Alfred whistled, looking up at the dark of the night sky being brought alive by twinkling stars and rainbows of explosions. It was loud, what with all the singing and shouting and whizzing and popping and banging and booming, but it felt lively and familiar, and warm and cosy, and like a home he knew and had always known. More than anything, it felt free.
"I don't see why we have to set off these fireworks." came a huffed voice behind the American, "The whole street…no, scratch that, the whole country is putting on a show enough for us." Alfred just grinned back at the Englishman struggling with the piles of boxes containing many, many kinds of fireworks. Multi-shot aerial displays, large skyrockets, novelty fireworks, sparklers, the whole sha-bang – he was planning to outdo the whole of the United States of America. Firework-wise.
"Artie, Artie, Artie…" Alfred shook his head and clicked his tongue, "You don't get it, do you?"
"Uh…" Arthur let out a grunt of relief as he placed the boxes on the dew-wet grass at his feet, "…No, I don't believe I do. Care for an explanation?" Alfred continued to grin as he hurried over to Arthur, wrapping an arm around the smaller man's shoulders and pulling him in to be heard over the racket, using the other hand to gesture at the colourful lights blowing up around them.
"You see these fireworks, Arthur?"
"I'm not blind, of course I bloody-!"
"Those aren't our fireworks, Arthur. Those are the neighbors' fireworks, Arthur. Those are the street's fireworks, Arthur. Those are the town's fireworks, Arthur. Those are the state's fireworks, Arthur. Those are the-"
"Okay, I get it!" Arthur half-laughed, half-cried, pushing the American away, "Those aren't our fireworks. What are you getting at?"
"You see these fireworks, Arthur?" Alfred gestured to the boxes at their feet, "These are our fireworks. These are like our children, which we shall tend to with loving care, and send off into the world – or the sky, in this case – when they are ready. These are the fireworks we can feel proud of as we watch them go, and as they explode we can say "Those are our fireworks. Not the neighbours', or the street's, or the town's, or the state's, or the country's. Those are ours". Get it?"
Arthur's lips twitched upward in a slight smile and he shook his head, "You're a barbarian."
Alfred laughed and took Arthur by the shoulders again, planting a feather-light kiss in his messy blonde hair, "You'd get bored of me if I wasn't."
Arthur laughed too, "Oh, so you think you're interesting, now?"
"Very." Alfred replied with a wink, bending down to deal with the boxes at hand. Arthur shook his head again, like he was prone to do at Alfred, and then adjusted his trousers so that he could get down and help Alfred open and take the goods out of the boxes. There was some bickering during this phase, as overzealous wasn't too good at being careful, much to Arthur's dismay. But, in time, they managed to get sorted (thanks to Arthur's organisational skills) and got started on the fire.
"Careful, Alfred." Arthur called from far behind as Alfred compiled the wood for the fire and readied the matches. Alfred waved it off with a swipe of his hand and got back to focusing on the fire. Originally, Arthur planned to set the wood alight. However, Alfred protested for three reasons:
One, he had seen the ungodly things Arthur did with fire in the kitchen, and he didn't want to see them practiced in their backyard; two, he wanted to be the heroic fire-lighter; and three, he didn't much fancy the thought of Arthur getting hurt during this phase. He could never tell Arthur the third reason though, or he would complain that he wasn't a porcelain doll or anything as fragile. Alfred thought he was just as precious though, if not more so. You can fix and replace porcelain dolls, but you can't fix or replace Arthur.
When Alfred finally got the fire going, he rushed back to Arthur and stood close beside him. "Feel like enough of a hero now?" the Briton asked with chattering teeth. Alfred smiled and shrugged off his bomber jacket, draping it over Arthur's own shoulders, much to the man's feeble protests.
"What are you talking about? I always feel like a hero."
"Yes, of course." Arthur signed, leaning into Alfred's arms, "I almost forgot that you think the sun shines out your arse."
"What do you mean think? I know it does."
"Whatever you say, love." Arthur sighed, nonchalantly patting the hand Alfred had wrapped around him, "Whatever you say."
They stood in silence then, which was unusual for Alfred, at least until the first firework shot up into the air. They watched in awe as it flew higher and higher, making a loud whizzing noise the whole way, and when it reached a certain point in the sky it burst into flowing ribbons of purple and green light. Another one followed shortly afterwards, banging louder than the last when it touched the highest height and crackling into multitudes of fizzy explosions.
