AN: Heh heh, a oneshot that I found in my files. This is in case War-torn Platform doesn't get updated in a few days :D It's slightly crack-y. Well it did come to fruition after some weird conversations with a friend (and it's sort of a head canon, only swap freedom for like... hamburgers. ALSO, NOTE - THEY'RE MARRIED :3 because I don't state it until later XD
DISCLAIMER: Woe is I, Hetalia is not mine~
It was late - very late. After one of Francis' all nighters, Alfred was once again carrying a very intoxicated Arthur up to bed. The small Brit had clung to his back as Alfred trekked up the front lawn, mumbling incoherently when he stopped to kick off his shoes. Now, he had successfully made it to the top of the stairs, Englishman intact and pried open their bedroom door.
He flicked the light with one hand, while the other unhooked Arthur's arms from his neck. Chuckling silently to himself, he gently laid the man out on the bed. He was a mess; mud on his shirt (Gilbert had started a game of tag outside... it got pretty scary), mud on his face and his tie had seemingly vanished into thin air.
Arthur rolled a little on the bed, finding a comfortable position and Alfred sighed. It was kind of cute in a way. Turing to the dresser, he began unbuttoning his shirt. He took his time fishing out a clean pair of boxers and swapping his party attire for something a little more comfortable. He spun back to his husband, intending to clean him up too; only to find him sitting bolt upright, staring at him.
"C'mon Arthur get changed - you need sleep," he said, sitting on the side of the bed and pulling at Arthur's shirt. The Brit's somewhat hazy eyes shone, and his hand snaked up to lock on Alfred's wrist. The American raised a brow as Arthur... purred?
"Mmm, you're going to undress me now, are you? Ohh~" Arthur leant forward, one hand crawling up Alfred's own bare chest. He frowned. "No fair, you're already nude!" Alfred couldn't help a small laugh at the puzzled look on Arthur's face as he unbuttoned the shirt. "How'd you do that? You were clothed a second ago!"
"Come on Iggy, lay down," he said, giving him a gentle shove. He complied, flopping back into the mattress quietly as Alfred unbuttoned his trousers, wriggling the smaller man out of them. He was considering changing the rest of his clothes too, when Arthur let out a high pitched giggle. There was a tug on the waistband of his pants and Alfred came flying down on top of the Brit.
"Hello Alfiiie!" he said, grinning as he pulled the American's face closer to his. Alfred would have protested had Arthur not then planted a kiss on his lips, pulling him further up the bed. Slightly bewildered, he looked over at his husband whose eyes were starting to droop. Nevertheless, the Brit still rolled over, scooting across his chest and locking him into another kiss. He made a small humming noise as he pulled back, running his hands through Alfred's hair.
"Mmm... tastes like... freedom..." came the small murmur, before Arthur completely collapsed into the bed, out cold.