Anything for You

Summary:

England and Hong Kong were supposed to see each other. What happens when England doesn't show? UK/HK.

Human names used. Hong Kong is Horace.

Rating: T

For my OTP :)

Enjoy!

He reread the text message for the tenth time in five minutes.

After so many times of meticulous examining, he was fully certain that the message read 'Meet me at 7:00 p.m. Front of the Excelsior Hotel.'

Then why on earth was he still standing at the front gate of the said hotel, without any company when it was already eight o'clock?

This made no damn sense. He thought.

Horace had been standing alone in the hotel lobby for an hour, impatience ticking away. At the same time, a sneaky feeling of unease had crept into his mind.

He was only here because of what happened earlier that day.

That afternoon, Horace was busy making arrangements for meetings, at the same time gathering all his focus on his laptop screen of many changing numbers with green and red arrows, and a big line graph in the middle, propped up for a click on his mouse should the ideal value he had in mind appear. Any moment now, he thought. He had always been up to date- and an expert, though he does not admit it out loud- with stock exchange in his place- something he is known for and is proud of. And today happened to be one of the days when he had several shares to deal with.

Click. Click. Click. Numbers. Enter. Click. Numbers. Click. Click.

Phew, that was close, He reckoned, relieved he had considered the best investment advisors' suggestions and performed a pretty in-depth research.

Now to check the gold prices.

Click. Click. Click. Numbers. Enter. Click.

-Beep- 1 new message-

Huh? Who would send messages to his personal mobile phone at this hour? He was sure to make everyone know that he would not be up for any, ANY, sort of random talk during this time of the day! He knew that might have been a little mean of him, but he had always been someone who put work first. He did especially set his home number to voice message, didn't he? So anyone who felt like calling him would speak to him. Sooner or later.

However, he was rather intrigued as to who would possibly be the mysterious sender. After a few more clicks, certain that everything was to his satisfaction, he turned away from the lifeless screen and snatched the thin black mobile. He flipped it open with a swift movement of his thumb and was surprised to find the message (for once) not sent by Yong-Soo or Wan-Wan, but from someone whose name had lingered in his mind for longer than he could remember, someone he had least expected to receive a text from at the time.

Arthur Kirkland.

'Horace, are you free tonight? Meet me at 7:00 p.m. Front of the Excelsior Hotel. Looking forward to see you. Arthur'

What is this? An urgent meeting? Hang on, there was no third party mentioned. So it was only he and Arthur. He did not have much on his mind pertaining recent issues so crucial that had to be discussed with the European nation face-to-face.

A surprise date, perhaps?

Whoa. Don't go that far, he silently lectured himself. He had been thinking about the blond so much ever since they parted. Yet had not made any attempt at all to contact him, if not for business. He was not too sure if he could handle a confession to the one who held such a special place in his heart, unspoken, for so many years. He would absolutely detest himself if the other's reply were a blunt 'no'. Just by imaging the scene, he could already feel how his heart would shatter into pieces. He'd rather keep all these thoughts at bay, and be happy with the current situation.

He checked his schedule for the rest of the day immedately and sent a few texts to postpone the meetings planned. They would be about trivial issues anyway. Any other day will do. He did not want to miss a chance to see Arthur. After making sure he got all those sorted out, he replied carefully to Arthur's text so he did not appear to be too eager yet still sounded delighted to accept the invitation. Arthur sent back a curt 'See you there!' a few minutes later.

Clearing up his working table, he quickly got into his room and ran the shower. With excitement tingling in his heart, he laid out the best suits he had and finally picking a violet tie Arthur had given him for his birthday to match the chosen one. The clock hanging on the wall read 5:30. He still had some time left. Just in case of an unexpected event of any sort, he even booked a taxi (when he had already told his chauffeur about his changed agenda).

As lukewarm water washed over every inch of his body, he found himself relaxing a little from the day's stress and began to wonder what would bring Arthur all the way to his sub-tropical island again.

He was quite amused as all sorts of possibilities surfaced from the depth of his mind.

What if…he wanted to hoist the Union Jack up here again?

Oh, no, no, no, no. NO. Brother would happily knock the living daylights out of him with a massive wok, drown him with tea- perhaps with his very own Earl Grey-and maybe even smother him with countless pandas and Shinatty-chans. Hence, no.

Then maybe…he wanted to carry out some sort of MI7 work that required my cooperation?

Well, that sounds plausible. If he did not want anyone to pry and eavesdrop, the safest way to contact Horace was to see him in person. Though he was not aware of any criminal acts lately that concerned the both of them.

So perhaps he wanted to investigate new investment opportunities and seeked my advice?

