It was an early morning. A really early morning. Probably somewhere around six, but Alfred haven't bothered to check his watch.
He was making his way down the street grinning wildly. It was England's birthday, and he was planning on surprising him with breakfast in bed. Well, doughnuts and coffee in bed. He didn't really have time to think this through, as he just hopped on the plane last night and landed about an hour ago, but despite his tendency to rush into everything and the fact that England was, no doubt, going to shout at him, he was hoping his boyfriend would appreciate the gesture.
Once he made it to the red door he started picking up the pots. Was it the blue one that Arthur kept his spare key under…? Ah! The green one, right. He opened the door as quietly as he could and started tip-toeing upstairs. Everything would've been perfect if, by the time Alfred made it upstairs, the bathroom door hasn't opened slowly, revealing a very sleepy…
Girl.
He had no doubt she was a girl. The long hair tied in a messy bun didn't necessarily have to indicate that, but she had boobs. Alfred was fairly sure boobs were a girl thing. She lifted her arms to stretch, her eyes closed, which caused her oversized grey t-shirt to lift slightly. That made America notice another thing about her appearance - she was wearing a Union Jack boxers. That made the nation frown. Maybe surprising Iggy wasn't such a great idea after all…?
'Oh, bloody shit, where did you come from?!'
So she was definitely british. Still, her accent was a little different than Arthurs - she seemed to be swallowing the 't's' entirely.
'Um… Sorry, I came to see Arthur…'
'Yeah, figured as much. I don't think he's up here, though. He might be down in the kitchen making tea, or something. You are Alfred, right?' she asked, as if she wanted to make sure he wasn't a random murderer from the street, that just happened to find a key to the house.
'Yeah, that's right. And you are…?'
'Gwen. Sorry, mate, I should've said that first.' She scratched her ribs and yawned, letting him see all of her teeth. They weren't that bad, actually.
'So, Gwen...'
'Hm?'
'Do you… Live here?'
'Well, kind of. I mean, I have my own house, of course, but I stay here a lot.'
'Right… And how long has that been going on?'
'What, me living here? For ages! I don't really think I've been counting. Were you looking for a specific date?'
'No, that's fine… I think I'm gonna look for Iggy now…'
America was starting to look a little green at this point, but Gwen, not entirely awake yet, failed to notice that. She just waved, said 'Sure, I ought to get dressed anyway. See ya!' and disappeared into a room. Alfred turned around and started walking downstairs, trying to contain his shock. What? How? When? How could he? Was Alfred not good enough? How was he even going to confront England? Did England do it on purpose? Was it a weird joke?
Those were just some questions Alfred asked himself on his way downstairs, however all of them remained unanswered. By the time he's made it to the kitchen, he felt like his head was going to explode.
The first thing he saw was Arthur's back, as he's… boyfriend? Could he still call him that?… was pouring himself some tea. He then turned around with a sigh.
'I thought I could expect you here with something utterly ridiculous. I don't think I will ever come to understand your obsession with birthdays, Alfred. And Dunkin' Donuts? Really? What on earth gave you that idea?'
'Don't change the subject!' America exclaimed, before he could process what he was actually saying.
Arthur blinded in bewilderment.
'Oh. I wasn't aware there was a subject. May I inquire what the subject is?' he asked politely, sipping on his tea.
'The subject is that you've been living here with a girl for God knows how long, and you haven't told me!'
'I wasn't aware you'd be interested in that.'
Now it was America's turn to blink, shock visible on his face. 'What?'
'Well, the few times I have mentioned Guenevere to you I was simply ignored. So I decided you weren't interested in the subject, and therefore I stopped mentioning her whatsoever.'
'You've never mentioned her to me! I would've remembered something like that!'
'You'd be surprised…' Arthur gave him a small smirk. That did it.
'Now, you listen to me! You may be older, wiser and more experienced than me! You may have ruled the world some time ago! You may have raised me and given me everything I needed! But that does not give you the right to go behind my back and find yourself a girlfriend, so don't act like it's okay!'
