Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, Himaruya does! And I don't own any of the song lyrics used in the writing of this story – those copyrights are reserved to The Beatles and Elvis Presley.
This is a request for Illusive Shadows because she's effing Prussia, yo, she mah broski. Go check out her writing nao. And the Norva's a real place too, one of my favorite concert venues. Google it.
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Falling in Love

…With You.

"Arthur!"

A pair of sinewy arms locked around the startled Englishman just as his foot crossed over the threshold and into the petite dorm. "Get off of me you git!" he shouted into the summery face of his American roommate as he flailed within the other's hold, pushing the childish blonde into the center of the room. "What've I told you about hugging me? Do you even remember?"

Alfred nodded, flashing his counterpart a pearly grin before he clambered back onto his bed, pushed against the wall underneath the only window in the room. "'Course I remember! You told me never to do it, for what, like the fifth time this week?"

"Exactly." A hand flew up to pinch the bridge of Arthur's nose as he dropped his books onto the empty, meticulously made bed situated perpendicular to Alfred's before crossing over to a miniature computer desk near the door. "If you obviously know how many times I've told you not to hug me in the last week alone, then why in the bloody hell do you still insist on doing it?"

"You always look like you need a hug, that's why!" Alfred chirped gleefully as he brandished the mahogany acoustic guitar beside him on the bed, yanking the cord to the window's blinds down to send them skyward.

Arthur perched in a simple rolling chair and scooted closer to the desk, popping open the behemoth-like nineteen inch laptop that he and his roommate shared after both pitching in to buy it in their freshman year. "That doesn't mean that I want one," he mumbled under his breath as he keyed in the laptop's password, JOKER.

"Huh? What'd you say?" Alfred piped up, plucking a few strings on his guitar before his left hand moved to tweak the golden pegs adorning the top of the guitar's neck.

Arthur shook his head, chartreuse eyes narrowing against the glaring snowy background featuring a lone penguin ornamenting the monitor. Seems he took the liberty to change the wallpaper again. "Just mumbling to myself, don't worry yourself with it."

"'Kay. Hey, you, uh… busy tonight?" A tone of almost insecurity threaded through Alfred's voice, inwardly surprising Arthur: he had never heard such a feeble tone betray the confident, self-proclaimed "hero" that was his roommate.

"No… finishing up an essay, but that can wait. Why?"

With the shift of fabric Alfred hopped off of his bed and rummaged through the pocket of his jeans as he prodded Arthur's shoulder. As Arthur turned his eyes swept over the colorful, rectangular piece of paper nestled in the palm of Alfred's hand stuck out to him. "Please come to my gig tonight? I'm playing the Norva as the main act thingy! I'm no longer just an opening act that everyone forgets about after the show!"

An impressive brow rose as Arthur nodded, accepting the ticket and tucking it into the breast pocket of his long-sleeved green shirt. "Sure, wouldn't miss it for the world. Good luck out there tonight."

Alfred nodded with a grin as he returned to his bed, picking up his guitar once again. "Awesome, and thanks! It starts at seven."

Arthur simply nodded as he turned back to the computer, fingertips bolting across obsidian keys. Behind him Alfred softly strummed the guitar before launching into a melody that struck a familiar note in his British friend, plucking out chords that he remembered memorizing off of some fanmade guitar tab online a mere month after debuting at university and subsequently meeting Arthur. His voice undulated hums as he warmed up to the song—the clear, innocent timbre of his voice coupled with a moderate pitch took Arthur back to the days in which he had just made Alfred's acquaintance. Back then longing and homesickness had sent him into a spiraling depressive phase, yet when Alfred would sing everything felt right in the world, his mundane problems would lose their suffocating quality… Arthur felt happy, as carefree as he had been in his childhood, in every sense of the word. "I've just seen a face I can't forget, the time or place where we just met, she's just the girl for me and I want all the world to see we've met… hm-hm hmm…"

Oh bullocks. Where in the bloody hell was my rational mind when I agreed to come see his show tonight at this godforsaken place? Arthur remembered thinking as he slid into a spot standing shoulder-to-shoulder to a couple to his left and a young woman to his right. He jammed his hands straight into his pockets as emerald eyes darted around the concert venue, alighting on the fact that no chairs were present on the main floor, save possibly one or two pushed inconspicuously against a wall or into a corner for the security guards. He noticed the illuminated screens hanging suspended from the ceiling or embedded in the walls warning attendees that moshing was not allowed. Where the hell do they get off putting those up? It's a waste of money… they should know that just about every kid that comes here ends up moshing by the end of the night, seeing as how the entire first floor is a fucking mosh pit.

The cloying scent of beer from a tap wafted above the crowd, mingling with faint cigarette smoke from an unknown source and automatically scrunching Arthur's nose. The lights above the stage extinguished abruptly as something shiny and embossed flashed in the corner of his eye, a smug smile upturning one half of his mouth. "Always so flashy, aren't you, Alfred?" he murmured under his breath, knowing that he would not be heard over the excited chatter that erupted from the crowd surrounding him.

"Hey you guys!" Alfred's buoyantly childish voice echoed throughout the acoustic venue before a fluorescent spotlight flickered to life, illuminating the muscular frame of the caramel-haired musician standing proudly atop one of the speakers situated on the right side of the stage, complete with his favorite guitar slung across his torso, black microphone held up to his lips. "Thanks for coming tonight, for supporting my music, all that normal shit. Let's begin, shall we?" His tone plummeted through octaves to mimic seduction, sending coarse shivers down the column of Arthur's spine.