Oh, that could easily be done over online chat, email, web conferencing, or whatever sort of technology they could pull out. He didn't have to fly halfway across the world see him!

Then he probably wanted a holiday from all the work?

As much as Horace would like his place to be, he sadly admitted that it was not the best destination for a peaceful trip of relaxation. In the region, Yao and Kiku should offer better. As well as Thai, Wan-Wan, and Yong-Soo (though he seriously questioned the possibility of anyone wanting to add in trouble to their holiday spontaneously).

So he came the entire way…to see me?

Horace blushed immediately at the thought, and warm water was doing him no good as it ran across his flushed cheeks, making him feel even more flustered.

Damn. He could not be this embarrassed already. He didn't even see the man yet!

Getting himself dressed quickly, he looked at the clock as it read 6:17. Drying off and brushing his hair gently, he even remembered to use hair gel and put on cologne before stepping out of his bedroom. He couldn't help but smile a little at how worked up he got just because of a single text message. It was also a smile out of actual joy as he imagined how everything would go. They would talk like they used to, and perhaps have some wine together. Then maybe, just maybe, he would invite Arthur to stay over at his place instead of returning to his hotel room. Then he would wake up early for him and make him breakfast. He immediately located in his head where Arthur's own blend of tea was placed in the kitchen. It was something he never took away with him. And he did not seem to remember it. Though Horace kept it dearly, opening it only to make sure it was in good condition, never once using it. He had been waiting for him to come back so they could enjoy it together again. His mind had continued to be filled with nervous thoughts and plans for their time ahead as he proceeded down the stairs.

Man, I really need to calm down. He found himself fidgeting as he set himself in the car, finally about to see the man he thought so much about at a, perhaps, casual dinner.

He arrived at the meeting place at precisely seven o'clock, expecting to see a handsome blonde man, as groomed for the occasion as he was, maybe even more so, already there waiting for him. To his disappointment, he saw no one of expected appearance.

Well, maybe he was out somewhere and was just on his way there. Need not to worry, he told himself. Arthur had always taught him to be punctual, and surely he would practice such manners seeing as he was always the fine gentleman he was.

However, as half an hour passed, he began to worry about his safety. He couldn't have been in a car accident, could he? Maybe he just got stuck in one of those typical Hong Kong traffic congestions! Horace decided to send Arthur texts, asking him if he was on his way. No reply. So he sent him another, asking if he was okay. Still no response. He started to panic a little inside. But he used to live here! He knows the place as well as I do! What could go wrong?

Then a thought struck him as sudden and mind-blowing as a lightning flashing across the sky.

What if he had planned all this?

Maybe Arthur had already discovered his little secret of holding those feelings for him that he should not have. He was part of his adoptive family, after all. Since he didn't reciprocate the feelings, he needed a way to reject him. As an experienced nation in many ways, turning down an unwanted crush would certainly prove to be a fairly easy job. Hence the absence at a supposed date.

So this was it.

It had never occurred to him that he could be in a situation like this. He had endured so much and tried so hard to keep himself composed he did not think he deserved this. At all.

With the little hope he still had left in his heart, he remained waiting at the lobby as crowds came and went. He wanted desperately to prove his initial thoughts wrong. He needed to.

His watch read 8:oo.

His could feel a piece of his heart starting to crumble. He checked his mobile phone again for missed calls and messages. Nothing.

That's it. I'm going home. I don't freaking need this.

He tried his best to hold back the tears that brimmed his eyes on his way home. Even the chauffeur noticed a strange surge of gloom hanging over the Hong Konger, deliberately turning off the radio and allowed the journey to be accompanied by silence. After all, Horace was not a man of many words-only being talkative around the ones he truly loved and trusted-and had always braced himself with solitude.

The ride turned out to be faster than he thought it would be. Soon enough, he was in front of his house again, reaching in his pocket for the keys.

Arthur Kirkland. I'm never going to miss you again. I don't think I can handle any of this.

Horace stepped in the house after a heavy swing of the door, noticing a change of brightness from when he departed. The lights, he thought, I was pretty sure I turned them all off before I left. What is this? Even the lights decide to prank on me now?

Just when he was going to take off his shoes, his heard a loud clank coming from the direction of the kitchen. Oh for heaven's sake. Not a burglar. I don't need another dose of annoyance today. Thank you very much.

With a sigh, he approached the kitchen slowly, snatching a random object as a weapon and prepared to work Bruce Lee any minute now.

He saw the back of a brooding person and he seemed to be turning around to face him.

NOW!

-It all happened within split seconds-

"Yahhh!" with that signature shout, Horace kicked his left leg toward the unknown figure.

