Title: Royal We
Author: Emmachu (emmabirdy)
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters: [America, England], [Feliciano, Ludwig]
Rating: K+
Warnings: Don't get a cavity from all the gay fluff.

The Teavana in the mall where Arthur worked was a small store, and typically not busy - there were a few regulars, like Feliciano, who was friendly (if a little energetic) and liked admiring teapots, and the perverted Frenchman who Arthur supposed only came to flirt with him and all the other customers, but lately they'd been seeing a lot more business than usual. Arthur had never liked working with others: he could be his own manager and besides, it wasn't like there wasn't a salesperson and big boss somewhere else to handle the details. But after a few weeks of being hard at work until 10PM, his boss called.

"Arthur, you need to hire someone," he implored.

"I'm just fine alone. It's not a big store."

"Yes, but it's been getting so much business - which is great, by the way, but we're all rather worried about you. Isn't it lonely all day?"

"Of course not. I talk to the customers sometimes." In fact, it was lonely, and he rarely talked to the customers because even the regulars were difficult to have a conversation with: Conversations with Feliciano quickly got old because he never shut up, and the pervert Francis was not the kind of person you'd want to have a conversation with anyway.

"Well, Arthur, I'm not going to force you to do anything, but please consider it." The boss hung up. Arthur was ready to forget about the whole conversation, but then he glanced at the crowded store and inwardly sighed. The "Help Wanted" sign was up by evening.

Arthur was looking through the backstock when the first (well, only) candidate showed up. He rang the bell, but when Arthur shouted, "Coming!" he only continued to ring the bell. Six more times.

Arthur dropped the box of red teas and stormed up to the desk. "What do you want?"

The boy had messy blond hair and a pair of glasses, and the most piercing blue eyes Arthur had ever seen. He was momentarily breathless - no, surprised, just at the unusual quality of his eye color.

"Hi!" he said. "Woah, you even came when the bell rang. That's pretty cool. Though I think you could totally, like, wire a sensor to the front door - ooh, or a tripwire! - that would tell ya when people came in!"

Arthur frowned. "Who are you?"

"Oh, right. Hi, I'm Alfred F. Jones, and I saw your sign outside and thought you should hire me!" That's not even how it works, Arthur thought irritably.

"Alright, well, come and sit back here and we'll talk." Arthur sighed and cleared a second stool off for the overeager boy. It was late enough in the day that there weren't many customers left circulating the mall, so Arthur closed up and returned to his perch behind the counter.

He grabbed a clipboard from under the desk. "Alright. How old are you?"

"I'm sixteen and seven eighths!" Alfred replied. You speak like you're five.

"I see. Have you worked anywhere else?"

"Nope! This' my first job!" IF I EVEN HIRE YOU, Arthur mentally corrected again.

"Um, fine. Why did you choose our establishment?"

"'Cause I needed to work somewhere, and you were the only people that were hiring." Alfred finished with a grin. "Who else works here?"

"Nobody," Arthur said, making a few notes. "Royal we."

Alfred's pretty eyes met Arthur's for a second. "I'm sorry. It must get boring!"

"I have plenty of work to keep me busy. Besides, there are always customers to talk to." Arthur was feeling it oddly difficult to meet Alfred's puppy dog eyes and played with the corner of his assessment. "A-anyway, you're all done. Let me just get your phone number and we'll call you once we've made a decision."

"Wow, getting my number so soon? We've only just met!" Alfred stuck his tongue out at Arthur. Arthur spluttered indignantly.

He would definitely be an interesting option.

Though Arthur left the sign up for another week after his meeting with Alfred, no one else interviewed for the job. He sighed. He'd have to hire the overeager guy. Arthur tried to convince himself that this was a terrible tragedy and he'd regret this decision later, but his brain kept bringing up the glances he'd stolen into Alfred's eyes and his determination was prone to waver when this happened.

Alfred began work the following Monday. He bounded into the store like an excited puppy, barely five minutes before it opened.

