Summary; Alfred and Arthur have been friends since birth. Alfred claims that he doesn't care for whatever Arthur does with his life. If that's true, then why is Alfred getting so worked up when he hears about his encounter with a very flirtatious girl? Arthur's complexion couldn't be redder as he realized it's not that he didn't like his date, it's just that she wasn't Alfred. Rating; M for kinda sexual tension that leads to no where ! Paring; UsUk, Axis Powers Hetalia ( Human AU ) Authors note; sooo sorry for being so inactive. annnd I'm sooo sorry for posting this. This is reallly really bad and my first time writing smut, so please bare with me. It came out so crappy and icky but my friend urged me to post it. I regret everything. disclaimer; I don't own Hetalia or it's characters "She did what?" Alfred tried to ignore the slight crack in his own voice, and also avoid the surprised, almost guilty look in Arthur's dark emerald eyes. Alfred doesn't seem to notice the way the other is leaning back, and suddenly realizes that he, at some point in their conversation; had jumped cross the couch and was now closing in on the poor Englishman. And Arthur did not seem to like that one bit. "That's none of your business!" Arthur snapped, pushing at Alfred's chest to get him to back off with irritation picking at his voice. His impressive eyebrows where beginning to knit together as he wondered what exactly caused his previously uninterested childhood friend to suddenly 'get up in his grill' as Alfred would say. Alfred's eyebrows, which were of normal size; began to crease together with frustration for two reasons. One; Arthur was being insanely difficult. And two; He had no idea why he was suddenly so entranced with Arthur's boring story, and why he felt the desire to know everything that happened. To be honest, just a few moments ago he was thinking about turning on the TV and ignoring Arthur's flustered expression as he recounted his date. It wasn't until Arthur muttered something about her perfectly pedicured hands coming in contact with his inner thigh. "You let her feel you up?!" Alfred practically yelled, his eyes wide and frantic behind his glasses which where lopsided from his sudden sprint to Arthur's side. The Englishman's once pale cheeks turned a very faint shade of red at the other's accusation, and Alfred just happened to catch it. "I-I...She-…" Arthur just couldn't find himself to speak properly as his mind lingered over the memory of her fingers, each fingernail painted a different color; ghosting over the material of his pants. "In a way…y-yes." The Englishman replied with a forced frown to possibly shut up Alfred's constant inquiries. He didn't think it would be a good idea to also comment on the other things she did. Arthur didn't bother to inform Alfred that he did not allow her to go very far, but instead let him believe what he wanted to believe. He didn't even relatively like her, to be honest. She was just as loquacious as Alfred and never shut up. She was very attractive, obviously; with her short blond hair and tanned skin and ocean blue eyes. Somewhere in the Englishman's mind the word Alfred clicked into place when he first laid eyes on her. She was beautiful in more ways than one, but sadly whenever he looked at her he instantly saw that all too familiar lopsided grin. There was also something just…wrong about the situation. He should have been armored with her, entranced, enchanted. But he just wasn't, strangely. Perhaps the problem was that…she was female? Heavens no! Arthur was bent as straight as a ramp. That is, if you don't count bible camp. He continued to reminisce it, remembering how he was just about to excuse himself from the room, or he was at least thinking about it. But alas his plans of escaping where halted when a group of five warm fingers slowly, teasingly, inched their way up his knee and rested on his thigh. Alfred could tell Arthur was thinking back to the moment in his mind because his cheeks where slowly starting to heat up. Alfred noticed this, and felt something stab his chest, a feeling of both disappointment and anger and possessiveness and- Wait. Was he… Jealous? Fuck no. Of course not. He didn't care for what happened to Arthur. And he was sure to make that clear in an argument they had a few weeks ago. They always had been such good, close, childhood friends. It wasn't until Arthur had been going out of his way to try and date that things became difficult for poor Alfred. Alfred must not have read the look of bewilderment on the others face as he subconsciously began to inch closer and closer, causing Arthur to growl in protest. His stupidly big eyebrows knitted together in disgust as he could feel Alfred's breath hot against his cheeks. Or, maybe it wasn't disgust, the American pondered absentmindedly; because Arthur seemed to be purposely avoiding eye contact. Arthur was rigid, body tense at how close Alfred was to him. The poor Englishman was practically leaning over the edge of the couch as Alfred hovered over him. He could