Title: A Night of Sin
Summary: Alfred overtakes Arthur one night while he is drunk, but Arthur doesn't seem to remember a thing. When will the guilt be enough for the secret to come out? USXUK
Rating: T for teen .
Disclaimer: Yeah, so Hetalia does not belong to me…Blah blah… If it did I would certainly be more awesome than Prussia, yes?
A/N : I want to thank Haya-chan, whom on here is known as Mew Bakas, for being my Prussia awesome editor! I don't know where I'd be without her. Crying in a ditch somewhere probably….\ Anywaaays, hope you like it! My first Hetalia Fic, evar. ;3
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Chapter one: The Unbearable Guilt
Oh God.
Oh God.
What was he doing?
Tears formed at the edges of his eyes.
He was suffocating Arthur with his uncontrollable emotions.
He could not willingly refrain himself any longer
"N-nggh. A-Alfred…" The half conscious Brit looked at him, his mind so obviously not in this world that any person with common sense could tell you that he was drunk. Too drunk to barely move at this point, though he did seem to have some small acknowledgment of what Alfred was doing. Alfred felt his shaky hands moving towards the Brit's pants, only earning a halfhearted groan from the older nation underneath him. Hearing the noises emitting from the smaller nation, Alfred felt his hands move without hesitation now, too blinded with want. What was he doing? How could he be doing this? His hands were moving on their own accord now, even if his thoughts were screaming at him to stop. He should have known better.
There was a small gasp, more movements, then simply an almost lethargic nod.
Alfred moved on, even if he could see Arthur was totally out of it. The Brit would slip from this world any second, but he held on for some reason, his hands loosely resting on the American's head with the blonde strands intertwined in his fingers gently. More groans filled the room as Arthur's grip on Alfred tightened, pulling on the blonde strands with force.
Yes, Arthur was too drunk.
Too drunk to do anything.
Too drunk to remember anything.
Flash back
He found Arthur in the bar just as expected, though he hadn't expected for him to be singing old English songs with others at the top of his lungs. He started laughing a little as he entered, his smile widening as if it was a funny fact that he spotted him this easily. Arthur's voice really was easily distinguished from others when he was drunk.
He wanted to tell him why he had come here, but now it seemed that it would be a challenge just to get Arthur home. The thought never crossed his mind that when he came to visit Arthur, tonight was one of his drinking nights. Also, he seemed more wasted than usual, which made Alfred think a little as to why. Shrugging it off, he decided he would help him home before anything bad happened. He knew he had a tendency to get a little crazy while he was drunk and then get all sad about it the next morning. At least he had come at the right time! He could save Arthur the embarrassment! Oh, he'd so be the hero and take Arthur home and when he woke up in the morning Alfred would make Arthur tell him how awesome he was for saving him. Yes, it sounded like a great plan!
Well, in his mind it sounded great, but when he walked over to the Brit, the happy smile was shot down with a deathly harsh glare as soon as he was recognized.
"Fuck...uggg... you doin' 'ere?"
Alfred's eye narrowed as he tried to put Arthur's sentence together, finding his words too confusing and slurred. Finally, after he got it right, it clicked. Ah, that's what he said! Oh, well- Hey, wait, that wasn't very nice! Well...Arthur was drunk.. so he probably shouldn't expect any different.
Brushing it off with a laugh, a smile easily spread across his face. "Iggy! Come on! I just wanted to tell you something amazing! Seeing as you're drunk, though, I guess I have to take you home since you probably won't remember anything I say." Now the plan could go in motion! Yes! Though, when Alfred went to touch his arm, Arthur backed off and glared at American incredulously. He knew as Arthur was about to go on a rant again, he noticed the Brit swayed a little in his chair, slumping off of it moments later.
Alfred simply let out a small laugh as he dragged Arthur up to sit him back down in the chair, looking over the drunk Brit over with small amusement. Eh, maybe just sitting here with him for a couple beers would be nice, even if he was well aware of how Arthur yelled and really couldn't come up with a coherent conversation while he was drunk.
He ordered himself a beer and sat down in the chair next to Arthur. He didn't know why he did, but tonight...he just felt like he had needed one. He found that he glanced back over to the obviously angry English man once before downing the drink that was in front of him. After that was finished, he let out a small sigh, knowing that if Arthur were going to be this drunk, he wouldn't be able to enjoy being here with him. He was right. He didn't think he would ever be able to enjoy drinking with Arthur.
He might as well take him home now...Ready to stand up, he realized there was another beer in front of him. The bartender simply gave a small wink and Alfred let out a small laugh, feeling immensely awkward all of the sudden. Not wanting any trouble, he downed the second one in no time, cringing at the bitter taste left on his tongue. Things seemed to feel a little weird too. Oh well. Really, now he should take Arthur home. His gaze drifting back to the oddly silent English man, he was met with a weird stare.
