The Midsummer Gamble
Perfect. Everything was absolutely perfect.
The hills surrounding the vast field shone a bright green, and the leaves playfully swayed as the hot air blew against the trees. The sun, sitting so high up in the heavens, beamed brilliantly a blinding light, clearing the sky of any clouds.
Arthur shielded his eyes from the sun's rays as he stepped onto the dusty pavement; drops of sweat trickled down his face and neck, and he sneered at the many planes that were parked around the area in annoyance. Military planes of different sizes and of different colors surrounded him, and he criticized the gaudily-designed aircrafts in his head. It didn't take long before Alfred followed- panting, sweating, yet looking quite excited for reasons the British gentleman couldn't quite guess.
"You invite me over for some lunch, and now, this?" Arthur complained as the sun grew hotter in the sky. "You bloody git, what the heck is going through that empty head of yours? I'm a busy man; I shouldn't be wasting my time doing senseless crap, moreover when it has you- of all people, involved in it!" He stammered and glared at the American, who did nothing but keep smiling, much to his distress. Crossing his arms, Arthur rolled his eyes and faced the shining hills that bordered the area.
Alfred chuckled and gave him a sly look. "Then if you think this is senseless crap, why are you even here?" he asked, casually placing his hand on the irritated British man's shoulder. "You accepted the invitation, didn't you? And I'm sure you enjoyed the delicious buffet we had!"
"We split the bill!" Arthur argued, turning around and brushing Alfred's hand off. "Seriously, if you plan to ask someone out, do yourselves a huge favor and at least make sure you could pay for both your meals!" He nagged in a way that almost sounded bitter, yet suggestive.
"What, like in a date?" Alfred kidded, smiling coolly at him.
Arthur felt slightly irritated by the remark, and he frowned, looking hurriedly away. The way Alfred had unexpectedly invited him for lunch already made him nauseous enough; and being alone with the man in the US Airbase wasn't exactly a walk in the park for him either. He stared down at the dust collecting at his feet, trying hard to hide his blush. His punk of an attitude only served as an excuse- a mask he wore to hide the lingering scars of the past.
The awkward silence made Alfred feel pulses of electricity run down his veins as he tried to think of how he should start another conversation, seeing as things were again, getting nowhere. He glanced at his companion, his spectacles glaring in the sunlight.
"S-so, um… A-Arthur," he stuttered, trying to keep his cool, composed look, "do you like planes?"
"Why did you even ask me over?" Arthur asked back, the bitterness again in his tone. "Of all people… You just had to be the first to ask me out. I'd rather eat dirt; but you were pitiful, so I didn't really have a choice, did I?"
Alfred looked at him and gave a comical pout to hide the hurt. "Here we go again with your sour sarcasm." he replied, scratching his head. "Why not? To be honest, I was actually planning to drop by your place instead!"
"Yeah, though you'd probably get lost along the way, knowing how you are." Arthur replied, rolling his eyes, denying how touched he felt by the remark.
"Hey, I lived there once too." Alfred answered in embarrassment, the sincerity present in his gaze.
"But you can't get in without a key," Arthur answered back, maintaining his cold, unimpressed look. "Surely, you don't expect me to welcome you into my home with open arms, do you? Not after all the ungratefulness you've showed me, you bloody git."
Alfred said nothing and placed both hands in his pockets, a slight blush across his nervous face. His British companion chuckled and eyed him, signaling a presumptuous victory. However, the truth behind Alfred's silence caused a momentary instant of shock for the both of them.
"I've always kept the keys with me, actually," he said in a voice that was almost inaudible.
"I-I beg your pardon!" Arthur said, blinking a few times and rubbing his ears, not believing what he thought he just heard.
"Huh? What? Silly Arthur! I didn't say anything." Alfred chuckled, elbowing Arthur's arm- a quick stall to take back the shameful truth he had just admitted. "Come what may, I'll always be the hero! Locked doors are never a problem for me!"
The American's sudden burst of laughter only made Arthur look more exhausted than ever, and he gave a long yawn and rubbed his weary eyes. The summer wind continued to blow its warmth against them; small clouds of dust and dandelion puffs circled and danced around the field as if to acknowledge their presence. However, Arthur soon grew bored as he watched a cloud fly by.
"So, Arthur, do you like planes then?" Alfred asked again, breaking the peace.
"Planes? Well, I guess they're all right." Arthur replied, "My Spitfire is obviously the best, but I honestly don't like planes that much in general."
"Then what do you think of my planes?" the American asked; an anticipating smile on his face.
"Utterly hideous." Arthur replied, again sneering at his colorful surroundings. "They're so gaudy; I can't help feeling nauseous every time I look at them!"