By the end of that dramatic monologue, Alfred was panting slightly, glowering at Arthur, whose mouth formed a perfect round 'o' of utter surprise. They were standing like that for about thirty seconds, before Arthur snorted with laughter.
'Oh, you silly bugger. You utter and absolute git! You thought Guenevere was my girlfriend? Heavens, how did you even come to that conclusion!?'
Arthur was still laughing, which made Alfred feel a little uneasy. He cleared his throat, not as sure of himself anymore.
'Well… She was at your house at half past six, wearing your underwear and using your bathroom…'
'Oh dear, this is ludicrous. This wouldn't have even happened if you just listened to what i say to you, as I've told you numerous times. Alfred, Guenevere isn't just a girl. She's a personification.'
America looked even more confused.
'…Like us?'
'Yes. Well, sort of. She's not a personification of a country, so not exactly, but for the sake of this conversation, yes, she is like us.'
'I don't get it. If she's not a personification of a country, then… What does she personify?'
'I actually can't believe you're really this ignorant. You do realise your states have personifications, do you not?'
'Yeah, but you don't have any states…'
'Well done, Sherlock. Now let us see where you can get from that.'
After a few seconds of Alfred just looking confused Arthur snorted with exasperation.
'London, you moron. My capital. The city we're currently in.'
Alfred blinked a couple of times. 'Oh. Oh. So she's not…'
'No.'
'...She's more like…'
'Yes.'
'… Kinda like your kid?'
'I would say so, yes.'
And at that America's face lit up with the biggest of grins you could imagine, causing England to roll his eyes and make his way towards the couch, along with his cup of tea and a newspaper, muttering something about the other's stupidity. Alfred quickly joined the other nation, sitting right next to him, his grin turned into a smirk.
'So… Is Gwen, like, my stepsister, or my stepdaughter?'
Arthur turned to look at him with disbelief at the exact same time the person in question entered the living room. Now that Alfred looked at her, he could kind of see the resemblance. Her eyebrows weren't as humongous as Arthurs, but they weren't small either, and he could definitely tell she had his eyes.
'Ew, gross, definitely not your stepdaughter! Sweet Jesus, don't make me think about that ever again! Anyway, I just came to tell you that I'll be off, so you can enjoy your birthday… I was about to say breakfast, but I don't think that's a very accurate description. Heart attack in a bag? Yeah, better. Also, I won't be staying here tonight, and I think we all know why.' She gave them a wink, to which Alfred answered with a big grin, and Arthur - with a mad blush. She was about to leave the room, when she remembered something, turned around and said 'Oh! And happy birthday, Pops!' and with that, she left the room entirely. Alfred chuckled.
'Pops? Really?'
'Oh, shut up, she does it just to spite me.'
'Yeah, and it works. Good for her. As for that breakfast…'
England sighed and opened his newspaper. 'You can have it Alfred. As much as I appreciate the gesture, I'm not planing on dying of sugar overdose today.'
They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, as Alfred devoured the doughnuts and coffee, and Arthur sipped on his tea and read Daily Mail. When he was finished, Alfred sprawled on the couch, taking almost all of the space, and looked at his boyfriend, so glad that was still who he was.
'That was some beginning to your birthday, huh?'
'Yes, quite… As ridiculous, as could only happen with you.' Arthur replied absent-mindedly, turning a page. Alfred nudged him with a foot to get his attention, earning himself a glare from an angered Brit. He smirked quite mischievously.
'I'm planning an even better ending, to it, if you know, what I mean. So you have something to look forward too throughout the day.'
Arthur tried really hard to conceal the colour of his face behind the pages of the newspaper. But considering that a few seconds later there was an American climbing on top of him, throwing the paper to the floor and locking their lips together, he didn't do a very good job.
Authors Note:
This is just a fun story that came to my head yesterday, because I wore my Union Jack boxers to bed, and it made me laugh, so I thought I should share it.
The London OC in this story is not thoroughly thought out, but i though naming her Guenevere was a nice touch.
Also, I don't own Hetalia, quite unfortunately, but also, quite obviously.
Reviews are highly appreciated and make me smile like an idiot!
(And bare in mind that english is not my first language, so I do appreciate any corrections in that department as well.)
