Author: Enkou Sokugetsu
Title: The burg-ahem-bone of contention
Fandom: Hetalia
Genre: fluffy, romantic comedy. Pointless and short.
Characters: Alfred (USA), Arthur (UK)
Pairings: Alfred x Arthur
Rating: K+. Some minor shonen-ai, you can definitely see worse stuff on TV, nowadays.
Summary: Inviting the likes of Alfred Jones to dine at yours can be surprisingly challenging. Even more so if you happen to be Sir Arthur Kirkland. [Shonen Ai, Romance, Comedy]
Disclaimer: Hetalia is not mine. But I'm Italian, heck, this must count as something, right? :D
Special Thanks: to my auntie, for beta-ing all my works, this included!
Dedicated to: my auntie and to anyone who loves some UsUk sweet stuff!
Notes: English is not my native language. If you spot any mistakes, please do tell me and I'll do my best to correct them! I really don't know why, but I'm sort of fond of this fic.
The burg-ahem-bone of contention
A good way to make sure someone like Alfred Jones would stop for dinner was preparing a knee-high stack of food fat enough to fill even that seemingly bottomless stomach of his.
One of the few advantages of the so-called junk-food, is the fact that it's readily available and mostly easy to make – but even something as simple as deicing three or four damned disks of meat and making them look edible was an incredibly hard task for the likes of Sir. Arthur Kirkland.
As soon as he had put them in the steaming pan, a thick column of smoke raised, making him rush to the fire extinguisher before realizing not even a pig like Alfred would eat burgers covered in potassium bicarbonate.
After a few panicking moments, the fog cleared and the meat looked almost good as he flipped it over quickly.
Almost one hour later, he had produced four big, succulent hamburgers – even if the bread was broken in a few spots and seemed way more crumbly than it should. And then, even if they were far from perfect, that fat idiot's smile widened in joy as soon as he had shown him his suffered creation.
However, right when Arthur was about to rejoice for his evident success, with an incredibly expert movement, the American separated meat from bread, and with the aid of a butter knife, started stuffing the originally empty gap between carbohydrates and proteins with a thick, greasy layer of ketchup.
Ah!
So he did not trust his cooking skills, after all! That yankee jerk!
Or maybe he was being too paranoid and that stupid four-eyed did just like that red, fat sauce.
As Alfred stopped spreading the juicy relish and happily licked the knife, Sir Arthur Kirkland sighed in relief.
But only to gasp in horror when the aforementioned moron dipped that same blade into a mayonnaise jar, spreading the white dressing over the red one, and even going as far as to happily hum as he did.
Angered, the gentleman lost in a second all his gentlemanly composure, hitting the wooden table with the flat of his hand and making the three poor burgers Alfred had yet to "correct" hop before landing down ungraciously and more disarrayed than before.
"YOU DON'T LIKE THEM, DO YOU?"
The American titled his end, ooh-ing a little at the jumping burgers and then staring wide-eyed at the Englishman shouting a few inches away from his nose.
"I didn't even eat them! How can you tell?"
The scowl on Arthur's face deepened "YOU'RE STUFFING THEM WITH ALL THOSE...CREAMS! YOU WANT TO COVER THE TASTE, RIGHT? TO MAKE THEM EDIBLE, DON'T YOU?"
"Eeeeeeh?" was the blondie's honest reply "No, no, no! No way! But how can you eat a burger without ketchup and mayonnaise! They make it juicy and more...tasty, you know.." he tried to smile.
But the other one didn't relent, slapping his hand again on the table "You've put half a jar of stuff in there! That's not normal! You want to soak them, right? YOU ARE MAKING FUN OF THE DINNER I MADE ESPECIALLY FOR YOU!"
Alfred Jones sighed in earnest, shaking his head a little. He fetched one of the neglected burgers and gave it a generous bite, before talking with his mouth still open and leaking crumbs "See? I do...munch...like it...munch...even without...sauces..."
Setting aside for a second the unbecoming show of the flying pieces of bread, Sir Arthur Kirkland gasped again, this time in surprise. Maybe, he had been too quick to judge the airhead, this time, maybe he was really just a … massive sauce eater?
"...munch...and them I'm the hero...munch...some horrible hamburgers could never win me over!"
Or maybe not.
A new, angrier grimace formed on the gentleman's face as he watched Alfred strike a victorious pose and a bright smile to underline his concept. He closed his first so hard to make his knuckles whiten and then charged against the jerk.
"IDIOT! STUPID! YANKEE! FAT!"
The American avoided being hit by an inch, his hands seizing his opponent's wrists and pulling him closer, until he stumbled to sit on his lap.
Instantly, the scowl turned into a blush, and then into a sort of flushed glare that looked almost too cute to be real.
Alfred lips caught Arthur's ones and the Englishman couldn't help but think that a kiss that tasted like meat and bread was definitely weird. Then, when he realized he had given in to his former protegee, he started kicking and tossing like a cat in a bucket of water, forcing him to fasten his arms securely around his waist, holding him still.
"There, there...I said that I like them anyway, and I even showed you, what's wrong?"
Arthur still tried to fight back for a long while, before finally relenting, head hung down in defeat and embarrassment.
"I...you don't appreciate my cooking..." he muttered "and...you don't appreciate me..."
"Huh...?" the four-eyed blondie made him rise his chin to look him in the eye "...hey... you know that's not true...I have said that some badly cooked burgers wouldn't kill me, that's right, but... truth is that I want to eat only your badly cooked hamburgers, you know?"
The thick-browed boy's eyes widened, and his blush went from rosy pink to tomato red. His small fingers grabbed Alfred's shirt and he perched over, kissing him of his own free will. The hug tightened and the two kissed for a long while, before parting, completely breathless and flustered, forehead rested against forehead.
"...meh...Alfred...?" spoke up the Englishman after a long while, still trying to catch his breath "You shouldn't eat so much junk food. Kiku said... that mayonnaise and ketchup are really greasy and...it's not good for your health, you know?" he concluded gingerly.
The American burst out in a heartfelt laughter, tossing his head back "I'm invincible, you should know it! And, talking about bad habits, you should stop eating so many steamed potatoes. I know they're easy to make and impossible to fail, but if you keep preparing them every single day you'll turn into a potato yourself! A steamed potato with fuzzy eyebrows, ihihihih...!"
"M-MORON!"
"...ihihihih...fuzzy-brows potato...!"
"S-SHUT UP..!"
Two hours later, there was no trace left of the burgers of contention but some crumbles scattered here and there on the table. The same table that, by end of the night, would become the place where Alfred Jones claimed his personal, "rightfully earned dessert" directly from Sir Arthur's lips.
o-O-o Owari o-O-o
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