The other man raised his arms over his head in defense and let out a "No!" in a croaking noise.

Horace saw his leg almost banging onto the other's head and held it in mid-air as he saw the unmistakable eyebrows. And recognised his voice.

The man, as Horace quickly came to realize, was someone who stood him up not so long ago.

He put his hanging leg down and stared straight into Arthur's green eyes, demanding an explanation.

"H-Horace! I'm ever so glad to see you again! Sorry to have startled you, but-"

"Startled? You stood me up. You crept into my house. You probably broke something too, with all that noise," Horace said in an exasperated manner, making Arthur jump a little, "Bloody hell! What is all this?"

"L-let me explain," Arthur- who was gorgeously fitted in a deep purple shirt and a suit- said urgently with a wave of his hand, Horace seemed to be calmed down a bit at the notion, and nodded.

"I…sent you that message because I wanted to see you, today. And I thought I should bring with me something you'd like as a present. So I went all the way northwards and got myself some Wife Cakes*. I remembered you liked them."

"When I was coming to the hotel, I realised I must've left my phone back at the shop but it was already half-past six. I thought I might as well come straight to your house to meet you. I kept the keys." He eyed the set of keys set on the kitchen table. "But…I never got to see you."

"You left me standing there for an hour, you fool."

"I'm sorry, Horace. I really am," Arthur said as he reached out to stroke Horace on the cheek slightly. That was when he noticed a faint smell of iron.

"Arthur, you're bleeding!"

"Ah-it must be from picking up that broken plate."

Horace felt his heart twinge at the sight of Arthur's slight injury. He held up Arthur's hand with a frown. Then he cleaned up the wound for him in a delicate manner. The sudden warm touch of his fingers caused Arthur to blush a little. To his surprise, just as he finished putting a band-aid around the cut, he brought his hand up to his own cheek before giving it a gentle kiss. He felt bad for snapping at Arthur just now. "I'm sorry too, Arthur."

"You have nothing to apologise for," he pressed his lips softly against Horace's forehead, hot breath lingering on as he spoke, making the younger of the two colour up immensely, his heart beating insanely fast. Arthur's hand was still in Horace's, close to his cheek. His fingers stroking softly on his silken cheek only contributed more to the boy's racing heartbeat.

"Now, wanna try that Wife Cake?" Horace nodded, momentarily dazed by their touch, "I'll bring it over to the coffee table."

Horace paced to the couch and seated himself in a comfortable posture. As a uniquely fragranced aroma of tea filled the silent air, he turned around with a thin smile and saw Arthur, still dressed formally in his suit, proceeded towards him with a tray of two cups of tea and a plate of Wife Cakes.

'The tea...' Horace blinked at the dark brown liquid in the elaborately designed china, recognising its special smell.

'I'm surprised you didn't throw it away, lad,' Arthur grinned as he laid the tray on the coffee table and sat next to Horace on the sofa.

What makes you think that I would throw away something that's yours, of all people? Horace felt the floodgate of trepidation being torn open in his chest by that small comment, finding it unbearable that the island nation had expected so little from him. Tears began to swell up in his eyes. Even though he felt tremendously silly to cry over something so trivial.

He mumbled, 'Arthur, I would never...' finding it hard to continue with a lump in his throat, he swallowed hard and simply looked up at the said man with hurt in his eyes.

Oh dear. That was when Arthur noticed he had said the wrong thing. I really shouldn't have said that, he thought, not even as a joke like that. Who knows how long and preciously the innocent boy had been holding onto something- the only thing- I've left at his place? Not to mention I left it unknowingly. His heart clenched.

Realising his careless mistake, Arthur turned to face Horace, placing both his hands on his cheeks. His thumbs gently wiped away the strands of tears under each eye, which had fallen defiantly, much to Horace's embarrassment. More tears found their way out of his wide watery eyes as he blinked some more. Horace felt ashamed yet his heart continued to flip at the amorous touch of Arthur's fingers patiently drying his tears.

He opened his mouth, wanting to apologise for the sudden embarrassing behaviour, but Arthur moved in closer, whispering quietly, 'Shhh...'. Their lips were a mere centimetre apart as Arthur leaned in and pressed a hot, tender kiss on Horace's already parted lips. His eyes grew wide at the unexpected kiss, breathlessness taking over. Slowly allowing himself to be entranced by the sheer delight it brought about, he shut his eyes closed, arms tentatively clambering up to wrap around the Briton's neck, pulling the two of them even closer. He found himself enjoying this greatly, his cheeks flushing so much thanks to the rushing blood. Arthur smirked inwardly at the boy's reaction, gently nibbling at his lower lip, causing Horace to let out a faint gasp following by a soft moan.

