chapter one
It was a bright and sunny day in D.C., in the middle of the hot Summer. Cars traveled past on the streets,. Couples, families, and lone people strolled on the sidewalks. Once a small child tossed a Frisbee back and forth with his father. A small puppy wandered around a bit before a woman gently picked it up and carried it away. Yes, everyone was enjoying the nice weather, taking the advantage to get some fresh air.
All except for Alfred, who was buried in paperwork.
It was a day to be celebrated in America, and one that the personification usually enjoyed himself, but there was work to be done. The fourth of July. Of course, his nation duties came before his own happiness and he ended up having to stay at his desk all day working on some papers and junk he didn't really care about.
Yawning, the blond took off a piece of paper from his forehead and glanced at the clock on his desk. 6:49 P.M. Blinking, he slowly lowered his head to the paper-filled desk and closed his eyes. All he wanted was a little sleep. Couldn't hurt.
The loud ringing of the telephone woke him from his uncomfortable sleep. Standing, he marched to the device and snatched it off the holder, spitting a venomous "what?" into the talker.
"Alfred?" With that one accented word, his sleep-fogged brain was snapped clear and alert. Why was Arthur calling him? Wasn't he supposed to be drunk off his ass at this time? He never talked to him on this day. Ever. Was the guy finally getting himself together? Or did he just not care anymore?
He felt a small pang in his chest and decided to push those thoughts away and yawned, remembering he still needed to respond to the other.
"Iggy? What are you doin', callin' me at...ah, I'dunno," the blond shrugged, too lazy to do the math from their time zones and look at the clock. It was dark, so it was probably early morning the next day in England, which should be when he's passed out at some bar or suffering a hangover.
"One, don't call me Iggy. My name is Arthur," the Brit snapped, "Two, did you finish the damn paperwork? We have a meeting tomorrow."
Blinking, Alfred eyed his desk, eyes scanning over the various papers covering the surface with a bored look. How much work did he still need to do? Probably a lot, but he didn't really want to think about it at the moment. He'd much rather be in bed, anyway. Why couldn't Arthur do some of this stuff?
"Um...I'dunno," he shrugged.
"'I'dunno'? Good Christ, Alfred, talk like a normal person!"
The American rolled his eyes and mocked the British man's voice with a hand gesture and a face.
"…And don't mock me!"
Alfred's eyes widened a bit and he dropped his hands, expression the one of a child caught in the act of doing something they shouldn't have been doing. He quickly recovered and relaxed, walking into the kitchen pointlessly, just needing something to do.
"So, was there any real reason you called me at this hour of...once again, I don't care..?" he asked, yawning and rubbing his face. He suddenly felt tired again and he was starting to feel cranky.
"Yes, you twit! The damn papers! We need those tomorrow, you bloody moron!" the Brit huffed impatiently on the other end.
"That isn't nice, considering that I have an average intelligence, the papers are almost done, and all of my blood is inside of me, thank you." He said with a smartass smirk.
Alfred heard the other man scoff on the other end. "That's not what I-"
"You know, it's not nice to insult people all the time, Iggy." He said with a pout that looked almost childish on such a grown man.
"Don't call me that, and I really just wanted to-"
"And why can't I call you that?" he asked.
"Because I said so, now let me-"
"That's not an answer~" he sang. He was not going to let Arthur use the same parent reason 'because I said so'. He got enough of that shit as a kid.
"It is if I say it is, now let me finish tal-"
"That's stupid. 'It is if I say it is'? You aren't the boss of worldly logic, ya know. And it's pretty childish for someone two thousand years old."
"Alfred, let me say what I-"
"I mean, really, you shouldn't say things like that." He said, leaning against the counter and feeling a little powerful at his upper hand, plus he got to interrupt Arthur for once rather than the other way around, although when he was interrupted, he'd ignore it and keep talking anyway.
"Alfred, will you let me finish talki-"
"I guess, since you-"
"LET ME FINISH, GODAMMIT!" the Brit yelled, finally silencing the American.
There was no noise, silence crackling on both ends of the line. It stayed silent, until the American broke it briefly with a quiet, "I'll be back.."
Alfred leaned against the counter, shock still lacing his bloodstream. The Brit usually was irate toward him, but this threw the American off. It kind of...hurt. For some reason, it hurt.
g
Suddenly realizing his moment of weakness, he walked back into his dreadful study and pressed the phone back to his ear. "Hello..?" he called softly.
"Hi." Arthur said quickly in an awkward tone he always used when he knew something said was probably a bad decision.
Alfred heard the sound of glass shattering and a curse echo from the other end, "Fuck. Alfred, listen, I have to go. Tink is being an ass..." he said, muffled shuffling following.
Alfred sighed and his brow creased. He seriously worried for the guy. He acted like his little fairies were real and it was kind of weird, although it was nice to see he wasn't always act like there was an icy stick up his ass and smile whenever he 'saw his fairy friends'.
Alfred just nodded before remembering the other man couldn't see him. "Yeah, I have paperwork to do. I have to finish the contract for Russia..." he said, shuddering. Removing the talker from his ear, he mumbled to himself and sat back down at his desk to resume with his work.
But he hung up too quickly. Alfred didn't hear the real reason the Brit wanted to talk to him.
"I love you.." he whispered.