partially smell the subtle scent that was Alfred. For some strange reason that musky, almost outdoors-y smell mixed with some kind of sweet-smelling cologne and the faint hint of McDonalds didn't seem as annoying as it usually does. But it sure did feel overbearing at the moment. "Goddamn it Alfred get off of me! W-What are you, possessed?" Arthur complained with a glare, harshly pushing away at Alfred's chest to get him to move, still looking away. Alfred did not budge. Arthur could feel nervousness licking at his insides, his heart beat quickening as he accidentally slipped up and allowed his gaze to flicker towards Alfred. His throat closed tightly as he could swear there was a look of hurt hidden behind the bright sky blue hues. Alfred had an almost devastated look on his face for a sheer moment before his contorted into an expression that said "Tell me more. Now." Written all over it. Arthur began to regret even opening his mouth. "What else did she do?" Alfred asked, his tone too serious for Arthur to comprehend. Arthur wrinkled his nose. "I don't have to tell you." "Why not?" Alfred responded, seemingly unfazed by the Englishman's persistence. "Because you don't need to know!" "Because you're scared." Arthur visibly cringed at the truth of Alfred's words, and he couldn't bring himself to deny him. He was most definitely scared. No, not because of the protective cage Alfred was forming around him, not allowing him to leave the couch. It also wasn't the way those strange, sky blue irises where staring at him in the most judgmental of ways, causing Arthur to squirm nervously. No. It was simply Alfred all together. It was the way he smiled, the way he carried himself, the way he was closing in and the way Arthur could just barely feel the warmth of his body in the cold room. There was nothing more but silence as Arthur could feel heat crawling up his neck as realization slowly creeped into his mind. He had been having this internal conflict for the longest time now, and as far as Alfred was concerned it was probably about his sexuality. Alfred always knew that the Englishman wasn't too obsessed with girls and boobs and butts like he was. But then again, Alfred couldn't stand to see him so close to a female. And now inside Arthur's confused mind, the puzzle pieces where coming together. It was obvious, almost. The way he impatiently waited for Alfred to return home. The way he always forced himself to eat that disgusting food just for the sake of being with Alfred. The way he went rigid when Alfred got a bit too close. The way Alfred invaded his thoughts, ruining every date he attempts to have. The way Alfred was just…Alfred. It was like a disease of the mind, really. Arthur almost didn't comprehend the large, calloused fingers which where slowly sliding their way up the material of his trousers. The hand was continued to inch its way up from his knee, in a painfully slow way, as if either Alfred was scared or he was teasing him. Probably both. Arthur never took his wide, surprised emerald eyes away from the attentive sky blue ones which were hidden behind two lenses. The shorter male could almost feel his heart stop as Alfred's hand finally arrived at his inner thigh, and they were silent again. Nothing but the small whisper of a cacophony of rain slapping against the windows from outside filled the room. Alfred finally took a breath in and ran his tongue over his chapped lips before letting his eyes narrow, making an expression that caused a small sting of pain in Arthur's chest. "…Arthur." Alfred whispered in such a soft tone, causing a small shiver to run down the other's spine. Arthur could now easily feel Alfred's warm breaths dancing across his cheeks, and his desire to resist him slowly began to expire. The Englishman couldn't bring himself to do anything but copy Alfred's short words. "…Alfred?" His tone was a bit more confused, his voice wavering and a tad shaky under Alfred's seemingly unresponsive body. The American was unmoving, except for the small twitch his fingers made when Arthur's soft, worried voice reached his ears. "What did she do next?" Alfred inquired slowly, gazing at Arthur with a look of obedience. "…h-huh?" "What did she do next, Arthur?" Arthur stared at him for a moment, glancing downwards as he thought yet again back on that awkward night in his living room. Despite the pretty girl, her slim dress and her airy voice the only thing Arthur saw was Alfred as she proactively teased him. It made him incredibly embarrassed, even just looking back to it. He had no idea what compelled him to answer. "S-She um…She started to smother her lips over me." Arthur said with slight annoyance in his voice as he remembered the lipstick that stained his skin. He never really did appreciate how she just suddenly clashed her lips against his before leaving a trail of bright pink down his neck. Seriously, where did he find these kinds of girls? Then again, he was almost eighteen! He had every right to go on dates if he wanted to. Right? Arthur became a little doubtful of