"Oh? That's a shame." Alfred said, smiling lightheartedly at his impatient companion. "I'm going to give you one."
"Not interested." Arthur answered, yawning a second time; pretty much showing how uninterested he found the topic.
"Are you sure?" Alfred asked him.
"Positive." the other replied, placing both hands on his hips.
"Come on; I insist!" Alfred told him, and he began dragging Arthur across the field by the sleeve. The stubborn British man protested and tried to squirm his way to freedom with all his strength; however, his efforts were futile as nothing in history was ever able to get in the way of Alfred's excitement. The proud American paraded him through the open field as he pleased, much to Arthur's dismay.
The Brit tried to pay no attention at all to the planes, but Alfred's constant chattering gave him an inescapable headache.
"Hey, do you know about how we Americans-" stressing the words, "are allowed to customize our military planes and such?" Alfred asked proudly.
"Yes," Arthur replied, "and I think it's a bloody-ass stupid idea. Your planes make my eyes want to fall out of their sockets. Seriously, allowing you Yankees to design your planes like that. It's preposterous."
"This plane I'm giving you… I designed it myself!" the other bragged, paying no mind to whatever ill remarks his companion had just said. "There's no other plane in the world like it!"
"Oh, I'm sure; Dear Heavens, I beg of you to spare me and my eyes." Arthur cried out sarcastically.
"Nah, don't worry; It isn't as distractingly overly-decorated as that Mustang I tried to give you last Christmas." Alfred told him reassuringly.
Somehow, his words didn't quite get through Arthur at all. The poor man only grew more nauseous as they strode forward together, the sun beating down on them on that lazy afternoon.
"We're getting close," Alfred whispered, with his face looking a tad wearier. "I-I spent a lot just making this, so I hope you'll consider it."
"No one asked you to do this for me." Arthur replied bitterly.
"Need I have a reason to be generous?" Alfred asked him, trying to hide his blush with a proud grin. Slowly letting go of Arthur's sleeve, he pointed to a North-Eastern direction, where a shiny, dark blue Corsair stood in the sunlight. The Brit stared at it, speechless.
"That Corsair actually happens to be one of my favorites." Alfred told him with much delight in his heart, and in his words. "She's helped me through a whole lot, and I know you'll do a dandy job taking care of the old girl. Since the war's over, I don't know what else to use her for; and besides, I've never at all been that good with keeping things, so I want you to have her. I still have my Saber, anyway."
Arthur stood there, dumbfounded, not knowing how to respond. He hated airplanes- Alfred's, to be more specific. As much as he wanted to refuse the deal, he stood troubled by the kind words Alfred had just uttered out. Aside from that, the plane from afar appeared presentable enough- free of any stars, stripes, and whatever else he loathed. He soon found the courage in his heart to reconsider everything and smiled at Alfred, chuckling mischievously.
"Wow, you actually got it right for once, you old git;" he said, "None of those ridiculous white stars you wankers love so much."
"But… Th-that's not exactly what I wanted to show you." Alfred gulped. Soon, it was he who ended-up feeling sick as he said that. Losing all sense of being, he took Arthur's hand in his and led him closer to the plane. He hastily strode forward, embarrassed by the feeling of their intertwined fingers, daring not to look back at the man who as trailing close by. Alfred remained awkwardly silent as they walked closer, stopping just about ten meters away from the plane. He then slowly let go of Arthur's hand and placed his hands in his pockets, looked down at the dusty pavement and let out a sigh.
"Go ch-check it out," he said in a low, almost inaudible voice. "I'll follow you in a jiffy."
The wind turned cooler as blades of wild grass swayed to the breeze. Arthur hesitated to move forward at firs t, but began taking small, narrow steps towards the Corsair anyway. His hands trembled as he drew himself closer; his fingers twitched as he imagined the cruel fate that possibly awaited him. Sweat ran down from his temples to his chin, and the total uncertainty of what Alfred had in store for him once again made him feel dizzy.
'What if he replaced my Union Jack with red, white and blue banners? Or what if it's got a hamburger on it? What if that git painted 'PROUD COLONY OF THE USA' on it to piss me off?' he wondered, a suspicious smirk on his face. 'It's not exactly visible from afar, but… I'll only really know now for sure if I kept walking.'
He strode forward, looking down on the ground as these thoughts of terror lingered in his mind, exhausting him. Finally stepping into the plane's huge shadow, he dreaded all the more to look up until he felt completely ready for disappointment. Alfred finally followed him there; his hands still in his pockets, his posture, awkward.
"I know what you might be thinking, and I hope you'll come to forgive me after you see what's written up there." He mumbled.