"Do you get what I was saying before yet?" Alfred asked, looking down at Arthur, whom was gawking at the fireworks in the most amusing way.
"Somewhat. You're still an idiot though." Arthur replied, turning to laugh at Alfred, and taking the American's breath away in the process.
Another firework went off when Arthur turned to Alfred, and the colours of it reflected in Arthur's wide, forest-green eyes. The light shone over him and illuminated his snow-white skin, tainted only by the pink hue in his cheeks. To put it in a nutshell, he looked beautiful. Irresistible, really – this was probably why Alfred couldn't help but lift the Briton's chin up so as to land a kiss to those pink lips.
It was chaste, but Alfred found it to be one of the best damn kisses he had ever shared with Arthur, because of all the fireworks and stuff exploding and crackling and bursting around them. Due to the fact that Arthur returned the kiss, Alfred had reason to think that he thought the same, even if he did complain when they finally pulled away.
"What was that for?" he asked, brows furrowed but cheeks turning darker every second.
Alfred smiled and burst out with, "Baby you're a firework! Come on, let your colours burst! Make 'em go oh, oh, oh; you're gonna leave 'em falling dow-ow-own!"
"My God," Arthur chuckled, "you're a dreadful singer."
"Come on, baby." Alfred placed another kiss in Arthur's hair, inhaling the familiar scent of tea leaves and rainy days, "You're just jealous."
"I'm not a baby." Arthur harrumphed.
"Nah, you're my baby." Alfred beamed, pulling Arthur in for a nice, warm hug. Arthur just complied, too wise to continue to argue with the lad, and too cold to refuse the hug, and they continued to watch the fireworks in silence once more. Alfred wasn't exactly sure what Arthur was feeling, but he sure as heck knew how he himself felt: proud – proud to call the Englishman in his arms his Englishman; proud of these fireworks which were outdoing that of all America; proud to be a resident of this beautiful, free land. And even when the last firework had burst with colour and noise, and the remaining strips of light from it had spiraled back towards the ground, leaving Alfred and Arthur to end their night with the sparklers, that feeling of pride did not abandon him.
"Hey, Artie." Alfred piped up as he watched the light of his crackling sparkler fading. Arthur just hummed in response, too tired and too mesmerised by the sparkler to properly respond. "Does this day bug you?"
Arthur looked up then, blinking in confusion, "Why should it?"
Alfred shrugged slightly, "Just because our guys kinda kicked the butts of your guys. Y'know, for freedom and independence and stuff." It was silent for a bit, probably whilst Arthur contemplated what to say. Arthur was like that – he liked to organise and properly arrange his sentences before saying them, no matter how long it took. Alfred was also willing to bet that he checked and double-checked and perhaps even triple-checked his words before he voiced them. That was probably why Arthur always said the right thing under any and all circumstances. Alfred was quite the opposite – his brain couldn't keep up with his mouth, and he said things faster than he could think of things. That was probably why he often said the wrong thing.
"I'm not really bothered about this day." Arthur finally replied, "I rather like it, actually. Not for the whole independence thing, but for an entirely different reason."
"Hmm?" Alfred smiled, continuing to keep a watchful eye on his sparkler, although barely any of it remained, "Is it because this is the day the awesome love of your life came into existence?"
"S-shut up!" Arthur replied hastily, and Alfred chortled at the embarrassed Briton.
"You're too cute, Arthur." Alfred exhaled as his sparkler took its last breath before completely going out, "Ah, mine's dead."
"Alfred?" Arthur murmured quietly. Luckily the celebrations had quieted down enough for Alfred to hear him.
"Yeah, what?" he replied, turning to face Arthur, with his sparkler lighting up the blush in his cheeks.
"H…happy birthday." he said, leaning forward to press a kiss to the corner of Alfred's upturned lips.
Author's notes: This was a request from pie1313. She finds a couple watching fireworks together to be romantic, however cheesy it is. Whatever, I like cheese, so I did as she requested. Enjoy this USUK AU~
Actually, I quite like how it turned out. My writing isn't too bad today. If only it was like this every day. Or maybe I'm just best at one-shots. Who knows.
Well, whatever, the main thing to say here is HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY! \OvO/ I'm British, why am I so hyped? Meh, probably because I'm a Hetalia fan, and, furthermore, an Alfred fan. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ALFRED!
Critique is welcomed, comments are appreciated!
Thank you and enjoy!
Disclaimer: Alfred (America) and Arthur (England) belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.
AnorexicWalrus~