I don't own Hetalia or the characters involved. Thank you for reading, leave a review if you want.

Fevers and Heroes

Arthur stumbled clumsily through the hallway in search of the bathroom.

Damn hotel, he thought miserably.

They had a meeting at the end of the week and all the countries coming had arrived at the hotel this morning, Arthur included. But after having breakfast in the hotels café, he wasn't feeling all that well. And so, instead of enjoying the hotel or the city sights like the others he was up in his room, emptying his stomach.

Finally finding the wretched bathroom, he knelt quickly to throw up. His stomach lurched once more. His knees hurt from kneeling on the bathroom titles, head in the toilet. And he was sure he had a fever.

The coldness of the titles was seeping into his knees and the sensation helped ground him as a wave of dizziness hit.

Later on, once he had successfully emptied his stomach of its contents, he heard a knock from his hotel door. He sighed, wiping his mouth before getting up to answer.

To his surprise he was greeted with the smiling face of Alfred.

"Sup' Iggy! Why are you hauled up in your room? You should come to the bar with me and Prussia! We all know how much of an absolutely hilarious drunk you are! So whaddya say?" Alfred asked, throwing him a hundred watt smile.

"No, Alfred. Now please leave."

Arthur sighed again, rubbing his temples. He really didn't even have the energy to tell Alfred off for calling him a drunkard.

He was tired. Tired and unwell.

Alfred's smile fell.

Alfred could tell something was up. Arthur looked extremely haggard, his eyes were half lidded and his face was flushed. He looked quite cute, with that constant blush, it made his bright green eyes stand out. Arthur was forcing his eyes open, constantly blinking; it was so goddamn cute. His wheat blonde hair was ruffled, making him look quite young.

It was taking him a while to connect the dots… flushed, heavy lidded and tired…

"Uh, dude, you feelin' alright?" Alfred asked Arthur. Reaching out a hand before the latter could react. Alfred felt his forehead. The Englishman was glad that the American couldn't see him blush through his already flushed face. Alfred finally realised Arthur was sick.

"Hmm, you have a fever, Iggy go to bed. Have you had medicine? Are you keeping yourself hydrated? Have you eaten yet? What meds have you taken? You should take a nap." Alfred rambled on, pulling Arthur into his own bedroom and forcing him into bed.

"Don't worry; I'll go get you something. Stay in bed and get some rest. Here I'll leave this bucket so you don't have to move. Should I get you some soup too? Yea probably. Okay. Stay here Iggy. I'll call you if something happens." Alfred basically talked to himself before leaving Arthur alone, shocked and kind of touched.

He's actually concerned about me, enough to get me medicine. Arthur would never admit it but he felt a little giddy. He blushed.

Damn him.

It was just Alfred's luck that the store he went to didn't have what he needed. So he had to go to several other stores. And during his medicine run a rather violent raincloud had unleashed itself upon the city.

The rain was cold and Alfred hadn't thought to dress for rain, so he was slowly making his way back to the hotel wet and freezing. Some icy droplets sneaked their way under his collar, releasing a shiver from him. He was sure that he could see his breath in front of him in cool, puffing clouds.

He smiled though, despite the polar rainfall. He was clutching a plastic bag to his chest. The content was precious to him. Inside was medicine and canned soup that Arthur needed.

And Alfred would deliver.

He was the hero after all.

Alfred was soaked through to his underwear by the time he burst into Arthur's hotel room.

He ran into his bedroom to check on him but before he could speak he closed his mouth. Arthur lay snuggled up in bed, peacefully sleeping. Pale lips parted, cheeks dusted bright pink, and his forehead was sweaty with his hair sticking to it.

Alfred smiled softly at him then retreated to the kitchen, putting the bag on the counter. Coming back with a small hand towel to dab on his forehead, he pushed Arthur hair back out of his face. Smiling down at him he slowly backed out of the room, making sure to be quiet as he shut the door.

Alfred then made his way to the kitchen and started on opening the can of soup. Before he quickly remembered that he would catch a cold too if he stayed in these clothes any longer. Arthur's soup would have to wait.

He wanted it to be warm for Arthur when he woke him up to give him his medicine. And it would be good for him to eat something, regardless if he kept it down or not. But he wouldn't be able to do much for Arthur if he was sick too.

Alfred sneaked into Arthur's room to see if the Englishman had unpacked yet, wishing to borrow some clothes. Lucky he didn't disturb said Englishmen and he quickly found his things unpacked in the hardwood closet. Alfred grabbed a sweater and pair of slacks, before retreating to find the bathroom.

