It was a normal, boringly chaotic world meeting.

England and France were at each others throats once again, France having said something offensive to the English culture, as usual. The two men- children, really- were on the floor, bumps and bruises covering them. The marks would be gone within a day or so, so there wasn't really any need to worry about the minor wounds they continued to cause each other.

Yelling curses and pulling hair, the two had been brawling it out for close to five minutes. Most of the nations tended to just tune them out, turning away to retreat into their own conversations.

Germany was beginning to lose her temper. Well, she had begun to lose her temper a good minute after they started, but since then it had increased.

This was outrageous.

The two were such… such children! The German rubbed her pounding temples, trying so hard not to yell. She focused her attention on the story her rambunctious Italian friend was telling her.


Good god France was irritating. He constantly insulted the Brit, and he'd had just about enough of it!

Charging him had seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

England threw a particularly hard punch at the Frenchman's gut, who narrowly dodged it.

"Angleterre, what was with that weak punch? I know you can hit better than that!" Francis taunted the Brit. The punch, in reality, probably would have hurt him quite badly and maybe bruised his stomach, but it was just so fun to piss the little Brit off!

"Shut the bloody fuck up you frog! I could kill you if I wanted to!" Arthur was furious. How dare Francis insult his fighting!

There was an annoyingly loud laugh let out by everyone's favorite American as he moved closer to the brawling pair. England grimaced, earning himself a yank to the hair.

"Ow! Damn you, you shite!" He howled, flipping back around to his offender. "Francis, I'm going to bloody kill you!"

"Just you try!" The Frenchmen grinned.

Arthur charged.


Alfred hefted his struggling boyfriend into his strong arms, lifting him from off the Frenchman beneath him.

"Alfred! Let me go, you prat!" He struggled, kicking and screaming.

So ungentlemanly.

America laughed his loud, aggravating laugh, ignoring the red-faced Brit in his grip.

"Babe, you need to calm down." He grinned, setting Arthur on his feet. He shuffled around in his pocket for a minute, his other arm wrapped around the English nation's waist, who huffed and crossed his arms.

"Bloody idiots, all of you." He grumbled, looking away with a scowl.

"Here, babe." Alfred held his newly found prize to his boyfriend. "Have a Snickers. You're not you when you're hungry."

Silence. Complete and utter silence.

Arthur stared at the candy, his arms going limp, his head slowly rising to meet Alfred's eyes.

"Excuse me?" Everyone held their breath at England's quiet voice.

Alfred smiled goofily down at Arthur, oblivious of what was to come.


Alfred's eye would probably be purple for at least a week, but the bloody idiot deserved it! Making a fool out of England! The great British Empire! A former pirate!

The poor fool never learned, did he?

He knew better than to do such thing. He knew Arthur didn't like to be embarrassed!

What an… What an asshole!

But he was Arthur's asshole, and, he supposed, he could live with that.