I don't know….I have ten-million songs stuck in my head every month and now I'm expressing it through cliché lovey-dovey moi moi desu-nee kawaii yaoi…dammit. Based on music boxes, just because love them so dang much X3

READ THIS WARNING GODAMMIT: I absolutely suck at writing Fanfiction…this will be OOC, dumb, ect.

England's Music Box: www (dot) youtube (dot) com/watch?v=Fqv9oCbghLo&feature=related

America's Music Box: www (dot) youtube (dot) com/watch?v=lIdb3_rN1c4&feature=related

Replace the (dot)s with . if you don't know

.:. . . . .:.

If all of our hearts could play a little melody, what would yours sound like? Arthur Kirkland's was sometimes a sweet little bell, like a music box when he was at peace. Very few could activate that soothing melody, the lovely little tinkling sound that his heart made. He kept a metal barrier around his heart so no one could hear that little, as he would call it, 'girly' music box. When he was with certain people, their hearts would come into unison momentarily and create some of the wonderful songs people heard on the radio and an especially lovely melody when he was with Alfred. Every time he heard this song in particular, he would blush and disconnect their hearts. Every time, Alfred would just stand there and think 'why did he disconnect our hearts...? It was such an awesome song…' like the idiot he was.

. .YUM.:.

"Oh, konichiwa, Arthur-san. What might you be doing here?" Kiku smiled at Arthur.

"Oh nothing, I just wanted to talk with a friend." He smiled back politely.

"I see, what might you want to talk about?"

"Ah…did you understand those English questions well? I could tutor you, if you want."

"That would be wonderful, Arthur-san; I have been having a bit of trouble with English lately…"

"I see, I have some free time around lunch, is that fine?"

"Yes, that is fine. Arigato, Arthur-san."

He left the Japanese boy just as quickly as he came to him. He sat down in his desk, and continued to read one of his books, The Secret Garden. He read about a chapter or two when the teacher waltzed into the room. The kids left standing returned to their seats. One of those kids was Alfred and guess where he sat? If you haven't figured it out already, I pity you. The younger blonde remained in his seat, listening to boring lectures about blah-blah-blah and who-really-cares. He was almost on the verge of falling asleep, when he heard a little sound, a sweet melody. He turned his head around immediately towards Arthur, who was just content with just sitting there, learning. His face took on one of complete calmness, and he released a song only Alfred could hear. The tiny little gears inside of his heart worked along with Arthur's without his knowing of it. He could feel himself being washed over with a feeling of fluffiness and complete relaxation. He didn't know why his friend was just so happy with learning, but the overall feeling of content was just so overwhelming, like he was on a cloud. Suddenly, the little melody changed, from a little music box, to the song that plays when they connect their hearts. A little guitar strummed as a singer's voice came on.

Summer has come and past
The innocent can never last
Wake Me Up When Septe-

Arthur snapped out of his daze and quickly pulled the plug on the song that was happening just between them.

"Why do you keep doing that, Artie?"

"What?"

"You end the song that we make together, it's super annoying." He crossed his arms over his chest just to exaggerate the annoyance.

"That's none of your business, you prat! Now, shut up before the teacher catches us!" Arthur hissed between clenched teeth. The melody has completely changed now from the soft melody to complete silence.

Alfred turned his head away from the Brit's. "You should really be more open with your feelings. With that attitude, you won't have any friends."

"I don't need friends, you wanker."

The American ignored the comment and proceeded to lay his head on top of his books. He eventually got drowsy and drifted into a dream.

. . ~.:.

There he lay, with only a sleeping Arthur by his side. He seemed so innocent, and everything felt so right. Dream Arthur slowly fluttered his eyes open.

"Alfred?"

"What up, Artie?"

He seemed choked up about something. Being the damsel in distress that he was, the hero, Alfred, just had to save him!

"What's the matter, Arthur?" he had concern for his friend in his eyes. Dream Arthur let out a sniffle.

"What if…you don't like me anymore, what will I do without you, my superman?"

"Don't worry, my little Lois Lane, I will always love you."

"Oh, Alfred!"

And with that, everything became all mushy and lovey-dovey, which signaled the end of Alfred's 'wonderful' dream.

. . . .GOD.:.

"…ker! Wake up you wanker!"

Alfred's head shot up instantly, which collided into the Brit's that was hanging above him.

"Bloody Hell, Alfred, what the hell did you do that for?"

"Way to go Artie, why did you have to go and wake me up? I was in the middle of an awesome dream!"

"I'm sure it was quite dandy, but class has ended! Do you want me to leave you behind?"

