This is my first story so I hope you enjoy.
Comments welcome. 

The rain was falling fast now. Hard and fast. But that didn't matter to Arthur; nothing did with the mood he was in. Obviously being England, the country was used to rain pouring down, however this time it was different.

'I like the rain…at least no one can tell that I'm crying when I stay out in it.' Arthur thought to himself.

Yes, tears were defiantly running down his face, he could feel them stinging his cheeks. The contrast of hot tears and frozen rain felt good. Almost as good as when Alfred helped him up from the ground the previous day after falling from a tree.

'NO! I don't want to think about him. Not anymore.' Sighing he felt more tears welling up in his green eyes.

England was sitting on the swing, in an abandoned play park in the middle of nowhere. This was supposed to be his holiday. He and America had decided to go caravanning together (albeit in separate caravans). And all that he could think about was his best friend, the only thing was… he wanted to be more than best friends.

For five years now England had lusted for America. Ever since the day that he had snuck beer into the campsite and they drank it in the woods. And everyday they'd spent together since his love for the other nation had grown and grown. He couldn't take it anymore.

Looking around him he saw nothing but countryside and an old road, only used to reach the campsite they had pitched their caravans in at the beginning of the week. It was still early only about 7:30 in the morning, but Arthur had been sitting there since 4:00. He'd left when everyone was asleep so that no one would follow him, being alone was all he wanted right now –that and being held in Alfred's strong toned arms.

'I know he would never like me the same way I like him so why do I betray myself with all these damn feelings?!' Arthur said aloud whilst repeatedly punching the wooden framework of the old swing with his right fist as hard as he possibly could.

Retracting his fist he saw that he had left a dent in the wood, but more surprising was the traces of blood that had been left. Glancing at his knuckles he noted that he had split three of them.

'Good! It serves me right. I shouldn't be feeling like this. It's not fair on Alfred. Evan if he doesn't know.' He let his arm and fist go limp again, falling to his side.

He was soaked through to the bone, even shivering but still Arthur did not return to the warmth and comfort of his caravan.

'It's too close to him. If he knew what I felt, he'd not want me near him.' He thought.

Suddenly a shadow fell across the weeping man. Looking up he started at the sight of the person whom was the core to all his problems. Forgetting it was raining, he quickly he looked away not wanting Alfred to see him crying.

A sympathetic smile found its way on to America's easy face. He knelt down in front of England. Even in that quick glance of the other nations face, he could see that he had been crying. And it sadden his heart to see him like that. Firmly but gently he pushed his friends face round to face him.

Cupping the startled Britons cheek in his hand he carefully wiped away a fresh tear that had formed and was slowly making its way down his face before England pulled away again.

'What have you done now Arthur? You're bleeding.' Alfred sighed reaching for the man's injured hand. England struggled against him for a moment but America was too strong for him. Slowly he drew it closer to his lips until they brushed gently. Then leaning forward slightly he started sucking the wound.

Amazed at what was happening England tensed his muscles and stared at the man kneeling at his feet.

'He's on drugs! He's got to be!' thought Arthur.

'What are you doing?' he whispered.

Alfred stopped sucking and kissed each injured knuckle in turn before answering the other man.

'What does it look like I'm doing? I'm tending your wounds you big dope.' He replied lovingly, letting go of Arthur's hand he straightened up and, still on his knees, looked straight into his eyes. He placed his hand on Arthur's thigh.

'Why are you crying? You should know I don't like it when you cry' Alfred said quietly.

'There's a secret I have been keeping from you for the last five years Al, and if I tell you I'm afraid that you will hate m-'

'I could never hate you Arthur, besides I already know your secret.' interjected America.

'Y-you do!?' standing up he turned around and wrapped his arms around himself as if to hold himself together.

'Yes, I do and I feel the same way too. You've always been there for me since we were little, and six years ago when I stayed at yours because of the lightning storm. I…w-well I realised that I loved you.' admitted the American, pushing himself off the ground and wiping off the wet bark that had stuck to his knees.

'But w-why? Why did you wait till know to tell me this? We could have saved years of heartache!' Arthur claimed, turning round to face the American.

'The same reason as you. I thought that you would hate me, but … now we know this; things can change for the better between us. Right?' Alfred stepped closer to the older man and tugged at his arms gently so that they would fall to the Englishman's side. Moving closer still he slid his arms around England's waist.

'Right?' repeated Alfred.

'Right!' smiled Arthur. And with that he wound his own arms around America's own body.

It was only then that England noticed it had stopped raining and that the sun was breaking through the dark clouds.

'You're still shivering Arthur. Maybe I can help?' the American suggested. Then he pushed up on his tiptoes and brought his face close to England's own.

Gently their lips brushed together. Their breath mingling with each others. Bending his head down ever so slightly England completed the connection and let America kiss him. It was gentle at first; slow, but getting faster and more powerful.

Inwardly moaning America nibbled on the taller mans bottom lip, trying to entice him to open his mouth. It worked, and an ecstatic England fondled the younger's tongue with his own, and, after a few minuet's, he started nibbling back.

Regretfully pulling away from the incredible kiss he had started, America grinned sheepishly,
'See I told you I could help you stop shivering'.

'I never said you couldn't, did I!' Arthur protested.

Chuckling at him, Alfred kissed England on the cheek.

'I love you, Arthur' he said.

'I love you too, Al'

****

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