He was starting to shiver a little, the idea of a warm shower sounded pretty good about now. So when he found the bathroom, which was kinda difficult, he stripped and stepped into the shower.

Basking in the humid spray as the warmth seeped into his skin. He admitted that he stayed in longer than necessary. And when he stepped out he seemed half as warm as before.

Sighing tiredly, he quickly got dressed before heading back to the kitchen.

A while later, Alfred was balancing a tray with soup and medicine on it in one hand and trying to open Arthur's room door with the other. He eventually settled on putting the tray down and opening the door first, fearful of dropping the tray with the soup on it.

Arthur was just as he left him; peacefully asleep. He felt bad about waking up Arthur from his slumber when Arthur looked so tired. Especially when Alfred couldn't remember the last time Arthur looked this peaceful.

But if he didn't wake him then he could get worse and Alfred didn't like the idea of it being his fault. So as much as he didn't want to he called out to Arthur.

Arthur stirred at little but otherwise… nothing.

He tried again.

Dammit Arthur. Why are you such a heavy sleeper?

He set down the tray by the bedside table, before leaning over Arthur and whispering into his ear.

"Hey Iggy, you wanna get up? I got some nice, warm soooouuuppp." He whispered to Arthur. Finally the Englishman stirred. Slowly opening his eyes and blinking rapidly. His eyes unfocused as he gazed up into Alfred face.

Alfred realised with a small jolt just how close that made their faces and just how aware he was of Arthur's body beneath him. Just how vulnerable he was right now. Arthur grumbled and groaned at him, before reaching up and tugging Alfred down into bed with him. Because of Alfred's shock at the unexpected action he didn't have time to react. They ended up in a strange version of cuddling with Arthur again back asleep and Alfred trapped.

He tried to escape but he was afraid of hurting Arthur and to still didn't really wanna wake him. And if he was being honest with himself he didn't mind this. Sleeping in the same bed, cuddling with him, being this close to him.

Alfred could feel the warmth of Arthur's breath against the nape of his neck. His body a scalding presence behind him, pushing up against him. He could feel the contours of his body. He felt Arthurs breathing, felt his heartbeat through the layers between them. Maybe it was his imagination but he was sure he could hear it beating, setting a calming pace for him to latch onto. He concentrated on that loud, almost deafening beat. It brought him comfort and unconsciously got closer to its source, eyes closed now. He felt arms wrap around him and was at such peace. He knew he was lying in bed with Arthur, and when he woke up he would give him a tongue lashing but he was warm and comfortable. The notion of a nap after a shower being too good to pass up.

Everything else felt far away. Like at that moment the only things that existed were him, Arthur and this rising warmth. It seeped slowly into him, filling him. And he gave into the feeling of weightlessness.

Arthur roused to the sight of bright blonde hair in front of him, the smell of his shampoo and an almost uncomfortable amount of heat that he and the other body generated. He still felt quite bad and couldn't pinpoint just how long he slept for. Only that Alfred had promised to bring him medicine and soup.

He frowned and turned his eyes to the body lying next to him as he pushed himself to sit up against the headboard.

Alfred.

The American lay slumbering next to him, breathing slowly, delicate eyelashes fluttering as he dreamt. He looked quite at peace in comparison to the Englishmen having a mini panic attack next to him.

What was the American doing in bed with him? Why were they cuddling? Did they do…anything? And where is my godamn soup? Arthur asked himself, trying to calm his erratic heart.

Arthur only got the answer to last question as he found a bowl of cold soup on his bedside table with some medicine. He gladly turned his attention to these objects and took a small dose of pills.

He then picked up the bowl before starting on devouring it, he didn't realise how hungry he was. Even though he was quite mad at Alfred he was still grateful for the soup and medicine. So he decided on letting him sleep a while longer, besides he looked quite cute like this.

Arthur could always yell at him later.

Alfred wasn't even sure when he fell asleep only that now he was slowly waking up to slurping sounds, still warm but cold from behind. His main heat source now gone, the bed was slowly getting colder.

He groaned, rubbing his eyes as he turned to see Arthur, sitting up in bed eating his soup. Alfred managed a smile.

"So you're finally awake?" the refreshed looking Englishmen asked. He rotated to lock eyes with Alfred. Arthur was finding it hard to be angry with Alfred right now, not just because of the happy look in his eyes. Or the way his eyes were crinkling as he smiled up at him. Or how his hair was ruffled and a little damp. Or the way his sweater rode up a little to reveal some sun kissed skin around his waist… wait wasn't that his sweater?