Alfred sighed, still rubbing his head. He gave out a small pout. "No…"

The Briton smirked, "That's what I thought. Now, hurry up; we're going to be late for World History." Arthur patted the American's arm, signaling for him to get up. With a screech of the chair scraping against the wooden floor, Alfred ran to catch up with the Brit.

"By the by," Arthur commented after walking out of the English room, "What were you dreaming about? If anyone else could hear your music box, they would complain that it was pretty loud."

This may be the time to explain music boxes. When someone's heart was feeling some sort of intense happiness, or positive feeling, a little melody goes off so that close friends and family could hear the same tinkling tune. The music box's sound is built completely off of that person's thoughts and overall lifestyle and personality. So, it would make sense that Alfred's music box heart would be upbeat and full of notes, and Arthur's would have a sort of soothing melody, like a mother calming a child. Anyway, continuing with the plot…

"What was I dreaming about? Well, becoming a hero, of course!" Alfred let out a nervous laugh.

"Of course you would be dreaming about that, stupid American." The Brit mumbled, folding his arms across his chest.

Alfred let out a sigh of annoyance as he entered the World History room. "Well, sorry that I can't have perfect dreams like you!"

Arthur just let out a puff of air and stalked away towards Eduard and Raivis. Alfred stacked his books atop his shiny wooden desk and looked out the window, deep in thought. He didn't notice when Kiku sneaked up on him and tapped his shoulder. The slightly younger man immediately ran stiff, but soon relaxed again when he realized that it was just his friend.

"Yo, Kiku, what's up, dude?"

"Eh…the sky?" The Japanese man smiled at his little joke. Alfred let out a little chuckle,

"Good one, ma' man!" he slapped the smaller man on the back so hard that a sound was audible. Kiku flinched and remained there for half a second before regaining his composure.

"Ah, well...I have this game for you just recently released in my country. Would you like to try it?"

"Sure, if it's a game about death and killing, I'll certainly win, because I'm American! HAHAHA!" he let out an obnoxious laugh, which caused Kiku to flinch once again.

"Um...okay, Alfred-san." Kiku hesitantly held out the game towards the jumpy American, who snatched the case out of his hands.

"Cool, thanks, Kiku!"

"Er…of course. I'll be seeing you, Alfred-san."

"Wait, Kiku!" Alfred got up from his seat and latched his hand onto Kiku's arm.

"Hm, what is it, Alfred-san?"

"I was wondering if maybe we could go to the park or something. We haven't caught up in a while, ya' know."

"Ah, that is true. I'll check my schedule and see if I'm free."

"'Kay, that's cool. Smell ya later, dude!"

"Um...yes. Goodbye, Alfred-san."

Arthur, who heard the entire conversation, rolled his eyes.

"Poor, Kiku. The poor lad will probably be sent to the hospital by the end of it." He mused, shaking his head. The bell rang, signaling the beginning of class. He sat down in his seat, right next to Mathias, and right in front of Ivan. Lucky him. The Beildeshmidt's grandfather stood up there, talking about Ecuador's first major battle against Spain and all of that jazz, but all that the young Brit was paying attention to now was the book that he snuck under his desk.

. .PLEASE.:.

Alfred was just content with staring at the people wandering on campus, not a care in the world on the fine spring day. As soon as he was going to turn to the teacher and pay attention out of sheer boredom, he heard the tune again, Arthur's tune. The tiny thread of music came into Alfred's ears and danced around in them. The little melody calmed Alfred once again, feeling like he was again grasping onto fluffy cotton-candy clouds. He turned his head towards the source of the music, and saw Arthur there, reading a book. He smiled at the completely calm aura that the Briton was radiating, opposed to that don't-look-at-me-or-I'll-turn-you-to-stone feeling he always seemed to give off. Once again, Alfred's and Arthur's hearts merged to create on sorrowful tune. The guitar started off again, and the man began to sing again,

Summer has come and past
The innocent can never last
Wake Me Up When September Ends

Like my father's come to pa-

Arthur, frustrated for the second time that day, canceled out the songs wonderful mix of guitars and voices. He shot a dirty look at the American, who sent an equally angry look.

"Professor Beilschmidt, I need to use the lavatory." Arthur announced to the teacher.

"So do I!" Alfred announced. The teacher sighed and looked back and forth towards both boys.

"Okay, but please, don't try anything." A few students, perverted ones, giggled at the comment. Arthur ignored the immature laughter and dusted off his uniform before heading off to the bathroom with Alfred close behind. Arthur slammed the classroom door in Alfred's face and continued to stalk off towards the men's room.

"Artie, wait up! Wait up, dude! Arthur, wait for me, godammit!"

Arthur continued to half jog, half walk towards the men's room.