'Written?'
"I know you've been hurt, and as much as I'd hate to admit it, I know that I'm the one to blame." Alfred continued, indirectly apologizing for the incident that crushed their bond about a century ago.
"And… so?" Arthur said, clearing his throat.
"I'm sorry for the delay; I just find it hard to find the words to say in ways that'll make you listen." Alfred replied, nervously playing with his fingers. "N-no matter what happens, I'll find some peace of mind knowing that I at least, tried to make things better between you and me." He paused for a while, staring intently at the man who looked completely unaffected by his honesty. "I-if you're ready to look up, please do; then tell me what you think."
"Alfred, why so dramatic all of a sudden?" Arthur asked, feeling utterly nervous. "Are you sick?"
"I know I'm a goofball, I admit it! B-but I mean it when I'm serious! Heroes are men of their words!" he replied, pushing Arthur forward. "So n-now, if you feel you're ready to look up…"
"I know, I know…" Arthur sighed, acting cool. Smirking, he tilted his head upward, eyes closed; the both of them nervously anticipating the moment. "Look up, right?" he said, a sudden weakness in his knees when he opened his eyes and saw what was presented before him.
His face flushed a soft pink, and electric currents flowed through his limbs as his heart skipped a beat. He didn't know how to feel- was he to feel ashamed, sorry, angry, or ecstatic with what he saw? He was unable to speak, and they both stood frozen still in time, under a plane which had the words: 'ARTHUR KIRKLAND, WILL YOU MARRY ME?' painted on it, in big, bold white letters. Below it was UK's Union Jack, completely safe from any hamburger drawings and other unwanted vandalisms. The Brit stared at the bold print with his mouth gaped open.
"I-if you'd like the keys now…" Alfred stuttered, reaching for something in his pocket. The jingling sound got Arthur to come back to his senses, and he momentarily stared at the man next to him, devastated. He gasped in shock and stared when he saw the American tinkering with some gold, later on slowly kneeling down in front of him. Alfred stretched his arms outward, his head bowed down in embarrassment. "Your… hand, please."
"What's with that gesture?"
"Just give me your hand, Arthur." Alfred replied, biting his lower lip.
The suspicious Brit slowly and reluctantly held out his hand to him, when Alfred quickly placed the keys in his hand. Arthur then squeezed and played with the warm metal in his hand. "Th-thank you?" he said, when he suddenly felt something foreign in what he was holding. A small, round object came into his grasp, and he swallowed hard, trying to convince himself to presume otherwise. He slowly unclenched his fist in anxiety, when he found a golden engagement ring in the whole ring of keys.
"Wh-what in the world… You… You git! What the heck's gotten into you?" Arthur stammered; his hand trembling as Alfred reached out to it with his. His leather gloves were warm when they touched, and it was more than enough to keep Arthur distracted. The two felt dizzy as they remained in their positions.
"Arthur… E-even if you hate me after this; even if it takes forever, I would feel much better knowing I at least tried telling you how much you mean to me, although most would find it pretty hard to believe." Alfred replied, blushing as he caressed his beloved's hand. "To me, even just a single day with you not knowing about my true feelings for you is far worse than having to go through a lifetime of your rejection.
"I love you, Arthur. I love how you deny things; I love it even more knowing how you can be quite a softy when no one's watching. I love how easy it is to get you so worked-up about things, and I love how you're still not over what happened years ago. If waking up to burnt pancakes every morning is what it means to spend the rest of eternity with you, then by all means, so be it- give me some of your over-cooked steaks and dry pastries for every meal as well! I wouldn't mind at all!"
Arthur's heart skipped another beat as Alfred continued showering him with his sweet words. He was again, made speechless; devastated by the sudden rush of events.
"I'll wait a night for you to decide if you have to. In fact, you may even take as long as you like!" Alfred went on, his eyes moist and sparkling in the warm sun's glow. "I've kept us waiting for centuries, after all; what's another year or two compared to that?"
A short pause followed after that, when Arthur cleared his throat and bashfully replied:
"Well, i-it's another year or two later, considering how I've been feeling the exact, same way towards you for as long as I've known you.
"Another year would mean yet another year longer of living an anxious life, with a stubborn heart that longs for the bittersweetness of yesterday. Another year would mean another year of nights just trying to get over you, and denying how much I've been wanting you back since the day you declared yourself independent of me.
"Another year would mean another 366 days of pure bitterness, and no reason; only bitterness. Why burden ourselves for another year or two; why even bother going through the trouble for yet another day? It troubles me to think of how we could have been like this the whole time, but I guess it's just as the saying goes, 'better late, than never.'"
