Hey guys! I decided I needed to get off my ass and start writing more...so here you go! Its rated M because Im eventually going to write some smut...Hmm...yaoi-er...I mean...what?

Anyhow, read and review...reviews get you new chapters sooner by the way!

Standard disclaimer applies, I dont own Hetalia, but I own this plot line!

Torn and battered, he sat upon the ground he had crashed upon. His eyes were the shy, dancing blue of the shallows of the ocean blue, and if one were to look into that dark lash framed gaze, they risked falling into that ocean. Wings, once a pure white were spread in a defensive form, now dingy and blood stained. One hand held his chest off of the ground while the other pressed against a wound on his shoulder, blood seeping out from between his fingers like secrets pouring from the lips of someone unable to contain them. Chest heaving, his baby blue eyes shone with fear and doe-like innocence. He was scared, he had heard of Angels falling before, but never once had he dared to imagine that it would happen to him. So now, broken and upon the surface of earth for the first time since he had died a good 200 some odd years before during the war for Independence for America, he was left to ponder why he had fallen.
If... if he was honest with himself, he knew exactly why he had fallen. He had been intended to watch over this planet of green and blue and the people and animals that roamed it...he was not suppose to be watching one man in particular...not be falling in love with someone he was intended to never love, and never have. Angels were encouraged to fall for each other...but to love someone still roaming the earth below was forbidden, and he had unintentionally broken that rule. Now, he was paying the price for a heart full of a love it should have never known.

So now, he lay broken at the feet of the one he loved -it seemed painfully fitting that he should be the one to find him- broken and battered as the male who had stolen his heart stood over him with a look of wonder and shock upon his , waiting felt dangerous, but he was too weak to do anything other than to see what the human standing over him would do next. It was a terrifying position to be in, one he couldn't remember ever being in since he was human; however, the Angel knew this man and trusted him even if the man knew not who he was.
A little shocked, and with a faint tremble about his person, the green eyed male lowered himself to his knees and reached out a surprisingly steady hand to the blonde angel before him. "Shh...its ok," A British voice comforted, one that the angel had heard time and time again, but never in person... never directed at him. It made him shiver with a foreign feeling...desire.
Slender fingers made contact and they both shivered, and ocean blue met forest green eyes. Slowly, those gentle, slightly calloused hands, made so from hours of playing bass guitar, reached out and hooked themselves under the angel's armpits and hoisted him up to his feet, struggling a little seeing as how Arthur was of slighter build than the winged man. A gasp torn from the angel's throat and he tried to support his own weight so that the green eyed, sandy blonde wouldn't have to struggle with it all.
"A-Alfred..." The angel breathed.
A little startled, the Brit looked at him as he tore off the bottom of his shirt into two strips, folding one into a pad and pressed it to the wounded celestial creatures shoulder, using the other strip to hold it into place, pulling it tight so it would remain in place and hopefully apply enough pressure to keep the wound of continuing to bleed. "E-Excuse me?"
"M-My name...my name is Alfred." Alfred couldn't say why he was saying this out of all the things that could be spoken in this moment, but it seemed to be the most important to him somehow, perhaps because some part of him knew that his wound was the least of his problems, angels tended to heal fast. Or maybe it was because he already knew so much about this beautiful human before him that he couldn't stand being this close to him knowing that Arthur knew nothing about him in return.
"Alright, Alfred, lets just get you to my place in one piece and we can worry about things like introductions then..." Arthur shook his head slightly, unable to believe that Alfred was worrying about something like introductions when he should be worried about his wounds and getting seen by someone who wouldn't feel so oddly inclined to help him like he did.

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When they finally made it to Arthurs house, he sighed and visibly relaxed, the angel was safe now that he was hidden from the eyes of the world and placed in his home. He didn't know that this Angel was in love with him, and had fallen for him, all he knew was that he needed to do what he could for him, even if he was proving to be a bit of a git. This was all a little out of character for the Brit, it wasn't really in his nature to try and help a stranger...but if there was something that was in his character, it was the belief in magic and Alfred, if nothing else, was obviously magical.

After much stumbling and a few halted cuss words, Arthur managed to get the blonde haired angel to the bathroom, unable to help himself from feeling horrible, he had probably damaged him further just struggling to get him safely home. Sitting the Angel down on the edge of his tub, he left to go get a bunch of clothing from his room, apparently his brother had gotten it into his head that Arthur was a much bigger man than he was, but he felt that perhaps the clothing would fit the more broadly built form of the angel, who Arthur had guiltily noticed had a body that even a male under wear model would weep in envy. Returning with the clothes, he gently set them upon Alfred's lap who looked up at him in question his blue eyes large and doe-like and so trusting it nearly broke the Brit's heart.

