It was pretty late, around 2 in the morning, when the blonde-haired man's phone rang. He grumbled and turned over in his bed, fumbling on the bedside table for his glasses. Unable to find them, he resigned with a sigh and picked up the phone. Answering it, he mumbled a sleepy, "Who's this?" The voice, somewhat shaky, on the other end of the line surprised him.
"A-Alfred? Is this the right number?" the caller said.
"Um, yup, that's me." the American said in response to the rather slurred speech reaching his ears.
"It's Arthur ah... I seem to um be in a bit of a predicament."
"...Predicament?"
"Well I might have had er, one too many and I don't know where I am... But I think I'm near your house... maybe." Arthur said haltingly from across the line.
Alfred sighed and brushed his hair out of his face. The other man must be really intoxicated if he is A, lost, and B, calling the obnoxious, rude, yet somehow sweet American to come find him. "Fine, dude, I'll come look for you." he said with a small chuckle.
"O-okay, thanks. And, uh, please don't tell anyone else about this?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever." he said, then shut the phone. Standing up, he stretched briefly, then wandered over to the dresser to put on some clothes. Pulling on a jacket and some jeans, then lacing up his sneakers Alfred grabbed his car keys from the table near the door on his way out. If Arthur was as drunk as he had sounded over the phone, it would be a very long night. And he needed his sleep for the huge party tomorrow-well, today- it was the fourth of July.
Driving around slowly, he looked for the Englishman. He had no idea where in the world he would be, so Alfred drove by some of the local bars. Finally the green-suited man was spotted on the sidewalk and he pulled over. Stepping out of the car, he walked over to Arthur who looked like he could barely stand upright. "Dude, what happened?" Alfred said with a somewhat accusing glance.
Arthur waved his hand dismissively. "Just a bit too much..." he said, and tried to make his way towards the car, but just ended up stumbling and falling into Alfred's arms. His face turned a deep shade of scarlett, and the other country blushed a bit as well.
"Err...Sorry." the older man slurred as he tried to get himself upright again.
"Nah. It's all good." Alfred shrugged, and began to help the Arthur towards the car. Finally they were on the way to the American's home. Stepping out of the car, Alfred walked around to let the other country out of the car. Arthur, with some help, made his way towards the house and proceeded to stumble towards the restroom. Gagging sounds could be heard in the hallway and Alfred winced.
Tapping on the door lightly, he asked, "Uh dude, you OK in there?" There was no response, and so he opened the door to find Arthur lying on the floor. It smelled like vomit. "Eww, gross." Alfred remarked. The other man just groaned.
Arthur had pretty much made a mess of himself, and so Alfred had to lend him some of his clothes to wear. It took some doing to get the sweat, and vomit soaked clothes off but between the two of them they managed. It was worth saying that the Englishman looked rather funny in sweats and a hoodie.
"I'm sorry you have to see me like this." Arthur said stiffly, but his voice was faltering both from the alchohol and his episode in the bathroom.
"Eh, whatever." Alfred said, then looked back towards Arthur who was leaning unsteadily on the doorframe. He would never make it up the stairs in this state, and the couch down here was covered in a bunch of crap that he didn't really feel like picking up at three in the morning. He supposed he had no choice.
Bending down, he picked Arthur up in his arms. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" he yelled, flailing around.
"Chillax dude, I'm just taking you up the stairs!" Alfred said with a laugh, and began to ascend the stairs, fuming Arthur still in his arms. Though the Englishman would never voice it out loud he quite enjoyed being cradled in the other country's arms, but at least the fact he tried to appear furious covered up his furious blush. Finally they made it to the top of the stairs, but the American didn't put Arthur down. Instead he carried him all the way to his bed, and laid him down on it. "You can crash here if you want." Alfred laughed.
"Not like I have much of a choice..." Arthur grumbled, pulling a blanket over him. "But then where are you going to sleep?" he asked, green eyes looking at the younger man.
Alfred shrugged, grabbing the unused pillow and blanket off of the bed. "Floor's good, I guess." he tossed the bedding onto the hardwood floor.
"You are not sleeping on the floor!" the older man exclaimed suddenly sitting up.
"Well unless you want me to sleep in the same bed..." Alfred said somewhat bewildered. Arthur flopped back down into the bed with a resigned sigh. Alfred would never understand his feeling for him, well he certainly didn't care for him in the brotherly way that he had used to.
"I just thought the floor might be uncom-" he was cut off by the younger country slipping into bed next to him.
"So long as you don't find it weird, I'm cool with it dude." Alfred said, stretching out his arms behind him and trying to get into a comfortable position.
Arthur grumbled a good night, then turned over, feeling the other's man's back press against his. He didn't know which sleeping position was more awkward, face to face or back to back. His face flushed a bright red as he tried to push all of the not-so-innocent thoughts out of his head, because certainly all Alfred would think of this night was nothing. Completely innocent, with nothing sexual or suggested. Though of course the Englishman's mind ran away with him as he tried to fall asleep, head pounding in tune with his heartbeat.
It was the next morning- the fourth of July. Arthur awoke with a throbbing headache, and his whole body hurt, like someone had pounded him with a mallet. Remind me never to go out drinking again... he thought, gritting his teeth as his head swam when he tried to stand up. He barely remembered the previous night, but he did remember how he had loved the feeling of Alfred arms wrapped firmly around his- gah, what was he thinking? Rubbing his temple, he tried to stand up again and this time suceeded.
Of all places, why did he have to end up at Alfred's? Especially on this godforsaken day? Arthur grumbled as he made his way down the stairs gingerly. Downstairs he could hear the sound of a radio playing, and the clanking of dishes.