Alfred, devastated, looked up at him with a nervous smile on his face.
"That's quite a long answer; quite the poetic one two, if I'll say so myself." he said, with his eyes fixed endearingly at the man who stood before him.
"I'm British, go figure." Arthur replied, pouting. "S-so then… A-are you just going to let this ring rest on my hand?"
The American closed his eyes, sighed, and kissed his lover's hand.
"A-Alfred!" Arthur cried out, his face blushing tremendously.
"You've always been so demanding; it's adorable." Alfred replied, kissing the hand another time. His eyes were filled with joy, and he felt as if his heart were about to burst open in gladness. He felt so warm all over, and he couldn't understand why it was so hard for him to breathe. He then, slowly tilted his head upward, smiled sweetly, and stared deeper into Arthur's eyes.
"So then," he began, clearing his throat, "Arthur Kirkland, will you marry me?"
Arthur's eye twitched. "Seriously… After all that's happened today, what do you think my answer is, you silly wanker?" he asked, as he slowly descended down to Alfred's level.
"A true gentleman would give a proper and more formal answer." Alfred replied, placing his hand on Arthur's cheek. "Don't think that I should be the only one going through the trouble and embarrassment of lowering myself to woo you; you're gonna have to have your share of the humiliation as well. After all, what's mine, is yours, right?" he kidded, moving closer to kiss Arthur's cheek.
Smiling, the British man leaned forward and embraced him.
"You idiot, you're asking for too much. Then yes, Alfred, I will marry you." he said, flushing as he buried his face in his lover's chest, embarrassed by what he had just said.
Embracing him tighter, the American placed his lips on Arthur's head, and stubborn strands of golden hair stuck up and tickled his chin. Alfred smiled with joyful tears in his crystalline eyes, moving one hand up to run his fingers smoothly through Arthur's hair. The shorter man once again felt his heart thundering wildly to the beat of Alfred's stroke, and the blood rushing rapidly to every part of his body drove him insane.
"I love you," Alfred uttered, his voice muffled in Arthur's hair. "I love you so much that I'd actually risk watching a horror movie every night just to get you to sleep with me."
"Dummy," the other grunted, "You wouldn't have to; at least, not anymore." He then stretched his neck upward and kissed Alfred's collarbone, slightly licking it, causing the American to shudder and give out a moan.
The taller man gently took his beloved's face in his hands and brushed some of Arthur's hair aside, leaning forward to kiss the forehead. Alfred slowly trailed downward to kiss Arthur's nose, down a bit more to kiss the space above his upper lip. The British man gasped with every caress, feeling a certain kind of swelling between his legs.
As Alfred continued to tease him by kissing all places very close to his mouth, Arthur pulled him closer by the belt and bucked his hips forward. The taller man, whose lips were only about an inch away from Arthur's, seductively looked into the other's eyes.
"You aren't by any chance, keeping a gun in there, are you?" he kidded, feeling very hot all of a sudden. Giving out a small chuckle, he gently pushed Arthur away a little. "Let's save that for the honeymoon." he said, withdrawing his lips. Arthur stared at him pleadingly, his lips puckered in a cutesy pout.
Unable to resist the other man's charm, Alfred placed his hand at the back of Arthur's head, leaning forward to a deep, passionate kiss. Saliva trickled down their lips as their tongues intertwined; each of them grunting as they made loud smacking sounds in broad daylight. Pulses of heat and electricity ran through their bodies as they moaned and caressed each other.
Arthur got so caught-up in the moment that he subconsciously tangled one of his legs around Alfred's, causing them to lose their balance and end-up toppling over one another onto the dusty ground. Alfred, his eyes gleaming in the light, looked lovingly at the man who rested lightly on his chest. He gently placed a hand on Arthur's head, smiling.
"You're not as heavy as you look." he said, stroking Arthur's hair.
"That's because I'm not a bloody hamburger freak like you, you idiot." the other replied, leaning down to kiss Alfred's lips. "But then again, love's like that. It's not perfect. But even so, if you end-up growing into a fat, old man because of how much you eat…"
"Wow, threatening me already and we're not even married yet?" Alfred chuckled, paying no mind to the intimidation, "Fine, fine. Have it your way; I'll start working-out a bit more, if that's what'll make you happy."
"H-hey, I was only kidding, you know."
Arthur sighed as he rested his head on Alfred's chest. The two of them lay lazily under the plane's shade and watched the clouds go by with the breeze. It had already been three hours since they first stepped into the airbase. The moments were silent, until Arthur raised an urgent concern to his lover.
