Written for archangelunmei for aphsecretsanta's Hetalia Rarepair Exchange of 2017 on tumblr. The pairing I chose was NedEng with the prompt "General fluff and sweetness". The fluff is there but with a rather lengthy historical and cultural background … I hope that's okay, and I hope you'll enjoy reading your gift (even more so since the gift I received from you was so adorable)! Also, I'm so, so sorry for the delay!

Flushing (Vlissingen), late 16th century

England was sitting at the desk in his bedchamber, skimming a few letters envoys had brought to him. It was a quiet night. Of course there were guards on patrol through the city and a few lamps were illuminating the otherwise dark patio in front of his window. To England, these were familiar sights and sounds. They weren't able to distract him from his work. The sound of a knock at his door, however, was.

"Come in," England called, suspecting already who his late visitor might be.

"Arthur?" The door creaked a little when Jan opened it. He used to be the personification of Holland but had since taken on the leading role among the seven provinces that had defected from Spanish rule.

"Yes, what is it? Do you have any more questions with respect to our planned strategy?" Arthur sounded perhaps brisker than the situation required. The representation of the United Provinces confused him, if he was honest to himself. The teenager with whom he had traded wool in the late Middle Ages had become a grown-up man so fast; much faster than one should have assumed from a country that had only just made his claim for independence.

Then again, the Low Countries had been one of the most prosperous regions, if not the most prosperous region of Europe for a long time. It was to be expected of the lanky teenager he had met so long ago—well, not even that long ago—to grow up into a tall and handsome young man. What was certainly not to be expected, Arthur mused, was the slight flutter in his stomach he felt every time he was reminded just how brave and determined Jan acted when he fought against the Spanish.

Both England and his Queen had had their reservations against an alliance with someone whose status as a sovereign country was debatable. Even if their decision was made, they still wondered if it had been right to endorse Jan's claim for independence. The fact that Jan had grown up so quickly, however, rather proved to Arthur that a bright future was waiting for the United Provinces. One could never be completely sure, but among the likes of them, physical development usually hinted at things to come.

"I do have questions," Jan replied. "Not about strategy. About alliances. Sort of. Do you ... have some time ... or is it better if I come again tomorrow?" He sounded a little nervous.

"It's all right," Arthur assured him. "Is there something in particular you want to know?"

"Well … in a way. It's a thing that's been going round my mind over the past couple of weeks and I don't really know who else to ask…" Jan was still standing awkwardly at the doorframe. Arthur got up from his chair, sitting down on his bed and patting at the space next to him.

"Come sit with me. Make yourself comfortable before we start talking."

"Thank you." Reluctantly, Jan set down next to Arthur who wasn't so sure if making oneself comfortable was supposed to include clasping one's hands nervously in a hunched-over position.

"So you have a question about alliances," Arthur prompted Jan to begin.

"It's a bit complicated…" Jan took a deep breath. "Well, you know Spain and Austria were married to each other when the Habsburgs became rulers of both Antonio's and Roderich's places."

"Yes. But that's a union, not an alliance," Arthur pointed out.

"I'm aware of that, but my question is a different one. So…" Jan sighed. "I feel a bit dumb for asking this, but what if those two have developed feelings for each other over time? Is that the same as when two human men have feelings for each other … I mean, is that sodomy too?"

Ah yes. That kind of talk. Arthur gave an exasperated sigh. Realising Jan might take his annoyance the wrong way, he explained: "I don't think there's a fixed answer to this topic. It's a grey area. Humans, especially rulers, have always emphasised both our difference from themselves and our similarity to humankind depending on what's most convenient for them at a certain moment in time." He shrugged. "I'd say just ask yourself if you can square something with your own conscience and then either do it or don't do it. There's hardly any other way."

"I'm just … not sure," Jan admitted. "I mean … Catholics like them can just do something and then go to confession if they change their minds. Or go to confession regardless of whether they changed their minds." The derision in his voice was unmistakable. "It's not so easy for me as a Calvinist. I can't rid myself of sins just like that."

"Um … If there is someone in particular you had in mind when you came to me, I'd just tell this person about your worries. It's only sodomy if it involves intercourse, you know. That's also a quick way to find out if you actually mean something to him," Arthur added offhandedly. "If you do, he will want to be with you nonetheless. If not…" He snorted. "Quick way to tell if that guy's worth it in the first place."

Who does he have in mind? Arthur didn't even attempt to fight down the jealousy in his heart. He had been thinking about making a move but hesitated because there was always some kind of excuse: After this fight; if we win against the Spaniards this time … if I'm able to worm his thoughts about the matter out of him first. If I'm able to make sure I don't get rejected just because I'm a man and he doesn't fancy men.

Now he had his answer, but it seemed like someone else had been faster than him. Not faster to ask, but faster in winning Jan's heart.

"I'm not sure," Jan said into Arthur's thoughts.

You better not mess with his heart, unknown stranger, Arthur thought grimly. Rest assured you really don't want me to mess with you.

"Is that guy worth it in the first place?" Jan cocked his head to the side.

It took a while until the penny dropped.

"Oh."

How embarrassing to be jealous of oneself. How embarrassing too not to make a connection between Jan's later question and his initial talk about alliances. Arthur hoped his cheeks didn't become too treacherously rosy.

"Can you say something maybe?" Jan fidgeted uncomfortably. "I don't really know what to make of an oh with a stunned expression."

"Oh," Arthur made again. "Sorry." He cleared his throat. "I was just … surprised. Not in a bad way," he added hurriedly. "I'm glad you came here. I've wanted to tell you for quite a while now…" He gave Jan a crooked smile. "Guess that guy's worth it, at least in that respect."

Jan breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing visibly. Arthur took the opportunity that Jan's shoulders were now a bit more slumped and rested his head against the crook of Jan's neck. It fit there quite nicely.

"We could just allow for a bit of physical closeness as a start," Arthur suggested. "I'm going to fetch my paperwork, you bring some of yours, and we're just going to sit like this. Shoulders touching."

"Sounds like a good start." Jan smiled.

Ten minutes later, Jan was sitting on Arthur's bed again, a letter in one hand and the other hand on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur was sitting on the floor, sifting through the letters he had piled on a heap next to him. His back was resting against one of Jan's long legs.

He had seldom felt this at peace with himself.

Notes:

The treaty alluded to in this story is the Treaty of Nonsuch (1585; notice the bad pun in the title) that was signed at Nonsuch Palace in Surrey by Elizabeth I of England (1533-1603; Queen of England and Ireland since 1558) and the leaders of the Dutch revolt against Spain. In this treaty, England agreed to supply the Dutch rebels with soldiers and money. It received two so-called Cautionary Towns for its garrisons, Flushing (Vlissingen in Dutch) and Brill (Brielle/Den Briel).

The position in which England and Netherlands are sitting at the end of the story is inspired by Chapter 7 of Maurice by E. M. Forster: "They walked arm in arm or arm around shoulder now. When they sat it was nearly always in the same position—Maurice in a chair, and Durham at his feet, leaning against him. In the world of their friends this attracted no notice. Maurice would stroke Durham's hair."