Author's note: Tumblr request (theircomingtotakemeaway): « Usuk? Date at a baseball park, cause Al's so smooth.. » This will probably be the only time I ever write USUK but I got to use my baseball knowledge.
Buy me some peanuts and cracker jacks
The third time Alfred's elbow makes contact with Arthur's head, the Englishman snaps. He throws those stupid cracker jacks the dimwit had bought him at the American first. Then he slaps him with the sports magazine Alfred had insisted on bringing so that Arthur could look up who was who in it. After that he tries to splash his drink (soda? really? Arthur has never once cared for soda, and that boy should know it) onto Alfred but the other is too quick for him by that point, grabbing his arms and pulling him in close. Which, all in all, is a smart move on the American nation's part: they both knew Arthur wouldn't want to get himself sticky with soda as well.
In the background there's the sound of the crowd going wild as someone hits the ball. Maybe it was a really good hit. Maybe it will be the sort of hit people will tell their children and grandchildren about for years. Maybe it will be remembered for years as a game that changed baseball for that one, solitary hit.
Arthur wouldn't know, his attention stolen away by the smirking man so close to him, their bodies pressed together.
"Idiot," he sighs before kissing Alfred.
The crowd cheers wildly.