Hello everyone! I've never posted a Hetalia fic before and I'm not actually into the fandom anymore but I still love USUK (or UKUS) and last night I felt like writing an AU USUK fic. So yeah, there might be some grammatical errors (well yeah I wrote this last night and I haven't checked this) but pardon me, I'm Finnish so my English isn't perfect. Anyway, enjoy this!
Summary: As Alfred moves to Penzance, UK from Washington after a job, he meets the most interesting injured man who captures his attention. The man is a pirate captain. UKUS AU. Set in the 18th century (maybe).
Rating: T (will be M later but I'll change it when it's time for that)
Warnings: Slash, historical errors (I didn't bother to check them), grammatical errors, AU story
Chapter 1.
'Remember this, Alfred. We won't forget you when you're gone. God knows when you'll come back or if you ever will, but I and your Mum will always love you. Just stay alive, son and keep yourself in good condition. We wish you the best luck in England.
-Your family'
Alfred shouldn't have felt the powerful wave of sadness rush through his body or let his always-so-cheerful expression wither. But that's exactly what happened when he read the lines of the small note over and over. That was the only thing he had with him to remind him of his family back in Washington. Oh God how he missed them. He had just embarked Ms Elizabeth and the ship was ready to set sail to Southampton. Another page had turned in his life and he should be gleeful that something was happening in his mundane life. Alfred was to spend the next years of his life in Cornwall as a servant for a wealthy manor. It would be so different from his old life in the ourskirts of Washington, living in poor conditions with his family. Yet he wished he could've stayed home and continued living in poverty.
His father had come across a vacant job in the newspaper. 'A wealthy retired Scottish stockbroker is in need of a new servant, preferably a boy, to help at his mansion in Penzance, Cornwall, Great Britain. The interview will be held as soon as possible.' It turned out that the Scot had spent the winter in Washington and was returning to Penzance in a week. Alfred remembers his father's look when he read the note out loud, his eyes said 'lad, if you don't grab this chance, you won't get another one' and Alfred understood without saying that he had to go to the interview. And he just happened to get the job.
Alfred hadn't thought about the not-so-nice sides of the journey; he wouldn't come home for a while, maybe never and he was going to a place he had read about in books and the newspaper but knew nothing about. He didn't know whether he'd be bullied or adored, what the place was like, if he'd be accepted and if he'd like the place at all. He didn't know much about his employer, co-workers or the mansion. He'd met the entourage before embarking the ship but they had made clear that he wouldn't be needed before the arrival in Southampton. Their eyes had a certain coldness and absence about them, the servants and the old gentleman were as distant and uninterested in Alfred at all. If anything, his genuine interest and the radiant smile decorating his already good features only seemed to annoy them. This had made Alfred a bit sad, but he knew he'd get to know the servants when time passed and they'd spend more time at the mansion. About his employer, Geoffrey H. Marshall being his name, Alfred only wished he'd treat him well and pay the wages.
The young lad had been standing by the railing, leaning against the white, metal bars that kept him from falling down and splashing into the foaming, marine blue ocean. A smile was decorating Alfred's face as he gazed the horizon and the wavering surface of the sea. The weather was really nice, Alfred didn't remember when he'd seen a sky so azure and white puffy clouds were sprinkled all over the blue. The ocean was a slightly darker and definitely deeper shade of blue with tints of green and white in it. A trail of white foam was cast into the air by a playful wave and the fresh sea wind blew into his face, making his naturally blonde hair cascade backwards. The fact that the ship wouldn't reach Southampton until next Friday made joy bubble in the pit of his stomach. He had always loved the ever-so-changeable, reckless and beautiful sea and he didn't mind spending ten days onboard, watching and feeling the water mass beneath him. Alfred adjusted his marine blue tie that had been wrinkled by the wind and turned around to look at the people on the deck, chatting with each other while enjoying the weather. Some sunbathed and others played poker while smoking fancy French cigarettes. Alfred didn't feel like joining any of the groups. He felt perfectly fine on his own too.