that fact as a small flash of anger flickered over Alfred's face before disappearing. The shorter male subconsciously attempted to calm himself down. There was an agonizingly fast pace going through his ears, which he recognized it as his own heartbeat. "Why do you ask…?" Arthur inquired. It wasn't until he ran his tongue over his teeth in thought that he realized Alfred had been awaiting instructions. Alfred's eyelids lowered slightly, bright ocean blue irises staring down at him with an expression the Englishman yet again was unable to understand, but there was a small flicker of desperation that danced behind those hues. He remained silent, as if contemplating whether or not he should continue onwards while biting his lip. Arthur stared at him silently, dark emerald eyes never leaving those of Alfred's. The American's hesitation didn't last long before the lent closer, his lips nearly inches away from the Englishman's ear. Alfred hesitated, taking in a breath as if prepared to say something but was interrupted as his hand accidentally slipped forward from the pressure he was putting against it while trying to get even closer to Arthur. The Englishman squeaked as Alfred's hands quickly, though roughly, shifted over his crotch before hastily retreating back to its position at his inner high. He squirmed awkwardly, shoulders tensed. A light laugh escaped the American's lips, his breath hitting the side of Arthur's skin as a scowl formed over his cheeks. "Y…Y-You bloody pervert. You're worse than Francis." Arthur responded with irritation in his voice as well as embarrassment. Alfred knew very well whom he was referencing, and give Arthur a lopsided grin. Francis was one of their close friends whom traveled here from France. Despite Francis's kind intentions, he could be a little touchy-feely at the worst of times, and both boys agreed on that with no real offence intended. The American put a hand over his heart to mock being stabbed with a dramatic expression. "You wound me so!" He replied with a laugh, but his cheerful voice ended just as quickly as he almost closed the space between them by placing his lips at Arthur's neck, letting them rest there. The Englishman's anger simmered down in a matter of seconds as he felt Alfred's hand, which was placed at his thigh; begin to rub and soothingly draw circles across the fabric. He shifted slightly, that pounding in his chest returning as the other's lips began to ever so subtly nudge against his Adam's apple. Arthur shut his eyes tight, shoulders still tensed. Alfred noticed this and maneuvered his other hand to gently grasp the back of Arthur's hair, petting and stroking his choppy locks so as to calm him. It worked. Arthur's shoulders relaxed, his head hanging back and his eyebrows knitted together awkwardly as the taller blond pressed his lips to the Englishman's skin, beginning to leave a trail of kisses. At this, Arthur shifted, knees twitching and legs fidgeting awkwardly as Alfred slowly trailed up to his jawline before stopping at Arthur's ear. He hesitated for a moment as his hand which was momentarily rubbing Arthur's thigh began to slowly inch higher, Alfred's throat constricted slightly as he tested the waters. A small groan slithered its way out of the shorter blond's lips after Alfred's hand began to palm at the material of Arthur's pants which shielded his manhood. The American seemed to freeze at the sound, causing Arthur to shift with embarrassment. Alfred hesitated before looking up at the Englishman, his bright ocean blue eyes wide with a desperate expression written over his face. His cheeks where tainted a light pink from his own awkwardness at the situation. Arthur gazed back, feeling a flutter down in his chest as Alfred glanced around at the bland scenery of the living room, one hand idly feeling the soft leather of the couch. For a moment Alfred did nothing, simply gathering tension in the air before he turned back to Arthur, both hands quickly placing themselves at the zipper of the Englishman's pants. "…C-Can I?" He asked quickly, looking as though he couldn't bear to hold back another second. Alfred's voice cracked slightly, his eyes pleading for an answer. Arthur truly didn't know how to respond; he simply stiffened and placed a hand over his face which was quickly lighting up like a Christmas tree. Arthur couldn't really comprehend for a moment what the awkward American was requesting, but then his eyes widened silently and his face became hot. They were just simple childhood friends, and people with such relations should never get into things even remotely close to this. Arthur can still recall all those embarrassing moments of his childhood in which Alfred was there to watch everything, and both males can easily remember. They practically spent their lives together. Yes, they had their moments of conflict and bickering, but when it came down to the math, they were glued together. Arthur reminisced the subject, turning it over within his mind. They were just simple childhood friends. "D-Do as you wish."