"Clothes...since what you're wearing is ruined..." he explained and bit his bottom lip. "Er...will you need help or can you...?" A blush bloomed rapidly upon his cheeks as he offered to help him undress and put on the less tattered clothes. he meant nothing sexual by it, but as the words left his mouth...tendrils of dark, lustful thoughts swirled into existence in his mind and he had so scold himself for thinking such thoughts-and about an Angel no less!
A blush formed upon the angel's cheeks, almost as if he could sense the thoughts swirling in deliciously sinful patterns in the green-eyed Brits head, and he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, making Arthur study them for a moment, having not noticed them right away. "N-no...thank you...b-but stay in the room just in case?" It felt odd to have to ask for such a thing, but until he healed all the way, Alfred realized he might have to ask for help on a lot of things. It was a vaguely unsettling realization, he had never really needed help with much of anything before, normally he was the one who helped others...normally he was the hero, but now it looked like Arthur was going to have to be his hero.
Green eyes softened, making the blue eyed blonde feel a little less bad about needing help, something hold him that this man might pretend to give him hell about it, but he wouldn't be unkindly about it. So, with a small grimace of pain, he stood and moved to stand behind the privacy curtain in the corner of the room, taking the offered clothes with him. Taking a deep breath, he began to pull away the fabric before realizing that part of his uniform had become entangled in the feathers of his wings, one of the few areas that were a struggle to reach unless they were completely unfurled and at the moment, he neither had the room to do so nor the freedom. With his wing so entirely ensnared in the ruined white of his robe, moving it would more likely break it. A sigh escaped his lips and he called out, "Hey, you you give me a hand?"
Alfred listened to the sound of Arthur getting off the bed and walking to where he stood behind the jade green curtain. A blonde head popped around the edge, when he saw the mess of the wings and fabric, he gasped softly. "Oh my, yeah...I'll help.."
Arthur gazed at the white, silvery expanse of feathers, stained in parts with blood and dirt, other parts hopelessly entrapped in the fabric of the white-er- once white robe he wore. Moving closer, with smooth, elegant steps, he worried a lip ring between his teeth. It was quite honestly, an interesting sight to behold: a punk helping a broken angel, but it was also a beautiful sight.
Once more, slender hands reached out towards the Angel, "Try not to move too much..er..could you sit for me?" Arthur waited as Alfred kneeled, facing away from him so that his wings were at chest level with the blonde punk who allowed his hands to reach out and gently rest upon the feathered appendages.
Humming softly under his breath, Arthur soon lost himself in the rhythm of untangling the feathers from the torn fabric, taking the time to use his nails to restore all the feathers to their perfect state, preening him with his hands the way a bird might preen another with its beak without thinking. The entire experience was extremely calming and Alfred found himself slowly melting at the feel of those gentle fingers trailing over his wings, time losing all meaning as a harmony to Arthurs humming rose from his own throat. As time passed, Arthur soon found himself resting in between his angel's wings, his chest against the smooth, skin between the two vast wings on Alfred's back, totally lost in the activity of preening the wings that had long since been freed.
Alfred on the other hand, was preoccupied with thoughts about how perfectly that slender body fit up against his own, the curve of his hips fitting snugly against the shape of his own ass, inviting darker thoughts of what Arthur could do to him with those hips, and how they might feel when held in his hands. The entire situation was surprisingly erotic and he was a little grateful when the blonde slide down his body and pulled away, sitting on his heels behind him. "I-I'm sorry...I'm afraid I got a little carried away," Came the soft, accented apology.
This elicited a soft laugh from the winged American. "Don't apologize, that was amazing. You wouldn't believe how long its been since I've last had someone sit and preen my wings..." a soft, contented sigh left his lips and he stretched, opening his wings slightly and rustling them before folding them neatly against his back. "So...where did we put that shirt again?"
With a start, Arthur snapped himself out of his thoughts and looked around for the shirt, finally his green eyes fell upon it and a laugh burst from his lips and he had to clutch at his stomach to try and contain himself. There, in Alfred's hands, was the shirt that he had just inquired after. "You wanker! Look before asking next time! You're holding it!"
Blue eyes widened at being called a wanker, and a smile flashed upon his lips and he gave an embarrassed shrug of his shoulders and looked down, shaking his head slightly as he joined in on the laughter that was spilling so perfectly from Arthur's lips. It amazed him how much better it was to see Arthur laugh because of him, to have him so close instead of merely watching him from his spot in the clouds, he was so happy he could nearly kiss him. Oh, how he wanted to, but he knew enough about humans to know that it would not be appreciated if he were to do so. Stuff like that normally was only ok after you went on a date or two...and Alfred wasn't entirely sure how to ask for something like that.

So, instead of asking, he settled for pulling the dark blue shirt over his head. The shirt would have been loose had he been human, but with the addition of his wings, the shirt was rather tight across his chest, accenting just how perfectly he was built, making Arthur stare for a moment.
"Iggy?"
Green eyes snapped up at the nickname, a blonde, pierced brow rising in question at the nickname. "Yes...Alfie?"
The result of Arthur using a nickname in turn was beatific. The angel's face lit up with a brilliant smile and his blue eyes danced behind the glass of his glasses like rays of sunlight dancing upon the tossing waves of the ocean blue. It damn near made the Brit's heart stop for a moment before it picked up at breakneck speed, a hand flying up to touch the hollow of his throat.
"Thank you..."

Stupid ending I know...but I got writers block...
So please review if you like it...if you didnt...Im sorry, but please dont leave me rude comments! Haters are never a good thing to be...