It feels so good...This proves Arthur's feelings, doesn't it?

He certainly wanted this - he just had no idea that his feelings were reciprocated, unbeknownst to him. Their kiss grew deeper and fonder by the second, both too occupied to relieve themselves from the sudden shortage of oxygen. Arthur's fingers traced the boy's facial contours, hands sliding into the slightly-styled hair, the smell of hair gel still apparent. Even still, his dark brown hair was awfully soft, and Arthur couldn't help but kept messing it up as he lost himself deeper in the velvet touch.

When they finally, unwillingly let go of each other for air, Arthur found the tips of Horace's lips curling upwards, forming an extremely shy yet satisfied smile. He felt the warm heart-tugging feeling once again, like when he first met the Asian, who was so small, so adorable, and his rare smiles always pulled at his heartstrings.

"You should smile more often, you know? You have a cute smile."

Arthur leaned in closer once again, hands cupping Horace's reddened cheeks and stole another kiss from those smiling lips. After the brief touch on the lips, he lavished his cheeks, forehead, and eyelids with more kisses, arms moved down to hold the sides of his waist tightly. As if he attempting to make the younger man blush even more, he whispered into his ear, warm, humid air hanging around, "I love you."

Horace felt his heart melt at once. He placed his arms on the older man's shoulders with a slight grip. Arthur smiled and looked right into his dark brown eyes lovingly, their mouths barely apart. "I love you too." Their lips touch inevitably due to their closeness as Horace voiced the confession he'd always longed to make, and this time, he tilted his chin up a little to plant a chaste kiss on Arthur's lips. Then another shy smile.

That had simply triggered all the love and affection they held for each other so long within their hearts, as passion crumbled in on them, making them refuse to leave each other's fond embrace ever again.

The bright sunlight shining on Arthur's face made him warm, and he shifted his head, along with his arms a little, wanting to continue his slumber away from the intruding light. As he did so, he sniffled the refreshing smell of mint and lemon shampoo and body wash, coming from right before him. He saw a head of messy, semi-long dark hair in front of him, fringe so long it covered the boy's eyes. A smiled spread across his face as he found Horace was, in fact, snuggling up to him, looking as peaceful as a baby in his embrace. He nuzzled the the top of the younger man's head with his chin, marvelling at how silky his hair was- he should tell him to never use hair gel again.

He pulled Horace- who was in only boxers and his dark stripy purple shirt-even closer, placing his head slightly below the crook of his neck, as he felt a surge of protectiveness and possessiveness running over him. He planted many dainty kisses adoringly on the lad's smooth hair and forehead. His fingers encircled Horace's pink cheek tenderly, feeling the soft skin beneath.

"Let's do that again sometime...?" He grinned mischievously and said in a hushed voice.

They had both succumbed to the irresistible pleasure as they lavished each other with love and tenderness just mere hours ago. All but pure bliss and desire had been forgotten. Nonetheless, Arthur blamed himself a little for his lack of self-control and straightforwardness for saying that after the pain the brunette had willingly undergone for him. He was sure to make it up to him though. He pressed another fond kiss on his forehead as he remembered their night.

Despite trying not to wake Horace up, he saw the boy's eyelids slowly fluttering open; sleepiness still had him in its grip. He raised his head slowly; reluctantly drawing from the warmth Arthur had provided him with. One hand began to stroke Arthur's arm lovingly, the other had been held tightly well before they fell asleep. Horace smiled another of his innocent smiles- ones that never failed to make Arthur's heart do a joyful little dance-before kissing the blonde's cheek shyly, looking into his green orbs to find his own reflection. He purred lethargically.

"Anything for you."

Lips met, gently and wonderfully as though in touch for the very first time.

Horace had wondered why Arthur had decided to visit him on that particular day. Then he glanced at the digital calendar on his desk.

29th August. *

Oh...

He smiled knowingly.

* Wife Cakes- (Or Sweetheart cakes) Traditional desserts made with winter melon, Chinese pastry and sesame. One of the most famous bakeries is located in the north of Hong Kong, which is quite far off the Excelsior hotel at which Arthur and Horace were supposed to meet.

* 29th August- When the Treaty of Nanking was signed in 1842, ceding Hong Kong Island to Britain.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia!

A/N: Thank you so very much for reading this! My first (and failed) attempt at shounen-ai fluff...Sorry for the cheesy-ness, and the OOC-ness! I sincerely hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know what I can improve on and what you think about it! Reviews are highly appreciated.

Much love!