Author's note: First, I'm sorry I haven't uploaded in a long time =/ I'm still writing the next chapter of I was meant to meet you, and another story, a UKUS, so it akes time. Plus my studies are... eating my free time, you have no idea! Anyway!

So I was greatly inspired by the Royal Wedding... So after doodling Arthur with Prince William's costume, I wanted to write a fic XD Well, more precisely, first I wanted to draw it. Like... A doujin, you know? I have so many ideas! I'll probably do some pages though~ But here, the fic XD There will be another chapter, this one is the prologue only ^^

Warnings: Mention of sex, but nothnig much really. Though I can promise there will be something in the next chapter! I titled the fic 'The Royal Wedding' because it's somehow based on the real Royal one, but there will be no mention of Catherine. Though maybe the two Princes and the Queen will be there~ I'll see!

Enjoy~!

Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.

~o~0~o~

Arthur Kirkland wasn't one to stress over such a little thing. And he sure wasn't feeling a tight lump in his throat as he waited for his boyfriend's answer.

So to summary it, maybe it wasn't a 'little thing' at all. Alright, you got me! It was the understatement of the year. Right now, Arthur Kirkland, the personification of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, was doing the most important thing he had ever done.

He was proposing to his boyfriend.

Lucky guy, who happened to be Alfred F. Jones, the personification of the United States of America. Him and England had been dating for decades now.

It all started when the British Empire won the American colony over France. England had raised the boy as if he were his own little brother, fed him, and offered him love and shelter. Sadly it wasn't that much of a peaceful time. The British Empire was at war on many parts of the globe and found less and less time to be with his colony. He started to tax the boy even more, trying to get money. It all resulted in the grown colony declaring his independence… and winning it. That was the fall of the British Empire.

Despite the resentment they could have felt, they met again, many times. When America entered the Second World War, England was having a hard time staying alive. But as a true hero, America saved his beloved. Yes, beloved. Alfred had come with the conclusion that his love for his ex-brother had morphed into true, real, pure love.

On the VE-Day, the had kissed. It was their first, and certainly not their last. America had confessed his love, and England –who was fully aware of his own love towards the obnoxious yet adorable American- had replied to the offered love.

And so, they were a couple since then.

Even though they often bickered over a few, meaningless things, they had promised not to leave each other again.

So, England thought, why not making this promise official? To be honest, it already had been a decade he was thinking about the idea. How would Alfred react? Would he be ready? Would he accept it?

A month ago though, Arthur pulled his courage all together and decided that yes, he would propose his lovely boyfriend.

And that's where he was now.

He had planned a lovely day, which he spent cuddling with America, doing embroidery while the American was watching some films. But in all honesty, the Brit didn't manage to finish anything he had started embroidering; he was too stressed, even if his boyfriend's warm arm around his shoulders was comfortable.

When he decided it was time, he urged the confused American to dress nicely, and did so himself.

Arthur found himself stunned when he saw Alfred coming downstairs, wearing a dark blue tuxedo, matching with his bright blue eyes with perfection. His golden blonde hair had been combed, even if there was still that special strand of hair defying gravity. His eyes sparkled with love and adoration when he spotted the Brit waiting for him.

The English man was wearing a light grey suit and a green tie. His beautiful emerald green orbs were watching the other man with full attention. His sandy blonde hair was as messy as always, but Alfred found himself not caring. His boyfriend was perfect however he was.

When they got in the car, America asked where the hell they could be going so suddenly, but his question was only met by silence and a smile on the Briton's lips.

They had finally made it t to the restaurant England had reserved a table for them in, and America's curiosity only grew. It was quite a fancy restaurant; he understood now the whole nice dressing thing.

Arthur had tried to find the courage to get on one knee and propose America more than one time during their meal. But he was thinking too much about the consequences. Though he had already been this far, he wasn't about to give up now, that would just be ungentlemanly.

After they ate the dessert and England paid the bill –with some difficulties, because America (as the hero he was) wanted to pay for them- and they went out. England suggested a walk in the nearby park and America accepted while raising a brow in curiosity and confusion. He had noticed the other man's odd behavior during the whole day, but the blush on the English man's face right now was more interesting than anything else. However he waited, not pressing his lover.

Arthur stopped walking when they were near a fountain, where he thought there was a nicer atmosphere. There was nobody around them, the moon and some street lights were their only night. Perfect.

England took a deep breath before talking. "Alfred… There is something I'd like to ask you," his tone was soft, tender and yet anxious. America didn't notice the last part.