"You were supposed to be here an hour ago to be prepared for the day!" Arthur hissed. "I don't have much time to show you how things work. Come on, hurry and I'll get you an apron."

Alfred followed, still grinning. "So what am I going to do?"

"Drive me crazy is what you're going to do," Arthur muttered under his breath. "First, I'll show you how to do some inventory."

As Arthur explained how the register worked, opened the store, and helped Alfred take inventory, he learned many things about Alfred. He was a people person and was so much better at talking to customers then Arthur - he even managed to have a real conversation with Feliciano, both of their excess energy seeming to work together somehow. He dreamt of being an astronaut and his favorite food was hamburgers. When Arthur closed up shop, only twenty minutes after the mall's closing time, he had to admit he was very impressed with the new recruit.

"Whew, that was a pretty awesome day! I like that Feliciano guy. He's funny. But what's up with that Francis?" Alfred said, leaning on the counter across from Arthur, who was sweeping.

"The old frog is just an annoying pervert. Like all the French."

"Really? I think some of the French are kind of cool. Their baguettes are pretty good, anyway. Why do you hate them so much?"

"I'm British, so I obviously have to hate them. They're just….too French." Arthur rolled his eyes. Everyone knew that.

"You're from England? That's cool! Just not as cool as AMERICA!" Alfred laughed. "But, seriously, you have a cute accent."

Arthur's cheeks glowed. "Y-y-you're welcome to leave whenever you're ready." Get a hold of yourself. Just because he's cute doesn't mean you can turn into a blushing maiden every time he's in the room.

Alfred giggled - giggled - at him. "Okay, Artie! I'll see you tomorrow!"

"What? My name is Arthur, not Artie!"

"How about Art, then?" Alfred winked and left the store, leaving Arthur to call various profanities after him.

The nicknames didn't make him feel all warm and sappy inside. Not in the least. Really.

The next few weeks continued without any mishap. Alfred turned out to be a diligent, if not somewhat distractible, assistant. And it was very nice not to go home at an ungodly hour of the evening. Arthur continually reminded himself of these two facts to try to suppress the ridiculous notion that he might be - no, he wasn't having any feelings for Alfred, even if maybe he had never been completely straight and maybe Alfred did have really pretty eyes and maybe he was really sweet and helpful and - no. He couldn't fall for a co-worker; those affairs never worked out, no matter how much fun it would be and how much he thought about Alfred's lips…STOP.

Alfred opened the door at that moment and Arthur nearly dropped the teapot he had been handling.

"Hey, Art!" Alfred wrapped his surprisingly well-fitting apron around his waist.

"H-hello, Alfred. How are you today?" Arthur figured Alfred probably thought he had a speech impediment by this point. He'd also given up trying to correct Alfred on his name - it didn't do any good, and - well - it was kind of cute.

"I'm good. Hey, did you have any plans after work today? If you want to, we could like, go hang out or get dinner or something." Arthur's pulse started going five times as fast. Is he asking me out - no, he's not, we established that.

"Are you talking to yourself, dude? Who's we?"

"Er - sorry. Royal we. Um, I'd love to - I mean, that sounds entertaining, and I think my schedule happens to be free this particular evening…" God, he sounded like an idiot.

But Alfred just grinned and said, "Awesome! There's a special place I wanna show you."

The day passed so excruciatingly slowly to Arthur that at one point he needed to leave Alfred in charge to go and take a quick walk to calm his nerves. Feliciano ran into him again when Arthur was ready to head back in, this time with a burly blond hanging on his arm.

"Hi, Arthur, how are you doing? How's Alfred? Why are you out here, is anything wrong, you're very red in the face you know. Oh no! Are you sick? You should go home…"

"Feli, I'm sure he's alright," the man with Feliciano said in a deep rumble of a voice. "Uh, hello Arthur. I'm Ludwig." He extended his hand. Arthur shook it, perhaps a little quickly, and smiled nervously. So this must be Feliciano's German that he's always going on about.