What the? Arthur was yelling earlier and now he was just giving weird stares? Soon enough though, Arthur's face turned to that of accusation once more. "You stupid git! I haaaate you! Fuck you! Never fuckin' appreciated what 'ey did fur ye!" a very drunk England yelled at the top of his lungs, small tears forming at the edges of his eyes as his face turned a bright, burning red color. That was unexpected. The alcohol must really be getting to him.
Worry lines appearing on his face, he got up and took Arthur out of the seat in the pub, deciding it was now time to leave. He left the pub seconds later with the Brit slung over his shoulder, no matter how many protests or kicks were thrown. Even if Arthur was drunk, it still hurt that he was doing these types of things, like the kicking and swearing. Did he really hate him that much? Did he hold back his hatred until he decided to let it out while he was drunk? The very thought made Alfred's chest tighten as his breaths came a little shakily. He shouldn't feel this bad about it, but he did. Arthur was his former father figure, so having fights with him all of the time was simply building up in the American, even if he pretend to brush them off like they meant nothing. It hurt. Why was he feeling like this?
As they walked -well, more Alfred walking while Arthur was carried - along, Alfred had found Arthur calmed down a little as he made his way to Arthur's house. Eventually there, he set Arthur down as he let out a sigh. Arthur stood there almost in a dazed like state now, leaning against a wall to support himself. He didn't look so good. The door was locked when Alfred had tried to open it, so reluctantly, he went to Arthur to get the key.
Being in the state the English man was in, the American was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to open the door, let alone get the key out from his own pocket. Another sigh was let out as Alfred made a split second decision and put both hands in Arthur's pockets, finally retrieving a key after a few seconds of searching. Thank God they were there, otherwise it would have felt a little more uncomfortable for him. He may have felt bad for doing it, but he needed the house open.
Arthur started to protest behind him, but the door was soon opened and he dragged Arthur inside. As soon as they were in, Alfred whipped off his shoes then and looked over to Arthur with a grin, only to let a confused look pass his face moments later. Arthur was giving him one of those weird, quizzical looks again. About to ask a question as to why, he saw the man's face heat up again as anger replaced the quizzical look on his face.
"What the bloody hell? Get out!" he smaller nation yelled.
Alfred, getting even more confused, felt a strange feeling of indignation build up with inside of him. What the hell? He'd just brought him home and now Arthur was kicking him out? Arthur may be drunk, but he was being too much of an asshole.
"You prick!" Arthur yelled randomly. He swayed more as to where he leaned on the wall against the entrance then, head drooping a little. It seemed he still had the energy to yell at Alfred for no apparent reason though, even if he looked like he may pass out any moment. Just what the hell was his problem? It was really starting to piss Alfred off now rather than get him confused and surprised.
"Fuckin' go away! You...ugh.. Dammit it all! And after I took you in and everything! Stupid, stupid, stupid," he repeated over and over, eyes completely glazed over.
Why did Arthur have to be like this? Why did he have to act as if he never cared? He was fighting again, simply blaming Alfred for everything. He really must hate him for that. Hearing Arthur repeating stupid over and over again, something snapped.
Something deep with in his fun loving self had snapped.
"Dammit! Shut up already!" he growled loudly, pinning the Brit whom he had escorted home against the wall in seconds. "I'm so fucking sick of this!"
Surprised, Arthur simply let out a gasp of helplessness in response, fidgeting uncomfortably as he realized through his dazed thoughts that he may be in danger of some sort. One second he was the one yelling at the American and now the tables were turned.
That was enough to break the American. That was enough to keep him from holding back anymore. That one small gasp – it had changed everything.
Forcefully pressing his lips to the other nation's for reasons unknown to himself, he felt Arthur fall down from in front of him, either too surprised to respond or too drunk to do anything about it. Good. Not hearing of the usual protests, it gave way for Alfred to cave in. To cave in to what he had been desiring and holding himself back from doing. He too, then went down to the floor with Arthur.
In the midst of his blurry and hazy mind, one small thought cried out to him. Shocked, the thought slowed him down from what he was doing, and a heavy cloud was lifted from his mind. Before the vile deed could be finished, before he went through with it completely, Alfred found himself and pulled back. Scrambling away from Arthur in seconds, he tried to calm his quickened heartbeat, even if his ears picked up on what seemed to be groans of protest from the half conscious Brit. His eyes glanced over at the scene once more, finding it so sickeningly wrong that his face paled. Soon enough, he backed up even more, the lust washing away from his body as he realized in full force what he had done. His shocked blue eyes reflected the scene before him, suddenly letting out choked gasp.
