Y e s! FINALLY encouragement to finally (/finally/) write about one of my main (*cough*thekingofmy*cough*) otps! Also from a request on my Tumblr, url is eranishxd

It was raining and, well… I love the rain. Ehehe, enjoy!~ (Side note: not my fault I accidentally had Helpless on repeat for an hour and now it's the only song I can remember.)

Warnings: Extreme fluff, extra sweet, plotless cuddling, some Hamilton thrown in because backspacing is hard now.

Domestic!USUK

"Look into your eyes, and the sky's the limit…"

It wasn't Arthur's fault he had yet another one of America's Broadway musicals stuck in his head. Well, in truth, the fact didn't really bother him as much as he let on. Some of America's quirks might have actually rubbed off on him. Not that he minded that either, of course.

Arthur continued to absentmindedly mutter out the song, mumbling or humming in place of the lyrics he couldn't remember. It was raining outside; quite heavily, in fact. Wind whipped at the trees and bushes in the garden, distant lightning streaks broke out in the gray sky. Arthur watched from his cozy, warm spot by the window as the ladder resting on the side of Alfred's shed toppled over from the wind.

Most of the time, Arthur hated days like this. The rain always gave him a feeling of dread and sluggishness. Not to mention that he'd escaped from his own drizzling weather back in London, only to be greeted by a storm in the States.

Now however, curled up in a warm blanket on one of America's plush sofas he'd moved over to the window, with a mug of hot tea in his hands, he felt greatly at ease. The rain didn't seem to be trapping him inside, but rather giving him a sense of comfort, that he was warm and indoors, and not out there cold and tired.

Yes, in a certain situation, he did like the rain.

"Oh, you got me helpless… Down for the count, and I'm—"

"And you said the song was 'annoying'."

England scowled. He could practically hear the cheeky grin in the other's voice.

"I said you were annoying, you dumb git."

"So you do like it. You like the musical!" America laughed.

England rolled his eyes. Still, he refused to look towards the doorway where he knew Alfred was standing. "Yes, I do. Now, are you just going to stand there being a cocky idiot about it or what?" he grumbled.

A few padded footsteps later, he felt the cushions sink and America's familiar warmth envelope him. He shifted a bit to allow the other some space, and soon America's legs were up on the couch, arms around England's torso and nuzzling his scalp, while the latter had his head resting against the other's chest.

Yes, this was an ideal situation.

The ring on Arthur's finger clinked against the mug as he took another sip of tea, after which he rested his hands above America's entwined ones, grinning as he saw the matching ring on his finger.

Seeing the rings always sent a flutter through England's chest. Alfred sure knew how to take 'Special Relationship' to a whole new level. He wasn't even surprised the bloody wanker got the Queen involved in the whole ordeal; although he had to admit, it was rather sweet.

He was never one to brand America of all people as a hopeless romantic, but an elaborate surprise set-up, a huge bouquet, a romantic dinner, fireworks, and the fact that he'd planned it for over three months…

Heh. Still, it wasn't simply some cliché theme stolen from a movie. He'd actually planned it out. It had been just them the whole time, the décor was simple and very akin to England's liking, the food was delectable and actually prepared by Alfred himself- later admitting he had some help with France and Italy- and his little 'speech' wasn't the least bit pre-written or memorized. Alfred admitted he wanted everything to be sincere.

'Nobody was perfect', huh? Arthur begged to differ.

"What'cha thinking about?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing…just…"

Arthur tried not to flush as his husband nuzzled his neck, planting one or two soft kisses on the skin.

"Just what?" He mumbled, sending a rush of warmth through England. He smiled.

"Just you."

England's smile only grew as America laughed. "You're in an unnaturally sappy mood today." He remarked, and planted another kiss to Arthur's neck. "So… can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"You really liked Hamilton?"

Oh. Well, of course he did. Wait… was that… doubt in America's voice? Fear? Apprehension? Either of the three... Ah, yes.

"Mm… even if it is about your 'Revolution', there's no doubt, it's one hell of a musical. You said it yourself, all that is behind us now. Besides…" he said, craning his neck to look his husband in the eye. Alfred was pouting, but looking hopeful all the same. "I loved it."

That had him smiling. "Just like you love me?" He crooned.

Arthur had to roll his eyes at that. Then again, he wasn't in the mood for lying. "No, I love you far more." he said, then quickly added in a, "Bloody git…" Just for good measure.

Alfred laughed. "Aw, I love you too." He planted a firm kiss on Arthur's lips before he could turn away—not that the latter was complaining. They both broke away grinning, and Arthur rested his head back against Alfred's chest.

The rain still raged on outside, the sky was beginning to grow dimmer and England was very certain that the tulips he'd planted the other day were now uprooted and laying somewhere in the front yard.

"Hey… your tea's all gone."

Arthur glanced into his mug. "I suppose it is."

"Do you want me to go get you more?" He smiled at Alfred's offer, but shook his head.

"No, it's fine," He said. "Besides, you make a good pillow."

"Alright," Alfred laughed. "You make a good teddy-bear too."

"Mm… can't argue with that."

Yeah… at one point I almost clawed my face off because (*lowkey screaming*Ishipitsofuckinghard)

Okay, thanks for reading, tell me what you think!

~Nixh