This story has been edited

Warnings: Light mention of drug use..

Well, I wanted to post this on Halloween, but, meh. Decided to post it now. There's no smut… although… maybe I'll do it later. Maybe.

I just really wanted to write something with England wearing a nurse outfit. ;3;


Arthur was having a magnificent evening until Francis invaded his apartment; trying to convince him to go to a Halloween themed party.

No. No. He wouldn't leave his house. There were monsters out there. Any reasonable wizard knew that Halloween was the day where the monsters walked the land freely.

He would stay home. Protected, safe. Watching the telly and talking with his fairies.

However, the frog didn't seem to care about any of that and was trying to get him to go the stupid party, and, even worse: dressed up.

Of course he rejected the idea as soon as he opened the door to the bloody Frenchman disguised as a ghost or some shit, but Francis wasn't deterred.

And... that was why he was now in the car with said Frenchman, face flushed red, his thighs pressed together as he squirmed. He didn't remember putting on the sodding dress and the rest of the outfit for that matter. He only remembered Francis making him drink something and then... then... he didn't know.

"Francis, you perverted freak. Did you fucking drug me, you sodding excuse of a wanker?!" Arthur screeched, he just wasn't strangulating the frog's neck because said frog had tied his wrists with a fucking stethoscope.

"Huh?" The Frenchman smiled innocently as if he had no idea of what Arthur was talking about, "Of course not, mon ami. I would never, ever, do that do you!" He purred seductively, a hand trailing from the Brit's knees to the hem of the dress and Arthur actually lunged to bite his arm. The Frenchman quickly recoiled and focused on the road, clicking his tongue in a disapproving manner.

"I can't fucking believe you!" The Brit growled, shaking his head and hitting the back of it on the seat, time and time again. He couldn't believe the frog actually drugged him and dressed him up in this embarrassing nurse outfit.

"Don't worry so much, Arthur, it's a party, it's Halloween, you have to dress up!" Francis laughed wholeheartedly to which Arthur groaned and rolled his eyes, having to avoid face-palming.

He wanted to kill the other so badly. It was unbelievable.

"Arthur, why are you so stressed? I put you in such a nice outfit." A wink was sent to the Brit and he almost gagged, "We're going to a party, you need to... what do these Americans say...?" A pause, "Ah! Take that stick out of your ass."

"Fuck you, Francis."

"Well, I hope I do get some fucking done tonight, so..."

"Jesus Christ, Francis!" Arthur choked breathless and made an unhuman noise because no words could describe how much he wanted to yell and scream and hit the other. His hands hitched to grab the other's hair and drag him through the cold hard ground and hit him a few thousand times.

The frog laughed. He dared to laugh! The fucking wanker! His body trembled with the want to just crash the car, he didn't even care that he was in it, if only the frog would keep his slimy hands to himself.

He bit his lip and tried to think of other things...

"Why a nurse?" He ended up asking, because, really? A nurse? Of all the outfits Francis must have, he had to pick a nurse. Of course...

"Why, you ask..." He hummed, amused, " I thought you would look good." He winked and was bloody saved from the Brit actually pushing against him to crash the bloody car because they arrived at the party.

Arthur looked out the car window, the house was covered in fake webs and there were a few pumpkins and skeletons around, candles and lights, the music could be heard even from inside the car and he scolded wanting to cross his arms. There were a few people outside, disguised of various things and talking animatedly with a drink in hand.

A drink. That was what he needed.

"Mademoiselle..." The Frenchman opened the door of the car smiling and making a mocking bow; Arthur rolled his eyes and stepped outside, face flushing red as his figure was exposed in the ridiculous clothes. He would have stayed in the car, but who knows what the frog might do!

Francis undid the bind on his wrists and the Brit massaged the skin which was sure to have some light marks in the morning. He counted to ten in his head and then glared at the Frenchman, "I don't want you in my eyesight for the rest of the bloody night or I will bloody kill you!"

That said he turned around and went into the house to get a drink, might as well have some fun, right?

The Brit ignored the stares he got as he walked through the mass of people, could this get any worse?

He didn't even want to know the full outfit Francis had put him on, his bottom felt rather weird and... breezy. He shuddered... The dress was too fucking short, he was showing too much leg and he absolutely couldn't bend down.

Bloody marvellous. Arthur frowned, downing a cup of whatever alcohol they had here.

"What's a cute nurse like you doing here?" A low and sensual voice whispered in his ear, Arthur froze feeling the warm presence of someone, a man, bigger than him, behind him, "Should a nurse be drinking at this hour? I don't think so..."

The voice purred sultry and Arthur trembled, the voice was somehow familiar but he couldn't put a finger on to who it belonged to. Warm, big hands fell on his waist, slowly descending to his hips, the man bit his earlobe, and, if anybody asked Arthur would downright deny that he shivered and his breath hitched.

"Hey, nurse, let's play a game." One of the hands descended to the hem of the dress, and his cup fell from his hands.

Arthur turned around; ready to give the scolding of his life to whomever it was that thought he would let have his way with him just like that, but as he turned around he froze, again.

Half-lidded blue eyes that widened to the size of plates as he noticed just who he was trying to get on with, the glasses fell a bit to the side and that stupid blond cowlick bounced on top of the American's head.

"Well, well, well..." The American's eyes narrowed and a sly smirk made its way onto his gorgeous face, damn him.

"Well what, Alfred?" Arthur's green eyes narrowed as well, he glanced at the clothes the other was wearing: an orange uniform, half of a handcuff hung from his right wrist... a prisoner. There was a number on the outfit too: 11201.

The American licked his lips and leaned closer to the Brit, "I never expected to see you here..." He looked the Brit up and down and Arthur squirmed uncomfortable under his gaze, "...in this kind of outfit..."

Arthur's face flushed and he sighed exasperated, crossing his arms over his chest and backing away from the other till he felt a wall behind him, although it was in vain because for every step he took back, Alfred took one forward.

"What do you want, Jones?" He asked curtly, looking away, wanting to be left alone. Arthur absolutely didn't want to talk to him when he was in this shameless clothing.

The American leaned forward, his forearms caging the Brit against the wall, the stupid sly smirk still tugging at his lips, the American's breath ghosted over his lips and Arthur gulped, too aware that the git was too bloody close!

"I want to play a game..."

Arthur snorted, trying to push the other away, but the other wasn't budging. Wasn't anyone seeing this shit happening?!

The Brit dry swallowed and his hands trembled, he was almost certain Alfred knew all too well he was getting a bit nervous, those damn calculating eyes and brain. The American looked like an idiot but he sure wasn't one!

The nurse coughed, trying to clear his throat and hope that his voice wouldn't break mid-sentence, "W-What kind of game...?" The Brit regretted the words (and stuttering) as soon as they left his mouth.

"We're going to play Haunted House..." The American kissed him lightly and he tensed, words stuck in his throat. He wanted to scream. This was ridiculous! He was freaking out over a tiny kiss and his heart was thundering in his chest like crazy!

He and Alfred were known to flirt a lot but never do anything at all in the end. That was how Arthur ended up falling for the American. Their endless flirting and "10" minute conversations they had every time they found each other. One second he hated the American and the next he couldn't stop thinking about him.

And now... here was Alfred, actually making moves on him. And he was letting him...

The American leaned forward a bit more, tracing kisses from the Brit's lips to his neck and then up to his ear...

"...It involves a lot of screaming and moaning, won't you have an appointment with me, Nurse?" The Brit bit his lower lip. Damn the brat to hell.

Arthur grabbed the other's head and pulled him down to a more durable kiss, "I think a check-up is due..."


Happy Halloween, I guess... :0