It wasn't like Alfred was anti-social, he had lots of friends back in Washington and a few girlfriends too. It wasn't that he was shy or self-consious either, Alfred was actually very talkative and sociable when he wanted to and he knew he was quite a sight with his muscular yet lean body, radiant blue eyes and blonde hair. He was also positive and happy almost all the time and his good mood came acroos through his beautiful smile and a really attractive gleam in his eyes. Alfred was wonderful, maybe a bit over-entusiastic and just plain stupid at times, but his goodness, positive nature and natural attractiveness covered up his errors. He knew he was nice and good-looking but he just didn't want to talk to these people. They all seemed like stuck-up upper-class idiots who saw nothing but themselves and everything materialistic around them, like people who despised the poor and unfortuned. Alfred could see how the well-dressed men, probably working in some kinda business field, laughed at him when they thought he wouldn't notice, and how the women admired his appearance but laughed at his clothes and class.
No, Alfred didn't want to make contact with people like that. He sincerely wished he wouldn't come across similar narrow-minded arrogant twats in Penzance, at least not much. Was it too much to hope for someone nice and sincere to come across? Someone who wouldn't judge him by his class or yearly wages. He had friends back home but there were so many who judged him, his family and his class. Alfred knew his dream would probably never come true, but he really wanted to be an equal to someone richer than him. Well, even if that didn't happen, he knew he had to try to be a nice boy in Penzance. Otherwise he's stay there would be hell not only for him but for his co-workers and the people around him.
Alfred sighed as he turned his back against the crowd, eyes gazing only at the calming sea. He wanted to believe in Penzance, its residents, his workplace, his employer and his co-workers. He'd give them a chance. He smiled as he felt a wave of excitement bubbling in his stomach for the first time that day. Maybe this trip would turn out just fine.
"So, Alfred F. Jones, this is your room." The sightseeing tour with the grumpiest young man in existance, who had constantly furrowing brows and a weird little curly cowlick stubbornly sticking from his head, wasn't exactly what Alfred had hoped for. The mansion was huge and admirable but his guide made sarcastic and ugly remarks about tiny details Alfred hadn't even noticed. 'This coffeetable is unbalanced, look at the rococo-styled wallpaper peeling and my God, such a fucking ugly old vase!' If that wasn't depressing, he didn't know what was. And the man hadn't even bothered to introduce himself! His guide had only glared at him unintrestedly and nodded at him. The tour from the main hall to Alfred's room, which he shared with two other servants, had been a bad experience and he only wanted it to stop.
"Thanks, dude. So what's your name? I guess we didn't have time to introduce ourselves earlier and you weren't with us on the voyage here. I'm Alfred F. Jones and it's a pleasure to meet you." Alfred flashed a smile at the shorter man and held out his hand. The other man only stared at his hand but reluctantly grabbed it and shaked it weakly.
"I already knew your name. Stupid American. I'm Lovino Vargas and I'd appreciate it if you'd stay out of my way." Lovino's eyes were sharp and cold but a slight blush had spread across his place. He turned around and stomped away, muttering something about silly Americans and their joyful smiles. Alfred grinned, it seemed that the man wasn't as bad as he seemed. A bit grumpy, ill-mannered and anti-social but quite OK anyway. He couldn't place his accent, though. The brunette was certainly not British, American or Canadian. His accent sounded a bit like the one he'd heard at the quay a few weeks ago. Mexican? Italian? Something like that.
"Oh hello! Mr Jones, I assume?" Alfred turned around and was met by a smiling man standing by the door. Alred smiled at him.
"Oh yeah, that's me. Who're you then?" This man had a funny accent too, Alfred noticed. But it didn't matter because he seemed really friendly and his English was understandable.
"Me? I'm Antonio Carriedo and I'm originally from Barcelona, Spain. I came here two years ago with my lover. He has quite a personality. But yeah, it's nice to meet you. We're really in need of a good servant."
Alfred's expression had changed from a smile to sheer astonishment. He? What did the Spaniard mean by saying that his love was a man? At least in such a carefree manner for a stranger. Didn't he know that sodomy was illegal in Great Britain? It wasn't like Alfred was a homophobe and would report Antonio and his lover to the police but someone else could. He realized he was staring.
"Oh sorry, I just.. haha so are you my roommate?" Oh gosh, Antonio was so gonna see through his crappy excuse. How embarassing!
