Early morning light seeped in through the drawn in blinds, bleeding through into the living room where a certain hung over Brit laid, sprawled out deliciously half naked on the ratty old couch, face smooched up against a pillow. Arthur grunted; drool spilling from his mouth as his eyes slowly but gradually opened up. Immediately he regretted doing so as an awful pounding came to the front of his temple, seemingly screaming at him for being so foolish once again for drinking so much. He groaned softly, nimbly lifting his arm up and placing it against his puffed up eyes. The previous night blurred out for him and he was glad for that; his drunken-self tended to do idiotic things to the people around him. With another pained moaned, Arthur sat up from the cushiony fabric, scrunching up his face and cracking his shoulders back from the stiffness. He sighed, slinging his arms down to rest in his lap as he tried to overcome the nausea that was already flooding over him. What made it worst was that a annoyingly familiar voice drifted up to his ears, pulling his attention to the man singing quite contently in his kitchen.

"This one is for the boys with the booming system, top down, AC with the cooling system," Alfred sang loudly, stirring the strips of bacon around with a fork. He had an apron slung around his bare waist, his American flagged boxers extremely obnoxious. "When he come up in the club, he be blazin' up, got stacks on deck like he savin' up," Shimming his hips, he skipped over and checked on the toast, deeming them close to being done and taking out the nutella, uncapping the jar and stuffing a finger in, greedily licking it up as he waited for the food.

"And he ill, he real, he might got a deal, he pop bottles and he got the right kind of bill. He cold, he dope, he might sell coke~" Arthur groaned again, more loudly so that his voice would carry itself to the American. Alfred hesitated before continuing on, laughter hidden deep within his voice. "He always in the air, but he never fly coach, he a muthafuckin trip, trip, sailor of the ship, ship," He sang, wandering over and leaning over Arthur with a smirk painted onto his lips. "when he make it drip, drip kiss him on the lip, lip~" He sighed, closing the distance between them and ghosting his lips against the burning flush of the Briton. Despite the awful hangover, Arthur could feel a small smile light up his face, his heart racing just from the small touch. Laughing once more, Alfred gently pulled the other to his feet and dragged him over to the kitchen.

"That's the kind of dude I was lookin' for, and yes you'll get slapped if you're lookin' hoe," He stopped, posing erotically, grinning like a mad man when Arthur chuckled softly. He pulled the other into an embrace, snaking his arms around his boyfriend's waist and grating their hips together. "I said, excuse me you're a hell of a guy, I mean my, my, my, my you're like pelican fly," Arthurbreathed out gently, relaxing into the man's arms. He watched with half lidded eyes as the American leaned in, attaching their lips together in a chaste kiss.

"I mean, you're so shy and I'm loving your tie, you're like slicker than the guy with the thing on his eye, oh!" Alfred chortled, trailing his hands down until they lightly cupped Arthur's ass. Yelping, Arthur glared gently at the other, later pressing down onto those roaming hands and sending a smirk of his own.

"Yes I did, yes I did, somebody please tell him who the F I is," Alfred threw back his head and yelled out, beaming brightly in apology as Arthur winced from his headache. "I am Alfred F. Jones, I mack them Brits up, back coupes up, and chuck the deuce up~!" Without hesitation this time, Alfred kissed Arthur feverishly, gently moving his lips against the others. Their bare chests were flushed up tight against the other, their hands concurring and itching for more than this simple kiss. All too soon, Arthur broke the kiss, his eyebrows pulling together as he smiled at the other, blushing lightly as he sang back.

"Boy you got my heartbeat runnin' away, beating like a drum and it's coming your way~ Can't you hear that boom, badoom, boom, boom, badoom, boom, bass," He leaned in and graced his mouth on Alfreds cheek. "Yeah that's that super bass." He whispered in the others ear quietly. Laughing once more, Alfred tightened his hold and nuzzled into the Briton's shoulder.

"'Morin' Artie~"


Disclaimer: Hetalia is owned by Hidekaz Himaruya. Super Bass belongs to Nicki Minaj.