"Yeah sure, babe! What's it?" the American asked, standing right in front of his beloved. So he was finally going to know what was going on!

"Well…" England cleared his throat, searching his words. Damnit, he had tried all night to find them! But right now it was as if the adrenaline rushing through his veins were making his mind going blank, empty. His heart was beating so fast he feared he'd have a heart attack. The English man cleared his throat once again. "I… We've been together for seventy years now and… and my love for you never changed since then," America blinked, not quite knowing what to say. England continued. "Alfred, love, what I-I mean is… that I… w-want to spend the rest of my life with y-you, no matter what could happen," he found a bit more confidence when, slowly, America's eyes widened in realization.

"Arthur…" the American whispered, not believing his ears, ad wondering if hi mind wasn't playing with him for making him think that England was… he was… proposing to him. England blushed, and slowly, he keeled in front of his lover, and soon-to-be fiancé. Or so he thought.

"Alfred, I love you more than anything else in the world. You only can make me happy like I am right now with you. Alfred F. Jones…" England took another deep breath. Damn his heart was beating even faster! What if he was doing something wrong? What if- No, he shouldn't think of that right now. Arthur moved his hands to reach in his pocket. He took out a small, dark blue velvet-covered box. He opened it slowly so Alfred could see its content. A simple silver ring glowered under the moon light. A precious treasure. "Will you marry me?"

There, he had said it. After a decade of wondering, he had finally made it. Now for the worst part.

England looked at America, who was blushing, his eyes still wide at the confession. He couldn't believe it! England, Arthur, the love of his life, just proposed to him! That was the first time the United States of America was stunned to silence. Oh, damn, yes, that's right; he had to say something, didn't he?

America was still staring at England, without a word. Did I do something wrong? Arthur wondered. Only the soft noise coming from the fountain was disturbing his thoughts. Maybe it wasn't a good idea after all… England slowly lowered his hands, hurt.

America wasn't as dense as some people seemed to thin. Here, he could easily see the hurt, reject and sadness in his lover's green eyes. And all of that because of him. Shit! What kind of hero was he to make his boyfriend sad… especially under these circumstances, none the less!

Before he knew it, he felt something wet rolling down his cheek. What was- He reached up to touch his cheek and felt water on his fingers. Was he… crying? England broke the silence.

"Alfred…?" he asked as he saw the tears, concern obvious in his voice. "Are you… alright? I know I shouldn't have… I-I'm terribly sorry, Alfred!"

The American blinked one time, the two. When he finally found his voice again, he spoke. "A-Artie… I'm ha-happier than I've ever been!" his voice broke at the end of the sentence. America sobbed and fell on his knees. Soon enough, England found himself wrapped in a tight embrace. America was hugging the life out of his lover, arms around his neck, crying. "I love you Arthur! Y-You have n-no idea just… just how much!"

England's eyes widened. D-Did that mean… "Alfred, is t-that a…" he didn't have to finish his sentence though. America let go of his lover's neck and grabbed both of his cheeks to pull him in a kiss. When he broke it, he whispered. "Yes," And he kissed England once again. Another "Yes," and another kiss followed. He repeated the action over and over again, until England ran his free hand in the American's hair, keeping his lips on his own for a moment.

When they broke apart, with swollen lips, England's eyes were wet, and America's ones were red and puffy. But both were shining with happiness and love.

"I love you, Alfred," England whispered, and America kissed him again.

Finally, England showed the box to America and took the ring. With a fond smile, he put the box back in his pocket, and took America's left hand. The American was grinning in excitation and blushed a brighter shade of pink.

Arthur brought the hand to his lips and kissed Alfred's left ring finger before slipping the ring on it.

When it was done, they both looked at it in adoration. Without a word, they crashed their lips together in a passionate kiss. America nipped on England's lower lip, and was granted access quickly. He pushed his tongue against Arthur's, licking everything he could reach. And hell if it didn't taste good.

England's wet muscle was swirling around America's in a slow rhythm. When they both lacked oxygen in their lungs, they pulled away smiling.

"It must be the best day of my life, babe," America grinned.

"And so is it for me, love," England sighed in relief and contentment, letting go of all his doubts, fears and stress.

He was happier than one could be.

They ended the day together in England's bed. Needless to say, their activities this night –the whole night to be precise- left them breathless, spent and content. No one cared about the strained sheets for now. All that mattered was the presence of the other, the warmth of the embrace and knowing that their love would never fade.