"No, I'm sorry. I'm staying next door with my boyfriend. But this room belongs to Feliciano Vargas, who's my boyfriend's brother, and the Japanese kitchen worker, Kiku Honda. And now you're apparently taking the third bed. Well, Feliciano is kinda hyperactive and childish and Kiku is very calm and polite. You should be lucky you didn't end up in one of the other rooms."
"What do you mean? They can't be that bad?" Antonio smiled coyly and stepped closer to Alfred, leaning in to whisper in his ear. There were footsteps nearby and Alfred could hear someone laughing.
"If you won't unbuckle your pants and let them explore you, they won't let you be. To speak of the devils..." Antonio backed away from Alfred and smiled at him knowingly. The young American was shocked. Where actually had he come? Was this a den of homosexuals who wanted to rape him? Well at least Antonio and Lovino seemed normal, but what about the others?
"Antonio, what do you mean they rape-?" He didn't get to finish his sentence because Antonio slapped his hand over Alfred's mouth. That same moment three men spotted Antonio and grabbed the Spaniard by his shoulders.
"Oh hello there, Antonio! What rumours have you been spreading about us to this young man?" A man with unruly long, blonde hair stepped forward and bent down to kiss Alfred's hand. The American couldn't help the blush that was spreading on his face. What the heck? Why was this man kissing his hand?
"Lad, my name is Francis Bonnefoy and I'm the head chef here. I'm from Paris, France. What's your name, lovely?"
"Oh? Well I'm Alfred F. Jones and I'm new here. I'm from Washington. USA. Nice to meet you." Alfred decided it was best to hide his feelings and appear as friendly and accepting to everyone. That was, until someone actually invaded his personal space. A kiss on the palm is nothing but a kiss on the lips is way more personal.
The Frenchman grinned at him and the two other men behing him shook hands with Alfred. Ivan Braginski, a Russian janitor who seemed friendly but yet very creepy and Gilbert Beillschmidt, a very patriotic war-crazy Prussian gardener with scary red eyes. Well, that was quite a gang. A flirtatious creep, a wolf in sheep's clothes and someone who would probably cause the next war. Alfred forced a smile and waved at his co-workers as they walked away. Antonio was right, he was lucky to reside with somewhat sane men.
What a day, Alfred sighed as he lay down on his bed and pulled the sheets over him. The moonlight shone through the heavy velvety curtains and illuminated Alfred's face. The first day had been something very interesting. The co-workers had been one thing, there were serious creeps, actually nice and outgoing people, weirdoes and shy ones. His roommates were quite nice – Feliciano was really childish but Alfred found him nice and sweet. Kiku, on the other hand was a bit distant and seemed reluctant to share his opinions, but he was nice and normal. Alfred was sure they'd get along just fine.
He hadn't seen his employer Mr. Marshall since they had arrived at the mansion, Emerald Gardens being its name. The old man seemed so distant and quiet and Feliciano had told him he stayed in his rooms all day, except for a walk every evening at seven. The Italian had mentioned something about Mr. Marshall's son being missing and that the old man had been very quiet ever since his son had gone away.
What had really caught Alfred's eye was the shadow of a young man hiding in a nearby bush only a mile from the mansion, beside the coast. He could only see strands of sandy-blonde hair and slender legs clad in ripped black trousers. His legs were covered in bruises and he seemed to be missing a part of his foot. No one else in the carriage seemed to notice the bruised man, or they didn't care, but Alfred felt the need to check on him. Heck, he didn't know anything about the man, didn't know if he was dead or alive, who he was and why the heck he was lying in a bush by the coast, but there was something about him that triggered Alfred's interest.
As he turned in his bed, Alfred decided he should check on the man the following day. His shift would stop at five and he'd have plenty of time before the sun would go down. It was early June and the sun wouldn't go down until ten. Alfred chuckled. Why was he using his time to find someone who could be an asshole, a violent creep or even a corpse when he really should spend time with his co-workers and get to know them. He should let the scarred man be and concentrate on more important matters.
