Hi, this is Soup here! :D I got distracted, and wrote a ficlet, lol. Have some USUK! This is the first time I write any of them, unless you count Artie's brief appearance in Luxembourg, so please go easy on me~

An Atrocious Attempt at Alfred and Arthur

"Haha! I can't see anything!"

Arthur looked up from his book. Alfred's glasses were completely white with vapour from the steaming coffee (if you could actually call it that, Arthur suspected that coffee was a minor component in the beverage). Arthur rolled his eyes and carefully lifted his own paper mug, filled with (real) black tea. The liquid warmed him from within. Almost too much. He could feel his nose starting to run.

"Artie, can't we go inside?" The fog had evaporated from Alfred's glasses, and the teen was shivering ever so slightly, clasping his sugar-shock-masquerading-as-coffee with both his gloveless hands. "It's freezing, and I'm sure there are warmer and comfortabler places to read than a stone bench in a frosty park."

"More comfortable, git. If you're not going to use the Queen's English, at least speak your own properly." Arthur did not look up from his book, calmly finishing his tea. "There are several thousands of warmer and more comfortable places, I just thought that this one, at least, should be quiet." The green eyes left the pages with neatly arrayed letters and (for the most part) correct grammar just long enough to send a pointed look in Alfred's direction. "But it seems I was wrong."

The way he said it made it sound almost like a question. It was the calm!Arthur way to say 'STFUFO'. Though, technically they were outside already. Alfred would have used his most adorable kicked-puppy-face to convince Arthur to follow him inside, but that only worked when the persuadee was looking, and Arthur was deliberately not-looking.

Restless and with no apparent way to persuade his friend to leave the cold weather to itself, Arthur started to juggle his half-empty mug back and forth between his hands.

"Arthur, your nose is running."

No reaction.

"Arthur, you'll be sick."

The Briton simply turned the page and continued reading.

The speed at which the coffee mug was changing hands had doubled, and suddenly Alfred was struck with a brilliant idea. He chucked the coffee at Arthur's pants (he took care to avoid the book; Alfred might be stupid sometimes, but by no means was he suicidal).

Arthur yelped and jumped up as if he had burned himself (which he probably had).

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Alfred couldn't help but find the enraged British accent adorable.

"I swear to God, Artie, it wasn't on purpose!" Except it was.

"Now I'll have to walk all the way to my dorm with your bloody poison-drink all over my trousers!"

Alfred grinned.

"My dorm is just around the corner."

Arthur glared at him underneath those thick eyebrows of his (which were also strangely endearing).

"No."

"Why not, Artie? That stain really looks ridiculous."

Arthur looked down at his trousers, fuming. It did look ridiculous, at best.

"Fine!" he snapped, "But only for the time it takes to wash my trousers!"

Alfred's grin grew wider.

"Of course!"