"So… How exactly do we plan on telling everyone about us? Francis is definitely going to make fun of me. That wine-freak will never let me hear the end of it." he said, frustrated; imagining the torture of being made fun of by his number one rival as he buried his face on Alfred's torso.
"Well, we're gonna have to tell them someday." Alfred replied; staring up at the words painted on the plane. "Pay no attention to what the others might say; this is our choice. And besides, I'd like to think that they'd actually be happy for us- even Francis, no matter how crazy that Frenchman is."
"I guess it won't be too bad…."
"Now we're thinking positive!" Alfred uttered, mussing his lover's hair. "We'll need lots of guests if it's gonna be a big wedding, after all! And we'll need Francis to get the party started, so we're gonna have to include him in this one way or another."
"Ugh…" Arthur moaned, dreading the idea. Slapping his forehead, he replaced himself face-down on Alfred's chest and responded in a muffled voice. "Fine; just don't make him anyone's best man; I have a feeling things will go wrong if he were given that position."
The taller man laughed out and gave out a huge grin.
"Sure, sure; 'course.
"If that's what'll make you happy, Arthur.
"If that's what'll make you happy."
As the two lazed under a thick blanket of sky, the clouds continued to float by like fishes in a vast ocean. After a few more minutes, Arthur fell fast asleep on his lover's chest, and Alfred was more than happy to be his cuddly pillow. The American felt great for having won his fight. Congratulating himself with words of pride in his mind, he smiled and looked at the man he had just promised the rest of his life to; and according to him, the day ended exactly how it began:
Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Nothing more could have made his day any better.
Fin.
Author's Comments:
Greetings, everyone! It's me; I've risen from the fan fiction grave. ^o^
Whew, it's finally done. I couldn't believe it took me three months to finish just this one shot. I used to write one chapter a day… Maybe this is part of getting older? I'd hope to think otherwise, though. I'm still pretty young, after all. Haha!
So, yeah… This is my first Hetalia fan fic. I hope you liked it. ^^
I'm currently working on a script for a "short" Hetalia doujinshi (yes, it's also a JoKer,) titled 'Happy Together'; which focuses more on the comical aspect of the story. Heehee. But don't worry; there'll be lotsa love between Alfred and Arthur, of course. You'll just have to see it~ ^^
For some reason, whenever I tell myself I'd like to write something "short," I end-up writing something way longer than I had originally wanted it to be. It pretty much explains why this oneshot turned-out as a six-page-long fan fiction (seven pages, if you include my comments. DERP.) O_O I seem to have problems with trying to cut things down, as I always have ideas overflowing like the mucus from a sick kid's nose. (Eww.) It's named after Super Junior's song titled 'Happy Together.' I've kind of been into Korean bands these past few months now, so you could say I've changed from where I last left-off? Hee-hee. I'm still that same, crazy otaku I was when I first came here, don't worry. ^^
US x UK, or JoKer is my Hetalia OTP; GerIta would come next. I have a whole lot of other pairings I support and fangirl after day and night, but they're my top two.
Aside from 'Happy Together,' I am also working on 'Absolute Prince,' (no, this one's not named after any song,) another Hetalia fan fic which aims towards a more *ahem, ahem* sexually explicit theme. While the main pairing here would be GerIta, the other Hetalia pairings are also present, so I hope you'll enjoy it once it's posted. It's what I hope to be, every HetalYaoi fan's paradise. Lol. It will be another one of my totally long chapter-stories, so I hope I finish this one to the very end, unlike one of my popular stories I've uploaded here. I am currently writing chapter seven of 'Absolute Prince', a chapter just right after the story's first actual smex scene. During my "dead years," I made sure to spend some time brushing-up on those kinds of scenes. Hee-hee… I'm not giving too much info, am I? XD Anyways, I hope you'll continue reading my stories. *bows* I love you all!
Thank you all very much for reading 'The Midsummer Gamble!' I'd like to give my special thanks to the readers who have been with me since my Naruto days; sad to say I've lost my Shinobi spirit through the years (and the deaths of many of my favorites. Kishimoto-sensei, the 'killing-all-of-the-important-and-hot-people-thing' is getting old, and it made you lose one of your craziest fans.) The weird thing is, during the time I've been occupied with Bleach, I never once posted a fic of any of my favorite pairings. I might upload this Gin x Rangiku one I made; just give me time to finish it. (It might again, take forever, though…) HERP-HERP-DERP.
To my new readers, I hope you continue to read my upcoming works. As much as I enjoy writing stories, I find more joy in knowing what you think about them, and whether or not I've made you smile in one way or another. 8D
I continue looking forward to working with every one of you.
A pleasant day to all.
Grazie!
~sexee-kakashi