Yet there was something fascinating about the man. He couldn't see the whole face and everything from his upper lip to his knees was covered in green leaves, but somehow he knew the man was beautiful. The sight of the messy hair cascading on his face and his closed eyelids made the man look really sweet. Alfred had a feeling that the man would be the most unique and fascinating person he'd ever met. The thought of the unknown beauty lying among the leaves and twigs made his heart race. There was just something about the man and Alfred had to find out what it was.
"Feliciano, I'm going out for a while! I'll see you and Kiku when I come back!" Alfred's heart was already pounding, his shift was over and he could finally go for a walk and find out about the mysterious man. He knew it was stupid to exhaust himself after a long day working as an assistant and repairing various things from tables to clocks. The others were going to have a get-together by a bonfire on a field nearby. Alfred was invited too, but he kindly declined. 'I'll come with you next time, ok?'
"Okay, Alfred! I'll see you later, ve?" Alfred smiled at the Italian and excused himself. It was merely a mile to the spot and it wouldn't take long before he'd be there. As he put on his shoes and got ready to go, he snorted and laughed at himself. 'Silly old me! Why do I act like this? Why do I even feel this obliged to help someone I don't even know? And why do my heart race like this? It's not like I'm on my way to meet some pretty girl...'
It was easy to find the spot, Alfred just followed the country road until he reached the sea. The bus wasn't far away, but when he found it, the man wasn't there anymore. He couldn't help the wave of dissappointment that ran through him. He'd really wanted to meet the man who had plaqued his thoughts all day. Suddenly he saw a trail of footsteps on the ground. Alfred turned around and started to follow the trail. His heartbeat raced as he could hear someone cough behind a large rock. He took off his shoes and dipped his feet into the soft sand. Alfred took a few hesitant steps forward until he saw the person. He leaned against the rock and just stared.
'No, it's not like I'm here to meet a pretty girl. I'm here to meet the most beautiful and handsome man in existance.' Alfred's heart raced as he stared at the man who was clad in a long and fancy red coat, black knee-high trousers, a bunch of expensive jewelry, black gloves and a fancy black hat. A pirate... Alfred knew the outlaws were dangerous and that he should run away that precise moment but he couldn't. The sight of the pirate was enough to keep him there. The man was still wearing bloody bandages on his leg and also on his left arm. Even though he was injured, the man was smiling and staring at the foaming sea. He looked so serene, so beautiful and so perfect.
Alfred gathered his courage and stepped out of his hiding place. The pirate didn't notice him at first but as Alfred took a few steps towards the pirate, the said man snapped out of his trance and glared at the boy murderously.
"Who the fuck are you and what are you doing here?" The pirate said, annoyed. He had a British accent and a beautiful and lilting voice, but the anger and threat in his voice and on his face made the pirate a little less attractive. Though nothing could make him unattractive. Alfred shifted nervously and hoped his blush had died off.
"I'm Alfred F. Jones and I well, I saw you lying in a bush yesterday morning and I well, 'cause I want to be useful and a hero, I just though you could use a little help with those bruises and I brought some band-aid... and well, it's nice to meet you." Alfred stammered but he managed to keep a smile on his face. The Brit only stared at him and snorted.
"Well, lad, I don't think you know who I am and who you're getting involved with. But I guess it's kinda nice for you to think about something like that. Though you're a noisy brat and an idiot and I'm not interested in you at all. Hand me those." Alfred handed the bandages with shaking hands and the Brit snatched them for himself.
"So, uh, what's your name? I kinda figured out that you're a pirate, but?" Alfred tensed as the pirate walked to him, face just centimeters from Alfred's own. The pirate smelled like scotch, sweat, dirt, semen and rotten food. Alfred was sure he hadn't washed himself in ages. The man was also a few inches shorter than he was and he had the most amazing eyes – big, sharp and emerald green. His gaze was fixed on Alfred and the pirate seemed to be a bit amused.
"Lad, you really don't understand. I could kill you any second if I wanted. I really appreciate the help but heck, you idiot! I'm Captain Kirkland and I can't remember how many I've killed, raped, tortured or hurt. I could do all those things to you, young lad. I suggest you leave this instant before I take advantage of you." Alfred gulped. Yes, his words made sense. It would cause him trouble if he stayed here. God knows what would happen to him. But yet he didn't want to. Something inside him told him that he shouldn't leave.
So he didn't.