Okay, I know it sounds similar to my previous story. I tried to make it as different as possible. I got so many feels from these guys like ahhhhh. I love them so muuuuuch. 3
Arthur tried to cough away the tickle in his throat. For some reason, this tickle had been bothering him all day. It made him wonder if he was getting sick with a cold or something. The Brit had been working his ass off signing papers, attending Alfred's ridiculous meetings and dealing with the pervert Francis. There were more pressing matters on his mind that he couldn't be bothered to think about since they only increased his stress.
It was a good thing he could finally get the day off. Maybe if he got some rest, everything would return to normal. Arthur sighed as he lay in bed and closed his eyes, soon falling fast asleep. The short nap didn't really help his lack of sleep much. Now, his head was pounding worse than anything.
I just need some Nurofen, yeah that's it... he thought to himself, realizing what a splitting headache he had.
Arthur took two of the painkillers and went back to sleep, hoping his throbbing headache would go away. He woke up about two hours later, still not getting the rest he needed. Something didn't feel right at all. His body felt weak, and the tickle on his throat become scratchy and sore. Arthur sniffled a he started coughing. Great, just what he needed to make his day worse... a cold.
The doorbell started to ring as he shuffled to the door, taking his time just to get there. Whoever was at the door seemed really impatient. Arthur flung it open with his pounding head ready to explode from the echoing sound.
"What is it?!" he snapped as he sneezed a few times.
Standing there with a playful expression was his companion Alfred. "Yo, dude! How's it hanging?" he waved to the Brit who groaned, along the American to let himself inside. "Geez... you seem crankier than usual, you okay bro?" he blinked as Arthur rubbed his temples with a sigh.
"No, you bloody twit! I'm quite infirm at the moment, if you couldn't tell. I don't have the patience nor time to entertain you right now..." he snapped at Alfred who blinked and closed the door behind him.
"Aw, I came all the way here to see you because I've missed you!" Alfred pouted, only to annoy Arthur more. "Can't you at least be happy to see me?" he crossed his arms and continued to pout.
"I have more pressing matters to attend to, so kindly bugger off and leave me be!" he said with a heavy cough.
"Dude, what is wrong with you? You've never been this crabby before..." Alfred blinked at Arthur who growled weakly.
"I've been saying it it for the last few minutes! I'm ill, you bloody dunce!" he replied with a squeaky sore voice. "I've strained my throat enough just speaking to you, so I repeat again, bugger off!" he told the American as he started coughing again, wincing with pain.
Alfred frowned as he felt Arthur's forehead with a sigh. "Dude, you're burning up, bro..." he pouted at the Brit again.
The American picked Arthur up in his arms and carried him around. Arthur tried to fight him, but he was too weak to match Alfred's massive strength at the moment. He really hated being sick, especially when he had to deal with this bloody fool.
"Unhand me, you twit!" he said with a hoarse whisper.
"Nope! It's time for you to get some sleep, dude!" he grinned at Arthur as he placed him into bed.
Alfred started undoing his clothes, which completely horrified the Brit. His kicking and hitting didn't seem to drive him off. Arthur blushed madly as he pulled the covers over himself in nothing but his boxers. The American pulled out some striped pajamas when Arthur grabbed them and changed under the blankets. His pajamas had a comforting feeling that made him feel a little sleepy.
"Is there anything else you need, bro?" he grinned, despite Arthur blushing like a fool.
"Get out of my room, you bloody wanker!" Arthur yelled, only straining his throat more.
Alfred actually listened to his orders and let the Brit get some needed rest. Maybe he wouldn't be so cranky if he got some sleep. It was no fun being sick, even the Alfred had hardly been ill.
Arthur woke up nearly two hours later, feeling as though his head would explode. Alfred managed to find a thermometer to take the Brit's temperature. This only made him frown when he knew Arthur had a fever.
"Dude, your temp is 101.2°F..." he said as he felt Arthur's forehead with a pout.
"We'll, I am ill, you twit!" he crossed his arms and scowled at the American who was only trying to help. "You know, what you could do is make me some peppermint tea." he said with a few sneezes.
"Uh, how do I do that, dude?" he blinked, only for Arthur to sigh.
"I fall ill, yet I still have to do everything around here..." he mumbled as he made his way downstairs.
Arthur made himself some tea, despite feeling miserably sick. It didn't help that his head still felt like it was going to explode at any moment. Alfred watched him plop onto the couch when he went to get a blanket and put around Arthur's shoulders.
"Uh, thanks?" he blinked at the American's odd generosity.
"I still think you should get some rest, dude. I know you haven't been getting very much sleep at night." he frowned Arthur as he glared at Alfred.
"What are you, a bloody stalker?" he sniffled and started coughing. "I don't need to baby me..." he said as he grabbed a tissue to blow his nose.
"Geez, I'm only trying to help, bro..." he pouted and crossed his arms.
Arthur sighed as he finished his tea and went back up to bed. There wasn't really any point in fighting sleep when you're sick. Alfred followed him up to his room and kissed Arthur's forehead just as soon as he fell asleep.
Dude, I'm going to be the hero and stay here to cheer him up, no matter how much he regrets me doing this for him, man! Alfred thought to himself with a big grin on his face.