Summary: On a Sunday morning, the heads of both the Science and English department decided to sleep in. Established USUK fluff. Teachers/Domestic AU.
Warnings: Language, Grammar, and USUK Domesticity.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
Curtains Calling
Sunday morning.
For once, all seemed right in the world.
Early morning light was pouring from their opened window, its curtains only closed halfway in the bedroom occupants' want of the cool night breeze.
Arthur found himself draped over his long-time lover, head resting on a shirtless tanned chest. He breathed in and his senses caught the overlaying scent of sweat, musk, and something purely Alfred.
He's not as repulsed as he would've been years ago.
Living with and loving Alfred had softened him, he mused as he sat up and re-arranged the covers on both of them. They had both slept in their underwear the night before due to the sweltering heat, but Arthur couldn't really sleep without a blanket. That leaves the conclusion that Alfred must've kicked them away in their sleep. Again.
Arthur looked at his lovers peaceful face, lightly tracing his jaw. He'd always liked staring at Alfred. He just had one of those movie star look, or the boy next door quality, with his wheat-colored hair, sun-kissed skin, and invitingly parted lips.
At the moment, his lips shouldn't be all that inviting, thought Arthur. They were opened with a sliver of drool down the corner. He was even snoring! He really shouldn't find this cute, no, he shouldn't, but as he wiped the saliva away with his thumb, Arthur still found himself wanting to kiss Alfred awake, morning breath be damned.
Arthur was still sleepy, but he knew he can't just close his eyes and doze off again. A normal person can take a nap of one hour. And while Arthur tells himself that he'll only take an hour, he always wakes up three hours later. With or without a set alarm.
So instead he stretched his arms up above, heard his bones snap back in place, and contentedly registered the fact that he didn't wake up to a raging hangover.
As insignificant as that accomplishment may be, Arthur still gave his shoulder a congratulatory pat.
No, that already happened yesterday morning after the year's end staff party. He slept away most of yesterday in a banging headache, and it was bad enough to deter him from drinking away the rest of his weekend with the likes of Gilbert and Mathias.
Arthur refused to associate with those idiots in broad daylight at campus, but all bets are off once the clock strikes Happy Hour - where stupidity runs high and shame is nowhere to be found.
So if... certain incriminating pictures with those two ever get out, he will at least have a fighting chance to deny ever knowing them. That for instance, he can say no, he does not know that naked man gyrating his bits atop the bar whilst only covered by a flimsy waiter's apron, nor does he know the identity of that albino cheering said gyrating man on the background.
Video footages, though, has Arthur well and fucked with no alibi.
(So thank God Kiku was absent with his trusty video camera.)
Instead, last night, Arthur decided on an impromptu visit that was long overdue to his boyfriend's apartment. For the teachers of World Academy, the last three weeks of school are the most stressful time of the year, especially for department chairs like Arthur and Alfred. They had hardly seen hide nor hair from each other with how the amount of their paperwork made them question their career choices.
Those weeks were comprised of running to their respective classrooms and being holed up in their offices with enough stacks of paperwork to build a fortress. Save for brief waves across the hallway and sneakily exchanging kisses between meetings, Arthur had been deprived of Alfred, and his temper was in an all-time high.
Students tend to not start freaking out about their finals until the weekend before, while their teachers had been actively pestering them about it for weeks. These educators are plain masters at their subjects, and they are hard asses who have high expectations and demands from the student populus. Arthur is one of those brilliant teachers.
Think only the students lose their shit at Finals? Guess again.
Every year as those days loom closer, Mr. Kirkland – who teaches British Literature, AP English Language, and AP Composition and Literature – sheds his gentlemanly demeanor in exchange for a rampaging dragon. One who will cuss his students out in colorful yet confusing Shakespearean English and/or archaic Celtic dialects with no restraints. If anything, he'll claim he is doing his job by expanding their vocabulary. Lord knows he has a mini heart attack for every time he hears "L-AW-L."
So as per tradition, upperclassmen, who have taken his class from hell and survived with the traumatic experience, freely offer their condolences and wise words for his next batch of victims.
("Don't talk about his eyebrows. Whatever you fucking do, don't talk about them.")
God help the poor bastards who even try to ask for last-minute extra credits.
Thankfully, Arthur managed to get everything done just in time. Scantrons scanned, scores noted down, and grades exported in a timely fashion, purposely for the sake of finally spending time with Alfred.
Then all went to hell when he got dragged, unwillingly, to the staff party ("THANK GOD IT'S FRIDAY. THANK GOD IT'S OVER!") and everything became a blur, save for random flashes of white light. From a camera perhaps?
They were taking pictures? Arthur covered his face and groaned. He didn't even want to think about that right now. He should probably stay away from Facebook for awhile...
He squinted his eyes and looked at the opened window, sunlight streaming in halfway with its fluttering curtains flowing with the breeze.
It was turning out to be a wonderful day.
Arthur untangled himself from the sheets (and with more difficulty, Alfred's legs) and walked over to the window. He left it opened, appreciating the soft gusts of wind, but fixed the curtains so it was blocking the sun. The room darkened.
That's better.
With abandon, he flopped himself atop Alfred's chest once again and hooked one leg over his lover's waist, sighing contentedly.
"Art, what are you doing about?" murmured Alfred sleepily, eyes closed yet his body automatically turned towards Arthur and his arms moved to embrace him, legs tangling again in the process.
"Nothing, love. Go back to sleep." Arthur nuzzled Alfred's collarbone before he planted a chaste kiss on Alfred's lips. Morning breath be damned.
Alfred hummed in agreement and tucked Arthur's head underneath his chin.
Arthur told himself he was only going to take a nap.
Soon, the pair of lovers fell asleep, limbs intertwined and breathing in sync. Without a care in the world and enveloped within each other's arms. Hearts beating as one.
Yes. What a wonderful day it was to sleep in.
A/N: Hello! Thanks for reading! English is my second language so if you find any mistakes, please PM them to me so I can correctly edit this. Otherwise, review and tell me what you think! - seriously, even dropping a smiley will make my day.
Haruhasu