Arthur had passed out a couple seconds ago.
Regret washed over him.
At least he hadn't gone through with the entire 'deed'. He had almost though…
He'd almost done it.
He'd almost taken Arthur unwillingly. Against his will...What the hell was wrong with himself? Just...what was going through his mind? He may have had a few beers, but that didn't impair his judgment, did it? No matter how much he would like to blame it on the beer, he knew in his heart he couldn't. No, he was fully aware now of what he had done. That whole deal had been based on some sort of lustful want, yet hate. With the Brit impaired like that, he found his body couldn't help but want to gain the touch it had yearned for. He wanted to see Arthur act like that because of him. Saying Alfred's name, even if he wouldn't remember what he had done.
Well, Alfred got what he wanted, now unable to shake the disgusted feeling from himself.
The American stood up slowly, shaking violently as he looked at the disheveled Brit before him. He...couldn't just leave him here like this...No. Fixing Arthur's pants and clothes, he felt his stomach drop, unable to look at Arthur any longer. Just a little more...As he bent back down, he picked Arthur up from the floor and brought him to he bedroom to lay him down on the bed gently, fixing him up just a little more. Horror spread across his face as he left the Brit on the bed, fear suddenly gripping him at what he suddenly realized he had just done.
He'd put Arthur in the bed and fixed his clothes up as if he could hide the evidence.
As if he may be able to erase what he had done.
No way was he able to do that now.
After that, the memory was all a blur. The memory of how fast he had ran out of England's house.
Dashing out from the scene into fresh air, he staggered across the street, too shocked with himself to know where he was going. He was a little tipsy from the few beers he decided to have. Everything seemed to become heightened. The lights shone brighter, stinging his eyes. People's voices grew louder, hurting his ears. Everything he tried to touch...it felt oddly numb. Finally making his way down the slightly busy street and into a park where there were less people, he tried to calm himself. It was already so late in the night. He should get home.... Suddenly, he remembered the reason why he had come here in the first place.
The reason was that he wanted to tell Arthur his recent adventures at a new zoo that had opened up. He hoped to take the Brit there on a happy adventure, yet when he came here it turned out to be the same old thing. Arthur wasn't home, he eventually assumed the worst and went to the bar to find him there, and then things just unfolded from that point on.
He stumbled along in the streets as he started to freak out again, and all too soon enough he felt himself lurch over and empty his stomach behind a bush in the park, burning hot tears welling up from the sides of his eyes. Why did he have to go and drink too? Now here he had gone and got himself all worked up. He should…go home.
Yes, that was what he should do.
Ah, and he forgot that there was a meeting tomorrow! At his place! He almost wanted to cry. He really was an idiot like everyone said he was. He never thought things through, did he? He really did act like a child, just like everyone had said. He knew he wouldn't be able to talk or let alone look at Arthur. He wouldn't be able to look at any of the nations.
Would Arthur remember?
No, of course not.
How wasted he was, he was sure to have a blackout.
How would he tell Arthur what he had done? How would he face up to him? He…was the hero right? Things would turn out all right.
Heroes never overtook people.
Heroes were the ones to save young girls from getting their virtue taken by evil villains.
He…couldn't be a hero now.
The role he played tonight was that of a villain.
He was a disgusting, sickening villain. One night of pleasure just to comfort himself from the pain. The pain of Arthur acting like he hated him every day. He could see it. See the regret in Arthur's eyes every time he looked at him. He never wished he raised him. He loathed Alfred's very existence. It was too much, even for the fun loving, optimistic American. Things lost meaning when he was around Arthur. Hamburgers? No, they tasted worse when the Brit was around. Being a hero? No, he could never be a hero when Arthur was around. Arthur had gotten to him that much, no matter how much of a facade he tried to put on.
He soon enough pulled up from the bush he had been sick behind, looking around the park with apprehensive, yet tired eyes. He was still so young, but now he felt so tired. Not just the sort of exhaustion tired either. Removing himself from the park as he made his trek on the way back home, he was still shell-shocked over what he was done.
His house eventually reached by means of various transportation, he opened the door quickly and quietly. Before anyone could say anything, he went to his room, locked the door, and sat there for the rest of the night. No, he wouldn't be able to sleep no matter how he wanted to try and escape the bad memories for a few hours of rest.
The guilt was too much to bear.
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A/N : First chapter finished. So, you know my request. Reviewing shall keep this story alive! Well, unless you think it was total fail…I hope not. ): I promise I'll try to write as fast as time allows me! Ah… it's slipping away again~ Come back time! );
