Originally posted in my hetalia tumblr (aph-nitroplush) but finally decided to post it here because my head hurts. No idea.
Each chapter has a different theme and can stand as its own fic. Literally a collection of oneshots mainly focusing on Arthur and Alfred's developing relationship. Timelines tend to jump from the beginning to the end.
Heavily inspired by Queer As Folk (the American ver).

If there was anything everyone would know about Arthur Kirkland was that he doesn't fuck anyone more than once. He may be the type to-as Gilbert had worded it, multiple times-"fuck anything that moves" but he have standards.

Then Alfred Jones appears, into the club, the bright neon lights shining upon him, making him glow like a beacon that Arthur couldn't help himself from being drawn to.

That night Alfred Jones came into the club was also the night he came into his life.

It wasn't even the kind that poets and writers say in stories, how they "come crashing into", no. He just casually walked in, a strange look in his face and strange light in his eyes, his posture calm and serene. In the back of Arthur's mind, he had thought that an angel descended from the heavens.

He didn't crash into the earth like most did because he chose to go down.

It was kind of hilarious; how a lot of things happened that night he had decided to take him home into his pent house to fuck. His lesbian friend went into labour that same night and as the surrogate father, he was obliged to come over.

And well, Emma was his friend and his friends told him so. He can fuck the kid later, they told him, and they wanted to see the baby!

At first he was annoyed, this could bore his partner and he might end up spending the rest of the night alone, probably doing some work instead of having a good fuck. His schedule for the following week is full with board meetings and paper work, he wouldn't have the time.

So he turned to Alfred, whose named he had learned not a few moments ago, as he had introduced himself after their hot make out session by the bar's entrance, his friends looking on with nothing but tired looks in their faces, so used to Arthur's shameless display of his sexuality. They were in the gayest area in Boston, no one will give a single fuck if they see two men going at it at the front of a gay bar, of all places.

Then he turned his eyes back to his friends, gesturing at the matter at hand-I want to get laid! It appeared that everyone understood the gesture, including Alfred beside him who was all happy smiles, his breath warm in the cool night air as he pants slightly, still short of breath. He seemed to excited, for some reason. He shakes his head, smiling at Arthur's friends as if he knows them despite seeing them for the first time and says, "I don't mind."

Arthur's smile doesn't quite reach his eyes as he chuckles and casually throws an arm around the boy's shoulders. "That's settled then!" He doesn't even care who said that when they all boarded Arthur's car and headed to the hospital.

After the commotion at the hospital, Alfred doesn't seem disturbed one bit about it all. To get to know a man he only went with to have a good night of sex so deeply in a matter of hours, but he did and he took it all in stride.

Back in the car, they couldn't seem to stop from touching each other, kissing and groping at every chance they've got, despite being flanked by Antonio and Francis on both sides in the back seat. When he hears them groan and say "can't you fucking wait" they just stare into each other's faces, red and gleeful and then laugh as their lips meet again to suck and lick.

Once he brings Alfred to his pent house, the magic seemed to have gone away. He stood awkwardly in the middle of his living room, looking at the extended kitchen, the king-sized bed and his bedroom on the farther end and his glass-walled shower, fidgeting.

"You've got a nice place," he mutters, his smile still on but not as bright as before. Nervous.

Arthur doesn't have time for that kind of thing though, so he pulls at Alfred's hood and drags him to bed. He held out for hours, and now that they're here, they should do what they came for.

They have sex.

After that first round of gentle sex, that is. Arthur finds out that Alfred's a virgin in the same breath that he's a minor. He's turning seventeen this July, he said, his expression set into one of those annoying faces teenagers make that says "I'm old enough, I know what I'm doing." Which translates in Arthur's mind into "I really don't", and it shows in Arthur's face as he stares him down and deadpans, "You're sixteen."

When he gets nothing as a reply but Alfred's eyes refusing contact, he sighs deeply and tries to stand up and mess with his hair. He considers kicking the brat out of his pent house, for making him spend the night alone after all. But then Alfred's hand darts out to grab his, "Wait!" He says.

"I wanted to make sure, so I went there." Ah, so he's one of those kids. Arthur wonders slightly to the time he was at the kid's age, making out with one of his teammates in the locker room. Luckily no one caught them, that is, until his "boyfriend" called him a faggot in the middle of practice and Francis had to jump to the rescue and beat the leaving daylights out of the guy. They both went home to Francis' mum all sore and bruised along with the news of Arthur being kicked out of the team.

Times sure have changed, huh.

Alfred's hold on his arm tightens, his eyes boring into his. "I want this."

"I want you."

Arthur finds himself sighing again before dropping back into Alfred's lap, Alfred falling back down, not expecting Arthur's compliance, probably. His face said he's prepared to be kicked out half-naked.

So after taking Alfred's virginity, they spent the rest of the night fucking until they actually passed out from all the orgasm they had. Then the next morning, he ended up fucking Alfred in the shower, pressing his body into the glass walls as he pound into him, Alfred moaning happily as he press his hips into his eagerly.

Somewhere in there, Arthur must have gone wrong.

"When will I see you again?" Alfred asks him, so hopeful and so in love. He said so himself, right in front of Arthur as he's about to get into his car and leave for work. The kid seemed to have remembered where he lived, to find him again a day later. His friends look on at the window in the back seat, curious to see how things will turn out. Having known Arthur for so long, they should've already known, really.

"In your dreams." He tells him, not feeling any ounce of guilt in his bones as he does so. He even smiles at his direction, in a way that Francis will remark later, as they eat by their favourite snack house, as cruel. With the way the boy's face crumbled, he crushed his little gay heart. Then as he pulls out in the parking area, he sticks his hand out to wiggle his fingers in the kid's direction, waving goodbye mockingly because he's just that cruel.

Well, it wasn't his fault, in the least.

Of all people, he just had to fall for Arthur Kirkland, doesn't he?