ONESHOT

Alfred F Jones kneeled on the bedside of Arthur Kirkland who was sleeping peacefully despite what he had just been through. Alfred checked the bandages that were wrapped around the older nation's chest and lungs and sighed.

Arthur had had pneumonia the week before and had coughed non-stop throughout world meetings and his speeches. Alfred had taken notice and had taken it upon himself to get the Brit to a hospital where the doctors promptly decided to do surgery. Arthur had been out of it to begin with and his breathing had become labored so Alfred just stood by and watched as the doctors prepared him for the draining to his lungs.

Hours after the surgery Alfred took it upon himself to take the Brit home and make sure he was ok. Arthur had slept most of the way in the car due to the pain medication and he had snuggled himself into a little ball on the passenger seat. Alfred got him home safely and tucked him in bed, but he still waited until he awoke.

"Aww dude," Alfred sighed. "Please wake up it's been a day…"

Alfred moved Arthur's hair from his face and sighed once again. Arthur cuddled into Alfred's chest unknowingly as he opened his eyes. He was a bit loopy from the medicine still but Alfred estimated it would wear off soon.

"Who are you?" Arthur semi slurred in a state of dizziness and confusion.

"It's America," Alfred smiled. "Glad to see you're awake."

"You can't be America," Arthur said. "America would never take care of me…"

"It's me dude," Alfred took Arthur's hand and ran it on various parts of his face. "See, I got glasses, that hair piece that sticks up, the scar on my chin from the civil war…"

"America hates me," Arthur sighed. "He'd never take care of me…I sure could take care of him though."

Arthur smirked seductively.

"Oh you could now?" Alfred smirked and laughed.

"Yeah," Arthur sighed. "I wonder what he's doing now…probably eating a burger or undermining me in some way."

"America doesn't hate you England," Alfred said. "He…he really cares about you."

"Yes," Arthur rolled his eyes and replied sarcastically. "And I didn't take over a third of the world!"

"America doesn't hate you England," Alfred sighed. "He thinks you hate him though…"

"I don't hate him," Arthur said, still a little loopy but coming down off the high. "I love him so damn much…"

"America didn't know Britain was gay," Alfred said. "America's gay, but he doesn't want to tell anyone…"

"Oh please I'M bloody bi," Arthur said. "France is too, I think Russia just has dominance issues…"

"Yeah," Alfred chuckled. "America doesn't want to admit it but he thinks he's in love with someone too…"

"So tell me," Arthur asked. "Who is the object of America's affections?"

"He thinks the nations will make fun of him if he tells anyone." Alfred sighed.

"Since when did America care about what others thought about him," Arthur smirked, still in a haze. "He IS the hero after all?"

"Yeah," Alfred said. "I guess he is."

Arthur nodded and slowly drifted off. Alfred smiled and took the man's hand for a couple of minutes before standing to leave.

Hetalia – Hetalia – Hetalia – Hetalia – Hetalia – Hetalia

When Arthur awoke he felt groggy and overly tired. His body ached and his lungs were in twice as much pain. He looked around and held his head. Alfred then walked in with some new bandages and sat down on the edge of Arthur's bed.

"Hey England," Alfred smiled. "How yah feeling?"

"In pain," Arthur groaned. "And tired…"

"I'm gonna change the bandages now England," Alfred smiled and started to do just that. "Then we need to get you out that bed and get you some exercise."

"America," Arthur asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Taking care of you of course," Alfred smiled and finished up the bandaging of Arthur's stitches. "I couldn't think of anywhere else I'd wanna be right now."

"A burger joint." Arthur snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Anyways," Alfred helped Arthur sit up and then helped him to his feet. "Let's get you out of this bed and into the fresh air, we can take a walk…I found a path behind your house last night."

"Last night," Arthur asked. "But…how…?"

"Dude I've been here two days taking care of you," Alfred sighed. "But of course you wouldn't know because you've been so out of it."

"Did I do anything stupid?" Arthur groaned.

"No," Alfred laughed. "You just fell asleep."

Arthur stumbled when he got to his feet.

"Woah," Alfred held him steady. "Careful…"

Arthur grumbled, but secretly he liked Alfred holding him up and well…just holding him to begin with.

Hetalia – Hetalia – Hetalia – Hetalia – Hetalia – Hetalia

After Alfred had sat Arthur down on the couch he went off to get him a coat to put on his body before they went outside. He was left in disappointment when he saw how big and heavy Arthur's coats were.

"Hey England," Alfred said, walking back over to the older nation. "All your coats are too big and heavy, they'll break the stitches, I'm gonna let you wear my bomber jacket ok?"

He then smiled and draped the jacket over Arthur's body and put him on him.

"Er yes," Arthur blushed secretly. "Thank you…"

"Sure thing," Alfred said. "You're gonna need a scarf too."

Alfred threw the mentioned object at Arthur who promptly caught it and wrapped it around his neck. Alfred then grabbed one of Arthur's coats and put it on himself before he helped Arthur up and, interlocking arms; they walked out of the house together.

"I found the path last night when you were sleeping," Alfred explained with a smile. "I walked down it already so I know where it leads, it won't take us too long and we can easily turn around if your lungs start to hurt."

"Alright." Arthur said and took Alfred's arm for support.

Alfred led the way down the little path that had barely been covered in snow. The leaves on all the trees were black because they were dead and ready to fall. The sky was starting to darken and turn grey from the snow clouds above. Alfred maneuvered them around a tree that had fallen and safely across a small stream. The pair soon made it to a clearing where there was another fallen tree, a huge one at that, that Alfred sat them both down on.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Alfred asked with a smile, a fog was forming on his glasses and left his mouth when he spoke.

"Yes," Arthur smiled. "It is quite…beautiful."

"How are your lungs," Alfred asked. "They holding up alright?"

"Yes," Arthur said, suddenly though he broke into a small coughing fit. "They'll be ok for a little bit longer…"

"America," Arthur asked. "Are you sure there was nothing I did when I was out of it, I feel like I did something I'll regret…?"

"I told you England," Alfred gulped. "You only fell asleep."

"I mean when I got home." Arthur looked at him sternly.

"You," Alfred sighed. "You told me you were in love with me…"

"Oh," Arthur's confidence shot down fifty levels. "I did…?"

"Y-yeah," Alfred said. "You did…"

"I knew it," Arthur stood up shakily and started to walk away. "You must think I'm a bloody fool…!"

Alfred cocked his head and stood up from the log he had been sitting on, Arthur stood not facing him with his arms crossed and looking up at the snow that had started falling.

"England…" Alfred placed a hand on his shoulder and turned him around. "I don't think you're a fool…"

Arthur cocked his head too in surprise. Alfred then did something even more shocking in Arthur's opinion.

He kissed him…

Arthur's eyes went wide, but then he sort of melted into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Alfred's waist. Alfred held Arthur as close as he could and finally after about ten minutes he broke the kiss.

"Consider this," Alfred smirked and took Arthur's hand as the pair decided to start walking back home. "My confession…"

Read and Review

Yes, I was listening to Keane when I wrote this. So Yes, that song inspired the title.