomber jacket in hesitation. He could hold on to him forever.

Alfred just is having stars in his eyes. "You'd do it? Dude that's awesome!" He sequels. He frantically searches in his jacket for something. Once he finds it he pulls it out a photograph and forces it in front of Arthur's eyes, despite his babbling on and protests.

Arthur looks at the the photo and rips it out his hands. This isn't happening. He is going to wake from his drunken stupor and this will all be over.

It is an old photograph, probably after World War II. It was of a housewife in pointed toe stiletto heels. Wearing a dress with short sleeves and a fluffy skirt that only fluffs out from several petticoats. She has stockings with a line in the back held up by a tight girdle, Arthur assumes. Her knockers come to a point, making her bosoms look huge under her small coke-of-beads collar. Must be the bras of the time. Her hair has been permed into curls, with cat eye glasses to accent her earrings. She has a half apron round her waist with heart shaped pockets and enough fill to kill someone. Alfred wasn't kidding about his secret. Then again, he did close his eyes a lot when they were doing questionable things, is imagining Arthur dressed up like this the whole time? Arthur is actually a bit discouraged at the fact it isn't him as a female pirate or a Victorian woman of questionable virtue. Something sexy. That he might be able to stand. Alfred just wants a British housewife in his arms. It's so...Innocent.

Arthur is desperate to please the anticipation in his big blue eyes. "If you can keep your mouth shut.." Arthur looks around before walking toward the country, whispering in his lover's ear "I'll do it."

"Yes!" Alfred screeches in pure happiness starling Arthur half to death. "You'll be an awesome wife Iggy! I just know it!" Alfred laughs. He stands up at the table. "We'll start today!" He grabs the arm of a protesting Brit while dragging him against his will to the door.

'"Just when did I say that!" Arthur yells. "And what is this we you're taking on about!"

Alfred just snatches Arthur's car keys and drags Arthur out the door to his car, the older nation protesting all the way into the vehicle. Arthur knows for a fact that this is a terrible idea. Yet, If this is what they have been missing their entire relationship, Arthur would do it no matter what. He will not let Alfred go through his fingers again. Not if he has any say about it. The Brit just buckles his seatbelt and lets himself go along for the ride this American is planning as the blue eyed nation starts the car. Not that Arthur would ever tell Alfred that directly to his face.

"This is gonna be so great!" He says happily. For once, he remembers to drive on the correct side of the road without Arthur's nagging.

Just let the boy enjoy himself for a little while. Then, be the adult and stop it. Easy enough. But, maybe once this determined hero got going, stopping it will be harder than Arthur would expect. They are going in deep into uncharted territory with their fragile relationship. Hopefully, this big change will not break it, but bring them closer. Arthur could manage, he is a strong country.

He just worries about Alfred.

Hello dear readers! Odd fangirl here. First time writing two kinks in one, weight gain and crossdressing you lucky ducks.

This time around it's UKUS. Because, to me, Britain will always top. Always. For some reason I think it's more logical to have the older nation be the more dominate one in the relationship.

If anyone is OCC or lacking in personality, please let me know.

So! If you enjoy this story so far, please review dear reader! Favorites and Follows are much appreciated. This will be multiple chapters so the fun doesn't end here.