"C'mon, dude! I need to talk to you…now!" Alfred tried to match the Brit's pace.

"Fuck off, idiot!" Arthur replied, moving even faster. He saw the men's room within view and made a break for it. Alfred broke into full speed to catch up with him. He reached out for Arthur's shoulder, and yanked him back. Arthur's footing gave way, due to the sudden jerk. He toppled backwards, into the American boy.

"Get off me, idiot! Let go!" Arthur kicked and flailed, trying to get Alfred off of him.

"No, I don't want to!" Alfred quickly wound his arms around Arthur's waist and sat down, pulling the Briton with him.

Arthur tried to turn around to meet the taller man's gaze, but was stuck in place. He wriggled and kicked and tried to bite Alfred's hand, but to no avail did he manage to remove himself from the younger man's iron grip.

"Stop being childish, Alfred! Let go of me this instant!" Arthur banged his fists against Alfred's, with the tiniest sliver of hope that it would work. It obviously did not. Alfred buried his face in Arthur's neck. He murmured,

"'M not the one bein' childish."

"Of course you're the one being childish! Now, release me, or I'll scream!"

"Don't you dare-" He was then interrupted.

"HELP ME, SOMEONE HE-"

Alfred clasped his hand over Arthur's mouth in a panic. This gave him the chance to bite down on the American's hand and finally free himself from Alfred's grasp.

"Ha, this is what you get, you prat!"

Alfred examined the slight marks on his hand. He glared at Arthur, who returned a look of victory and arrogance. The smaller man, fast as an Italian, fled from Alfred. Alfred darted after him, fire in his baby blue eyes. The Brit threw the door open and locked himself in one of the stalls. Irritated beyond belief, Alfred paused in front of Arthur's stall, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Am I really being the one who's childish, Art?"

"Y-yes, n-n-now go away! There's nothing for you in here!"

"I'm not leaving until you get out of there, Kirkland."

"Well, I'm not coming out, then!"

Alfred sighed loudly, making sure Arthur could hear.

"You don't even know what I want to talk about, you idiot."

"Sure I do, it's bloody fucking obvious!"

"Arthur."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Arthur."

"No."

"Arthur."

"Would you stop that?"

Alfred remained silent for a few moments before letting out another sigh. Taking no mind of the extremely filthy floor, Alfred got onto all fours and crawled underneath the door. Arthur immediately responded by trying to kick the burly American. He paid no mind as he picked himself off from the floor and stared at Arthur with striking blue eyes.

"And you continue to call me an idiot." Alfred said with no humor in his voice.

Arthur simply stared back at the American, panicking.

"N-now, old chap! This isn't like you! L-lighten up a bit won't you?" he chuckled nervously.

"I want to hear your music box, Arthur."

"Alfred, this is highly unnecessary-"

"What do I do to make your music box play? I want to know." Alfred said in a monotone voice.

"Really, Alfred, this isn't important. I need to get back to class, if you'll excuse me."

Arthur reached for the lock behind Alfred, but his wrist was caught by a larger hand.

"If you won't tell me how to set off your Music Box Heart, what about your Radio Heart? Why won't you connect our hearts together?"

"Alfred, I don't have time for this, really-"

"Arthur Kirkland, answer my question, now." The grip on Arthur's wrist tightened and the Brit winced with slight pain. Before he could answer, Alfred yanked Arthur's wrist forward and crushed his lips against the small man's. His acidic eyes widened with surprise and a glimmer of fear. The sandy blonde-haired man placed a hand on the back of Arthur's head, and the other wound around his waist. At first, Arthur tried to push away, he really did. Soon, he closed his eyes and snaked his arms around Alfred's shoulders. Not long after, a little tinkling melody emerged from Arthur's chest, and Alfred's lips molded into a small smile. As they parted for air, the Briton flushed a deep shade of scarlet. The song, the wonderful song, once more, sounded. Arthur gently smiled as he pressed his lips against Alfred's once more.

Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
Wake me up when September ends

Like my father's come to pass
Seven years has gone so fast
Wake me up when September ends

Here comes the rain again
Falling from the stars
Drenched in my pain again
Becoming who we are

As my memory rests
But never forgets what I lost
Wake me up when September ends

Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
Wake me up when September ends

Ring out the bells again
Like we did when spring began
Wake me up when September ends
Here comes the rain again
Falling from the stars
Drenched in my pain again
Becoming who we are

As my memory rests
But never forgets what I lost
Wake me up when September ends

Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
Wake me up when September ends

Like my father's come to pass
Twenty years has gone so fast
Wake me up when September ends

Wake me up when September ends
Wake me up when September ends