With the first strum of his guitar, fingers contorted into a D chord upon the fingerboard and the first phrase slipping past pert lips, Arthur seemed to mentally leave the uncomfortable space that he found himself in, jammed between people he didn't know and had no intention of making their acquaintance. Alfred's voice singled him out, as if only singing to him—all of the others gathered around him didn't matter. Without really registering it his eyes bulged as he followed Alfred across the stage, noticing the lively, acute movements of his college roommate that he had never taken into account before. The skin around Alfred's eyes seemed to unclench, his face devoid of any stress as he transcended through each song on his mental set list; Arthur had never seen his friend's eyes reflect such relinquished elation as he lost himself within the notes and words that he had oftentimes helped Alfred come up with.

Alfred's oceanic gaze swept across the audience before he met Arthur's eye, a luminescent grin traipsing immediately across his face as his eyes brightened even more so than before; he waited until the last strum of his guitar faded into nothing within the electric air before clearing his throat to speak into the mic. "Alright peeps, I'm wrapping this show up with a song dedicated to one of my closest friends who's actually here in the Norva this evening, but I'mma leave it up to your imagination who that particular person is. Thanks again for spending the ten bucks to come out here tonight! Hope you guys had fun, I sure as hell did!"

A wistful chuckle resonated within Arthur's throat as Alfred tweaked the pegs at the top of the guitar's neck and set the mic back onto its stand. He took a breath before his fingers settled into their places upon the guitar's strings, loftily casting his American flag-themed guitar pick into the audience. Calloused fingertips acquired from years of playing the instrument plucked soft notes with such practised measure that it astounded Arthur how his boisterous friend could play so gently, the sound more ethereal and dreamlike than anything he had heard before. Familiar recognition piqued Arthur's interest as his heart beat double time; he could recall thinking is that a love song? before Alfred stepped close to the mic and launched into the first verse, his voice as clear and true as a summer night in August, "Wise men say, only fools rush in…"

Unassuming tears pricked the gilded peridot of Arthur's eyes as he gazed upon his friend, caught within the throes of naïve infatuation, "…but I can't help… falling in love… with… you." Alfred's voice hung on each word before moving onto the other phrases, eyes glued to Arthur as he sang.

Arthur's expression dissolved into complete wonderment: it surprised him how much inattention he had paid to his roommate not to notice how much adoration gamboled within the fathomless cerulean of the eyes that he had come to love, clearer than a cloudless sky in autumn. Up until now I've completely ignored him. A lone tear broke away from his eye and streaked down his left cheek as the last phrase of Alfred's rendition of one of his favorite love songs clung to the air, buffeted by piano-esque notes, "For I… can't… help… falling in love… with… you…" His voice warbled out the last word with a shy chuckle before his fingers vacated their positions against worn strings, moving to slip the guitar strap over his head and clutch the neck. "Thank you, and goodnight!" he remarked loudly before hopping straight off of the stage, holding his hands up to the security guards that had begun to move toward him as the audience ruptured into a cacophony of screams and claps and cheers.

As he moved past Arthur with a confident grin plastered to his face he slipped an unnoticed arm around the shorter blonde's waist and towed him toward the open doors at the back of the venue, leading him outside into chilly nighttime. "Alfred…" he began as his companion shook his head, stepping in front of Arthur to stop his advancement.

Hands flitted up to clutch Arthur's upper arms as Alfred looked his friend full in the face, an uncharacteristically serious expression overtaking his blunt features though his smile still played upon his lips. "I meant what I said up there. You know who I meant that last song for, right?"

Arthur simply nodded as Alfred's eyes unclenched; it took a minute for the young Brit to muster his words before he replied, "What a fitting way to tell me, too. You've always been rather flashy in everything you've done, haven't you?"

"Yup! That's how I do things!" Alfred chirped, though the pitch of his voice dropped abruptly—in passing Arthur noticed the slightly scratchy quality behind his friend's tone from all of the singing that he had done that day. "But seriously, Arthur… what do you think?"

"Well, for one your show was amazing," Arthur began, the shadow of a smirk quirking a corner of his mouth, "and—"

"No," Alfred interjected, "you know that's not what I'm talking about. Stop avoiding the subject for once, because this is kinda serious… and it matters a lot, at least to me. So tell me, what do you think?"

Arthur fell silent for a moment, feigning deep thought; he cleared his throat ominously before he responded, a tone of reverence prevalent in his voice, "I think… I love you too, Alfred."

The blue of Alfred's eyes bulged before an ecstatic smile, larger than the one before, overtook his mouth—Arthur completely froze as his companion leant close to him and in one motion pressed his lips chastely against the other's, lingering for a long moment before pulling away bashfully, cheeks burning with novel rouge. Arthur stared at his newfound love before he remembered to blink (and to breathe, for that matter) as Alfred's arms wrapped around his narrow frame, his body feeling as if it were on fire pressed against Arthur's. The shorter man allowed himself to embrace Alfred back, chin finding purchase against a broad shoulder as one of Alfred's hands found his own and laced their fingers together. "Take my hand… take my whole life too…" Alfred breathed musically into the shell of Arthur's ear, with all the care and grace as if he were singing a young child to sleep.

New tears swam within Arthur's eyes as he fought the thickness that pervaded his voice, cracking sometimes upon his heartfelt reply, "For I can't help… falling in love… with you."

Fin.