"Oh you're up, sweet." Alfred greeted as Arthur made his way into the kitchen.
"Ugh.. yeah." the older man said, holding his hand to his forehead. "I suppose I should head back to my house now-"
"Aw, you mean you aren't gonna stay for the partay?" Alfred said, looking slightly hurt.
"Party? What party?" Arthur muttered.
"For the Fourth, dude!" Alfred said energetically, seeming to harbour none of the resentful feelings that Arthur had towards the day. Or perhaps he had forgotten...
"I don't celebrate that holiday." he said rather bitterly, then sighed. "Besides, I've bothered you enough."
Alfred glanced away from the Englishman. "If you say so.. It wasn't really a whole big bother. I liked having someone else in the house for once." he said.
Arthur had to turn away to hide his blush. He mumbled something resembling a 'thank you.'
"At least let me give ya a ride home." the younger man said with his normal grinning expression returned to his face.
"Fine, alright."
Arthur was back at his house, and sat alone at his kitchen counter just staring at the wall. This day was always the worst for him. It brought back painful memories of blood, betrayal, and wars he had chosen to bury in the back of his mind. But they always resurfaced. His heart had been broken and he had resented Alfred for years, but slowly old affections had begun to creep back into his heart. And he had begun to see the younger man not as the boy he had raised, but the man he now was. And despite their differences, Arthur had fallen in love with him. And Alfred would never know.
He held a hand to his forehead and grabbed the glass that was next to him on the counter. "God damnit..." he cursed. "Why do I have to be such a bloody idiot?"
The phone rang, and he jumped, startled. Sighing tersely, he picked it up. "Hello?" Arthur snapped.
"Hey Artie! It's Alfred! I just wanted to know if you'd changed your mind about the party."
The American sounded so hopeful, and Arthur didn't want to make him upset by not coming. Even though it had to be one of the worst holidays in the history of holidays, he doubted that the party would have much to do with the American Revolution anyway...
"Fine. I'll come."
"Really? That's awesome! Dude, I'm so excited! I'm coming to get you right now!"
"Wha? Now? But I'm not even dressed!"
"Well hurry then!"
Alfred laughed, then the line went dead. Arthur scowled, then reluctantly got up from his seat. Hurrying to his room, he grabbed one of his suits out of his closet. Laying it out on the bed, he figured that he should take a quick shower. Grabbing a towel out of the closet, he turned on the water, and stepped into the shower. Arthur finished up as quick as he could. Stepping out of the shower he wrapped a towel around his waist. Walking into his bedroom, he realised that a certain American was sitting on his bed and flipping through the journal he kept on his bedside table.
"Alfred? What are you doing?" the Englishman yelled, his hands balling into fists. Alfred looked up, blue eyes startled behind his glasses.
"Just lookin' through your diary-" he teased, and Arthur lunged forward to grab it out of his hand. And then, at the worst possible moment, his towel fell.
A huge blush spread across his face. This was bad, this was really bad. He almost failed to notice that Alfred was blushing slightly too. Almost. Bending down to pick up the towel was equally as awkward, and when he coughed suggestively the American quickly stood up and hurried out of the room. Arthur got dressed, and then headed out to the living room where he figured the other man would be waiting.
Alfred stood up as the Brit walked in, and smiled at him somewhat tentatively. "Ready to go?"
The first thing Arthur noticed about the party was that there were cars. Lots and lots of cars. He heard music blasting from inside, but he was pretty sure it was rock, not that bloody pop that Alfred always insisted on listening too. At least his ears wouldn't be bleeding, as if he didn't have enough problems already.
"C'mon Artie! Let's have some fun!" Alfred said, flinging the door of his car open. The Englishman opened the door in a much more refined manner, and followed his companion up to the house. He was amazed by the transformation Alfred's house had undergone. The living room, normally crammed with random crap, had been turned into a dance floor of sorts. He saw that Prussia was serving as DJ, that explained the rock music.
He spent most of the night sitting in a chair in the corner, occassionally greeting people as they walked by him. It was incredibly boring, until he heard Alfred voice rise over the crowd. "I'd.. I'd like to dedicate this song to a friend of mine.. And I'd like him to be much more then that." he said shyly, and Arthur couldn't believe when the blue eyes rested on him. "Artie, may I ask you to dance?"
The song came on over the speakers.
I'm not a perfect person
There's many things I wish I didn't do
But I continue learning
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know
Arthur felt himself standing up, walking over towards Alfred. The American took his hand and smiled at him. The crowd on the dancefloor parted, and arranged themselves into a circle facing the couple.
I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you
Tentatively, they began to dance. The Englishman realised that Alfred was mouthing the words... no, he was singing them. Singing them to him.
I'm sorry that I hurt you
It's something I must live with everyday
And all the pain I put you through
I wish that I could take it all away
And be the one who catches all your tears
Thats why i need you to hear
Arthur leaned his head against the other's chest, and closed his eyes. He couldn't believe what was happening. It felt so unreal, never in a million years had he expected Alfred to feel the same way about him, and then he realised why the American had wanted him to come to the party so badly.
I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is You
"Arthur Kirkland?" he heard Alfred's voice say softly. He looked up at him.
"Y-yes?"
"I love you."
I'm not a perfect person
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know
I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you
I've found a reason to show
A side of me you didn't know
A reason for all that I do
And the reason is you
Hey, thanks for reading :3 I hope you enjoyed. Even if it had a terrible ending.
Hetalia doesn't belong to me, sadly, and neither does the beautiful song towards the end. That's called The Reason by Hoobastank.