"I've heard all about you and - uh, Alfred, was it? I hear you are very happy together." Ludwig said, Arthur's train of thought coming to an abrupt halt. He flailed his hands and stammered "n-no! It's actually nothing like that…"

Luckily, Ludwig looked quite uncomfortable too and apologized profusely, muttering something in German, before heading off with Feliciano to another corner of the mall. Arthur collected his thoughts and headed back into the store.

The day was over. Arthur had never swept so quickly in his life, stealing glances at Alfred who was still chatting with Feliciano. He wasn't nervous, not at all, he just wished he'd had some time to put on some fresh clothes after work and perhaps re-comb his hair and have a little scotch to calm himself. Oh well. He put the broom away and hurried off to the bathroom to brush tea powder off of his shirt and splash a bit of water on his face anyway.

When Arthur returned, Alfred had already locked up the store and was waiting outside. "Ready to go?" he asked with his typical flashy grin.

Arthur swallowed. "Yes, o-of course I am. Where is it that you're taking me, exactly?"

"It's a surprise, Artie! Duh." Alfred grabbed his hand and pulled him with surprising strength out to the parking lot, though Arthur's brain was a little stuck on oh my God he's holding my hand oh my God.

They got into Alfred's small car and Alfred immediately turned on the radio. "Oh, this is totally my jam!" he said to whatever pop song came on. And started singing along. He really was a terrible singer.

"TESTING, TESTING, I'M JUST SUGGEEEESTING, YOU AND I MIGHT NOT BE THE BEST-"

"ALFRED!" Arthur was doubled over with laughter by the end of the first line. "YOU ARE THE WORST AND LOUDEST SINGER I HAVE EVER HEARD."

"C'mon, Art, you have to sing with me!" Alfred said, turning the music up even louder.

"No, I really don't sing," Arthur said quickly.

"EVERYONE SINGS!" yelled Alfred, so loudly that Arthur threw his hands up to cover his ears. "Sorry. But it's fun! BEEN STUCK NOW, SOO LONG, JUST GOT THE START WRONG…"

"But I still want ya, want ya, don't mean to taunt ya," Arthur joined quietly. Alfred grinned at him as they rose into the chorus together.

When the song was over, Arthur was panting. "How on earth do you sing for that long so loudly? It's quite ridiculous." It was difficult to hide his smile, though.

Alfred shrugged. "I practice a lot. Oh, we're here!" Arthur glanced around.

It was a hill, quiet, and fairly plain. Alfred got out and smiled, a softer, gentler smile then his usual grin.

"What's this?" Arthur questioned.

"It's my favorite place in the whole world. Except for the store, 'cause I get to see you and that's fun."

Arthur glanced away from his face shyly. "I don't see what's so exceptional about it."

"That's because you're looking the wrong way." Alfred said. "Look up."

Arthur gasped. The sky was so clear, each star seemed perfectly defined against the blanket of the night. Alfred grabbed his hand again and started pulling him up the hill, but Arthur was left completely speechless and a little dizzy.

"There's Orion's Belt there. That's my favorite constellation. Oh, and look - the Little Dipper!" Alfred kept holding Arthur's hand and pointed out all of his favorite stars.

"They're beautiful." Arthur said quietly. He lay down in the grass. Alfred lay down next to him. He leaned over and smiled, the gentle smile, at Arthur again.

"I'm glad you like them too."

Arthur finally returned the smile.

Maybe there are worse things than having a little romance in my life. And as Alfred moved in to kiss him, he became fairly sure of this fact.

A/N:

Hello, Hetalians! Emmabirdy here again. Hope you liked this one-shot that came to me at some hour of the morning I wish I wasn't awake to witness, drinking tea and trying to stay conscious enough to finish my homework. (Happens to the best of us.) Oh, and teensy bit of GerIta in here is dedicated to the lovely Lia-chan (aka unshakespearean), of course!

Anyway, I think I'm going to stop typing half-asleep notes. Check out my profile for more USUK, woo!

Love, emmabirdy.