"Is that my sweater?" he asked, finding something to be mad about at last. Now hold onto that, he thought.

Alfred smile faltered a little as he rubbed the back of his neck, laughing a little. Arthur almost missed the tiny flush in his cheeks, almost.

"Uh… yeah, when I came in from getting you your goodies, I was soaked so I took a shower and borrowed some clothes. Hope ya don't mind." He smiled again, feeling a little embarrassed.

Arthur sighed.

"You." He corrected him.

Alfred's brow furrowed.

"What about me?" he asked, looking puzzled. Arthur sighed again.

"No I meant… never mind. Why are you in bed with me?" Arthur asked, not having the energy to explain it all to Alfred.

Alfred blushed again, this time darker. He looked away from Arthur. Focusing instead on the soft glow of lamp on the bedside table.

"I… uh, well you-" He tried, but failed. He was flustered; he tried to gather himself, managing to try again.

" I- I tried to wake you up to give you your soup, but you dragged me into bed then fell asleep so I was trapped. And I kinda… fell asleep too. So…sorry?" Alfred gushed out quite quickly.

Arthur blushed darker than scarlet, he too diverted his gaze. He cursed himself, so this was his fault?

He was thrown from his thoughts by a hand touching his forehead. He looked up, wide-eyed at Alfred, who looked concerned.

"Hey, you still feeling bad? You still seem to have a fever." He asked.

"Uh, well I feel better, but I'm still kinda hot…" Arthur trailed off. Alfred still looked quite worried, but his eyes brightened once again as he quickly had an idea. Arthur looked at him cautiously.

"I'll kiss it all better cause I'm the hero!" he smiled at Arthur, who looked too shocked to function.

"What!? No, no, no. I'm fine honestly." Arthur protested. But Alfred had his mind set now, and he was determined.

"Nah its fine, where do you think it hurts?" he asked.

"I don't hurt anywhere! I'm sick! This is stupid…" the flustered Englishmen replied.

"Okay, where are you the warmest?" Alfred tried again, still as determined as before. Arthur realised he wasn't going to win. With a sigh of defeat, he replied.

"Um… my chest I guess?"

Alfred smiled, before jumping up and grabbing Arthur. He pushed him down, forcing his hands up over his head, effectively trapping the Englishman underneath him. Arthur let out a cry of surprise at the American's actions, while the latter just laughed a little.

"What- what are you doing?" Arthur all but shouted, trying to break free. Alfred was still smiling; none of this seemed to faze him.

"I told ya, I'm gonna kiss it all better!" he stated. Before reaching down to shove Arthur's pyjama top up, causing him to gasp as the cold air hit him. Alfred then leaned down, faster than Arthur could figure out what was happening and planted a kiss on Arthur's right pectoral.

As soon as Alfred's lips met the untarnished skin of his chest Arthur froze. His startled eyes widened, breath caught in his throat and face redder than before. If that was possible.

Alfred dared to look up at him.

"Did it work?" he asked, voice husky, dropping an octave lower. He reached up to feel Arthur's forehead. Arthur was too flustered to reply.

"Judging by the colour of your face, think I need to try again."

And he leaned down to dot Arthur's upper chest in feather-like kisses. Closing his eyes, Alfred just felt the smooth expanse of Arthur's chest. Loving the way he involuntarily shivered as he continuously placed kisses into his skin. Licking away the goose bumps, causing Arthur to gasp. The Englishman's breath caught in his throat. He had never been this embarrassed or this flustered.

Alfred was basically worshipping his chest with kisses, before glancing up to lock eyes with him. He then took Arthur right nipple in his rapturous mouth, and started playing with it. Teasing and tasting the flesh, nibbling here and there. Never once breaking eye contact with Arthur, who couldn't possibly get any redder. The room was filled with the sounds of gasping, slurping and other proactive noises. These were the types of sounds lovers only heard, alone with themselves, devouring each other. Alone… in bed. Arthur's eyes widened as he realised what this sounded and looked like. He and Alfred…lovers?

Alfred sighed against Arthur's skin, reddened by his attention. He lay there for a moment, breathing against the other man's chest, experiencing the hum of his heartbeat. Arthur gasped, clutching at the headboard, his hands still held above his head. He gulped down oxygen, trying to ease the burning in his lungs. He caught his breath and tried to ground himself. The muscles of his arms starting to ache and the first pricks of pain rose along them, only making matters worse. But that was the lesser of two evils.

His erection was prominent through his trousers, proof that he was enjoying Alfred's attentiveness to him. And if said American saw, he would never let Arthur live it down. Arthur shuddered again as Alfred dragged his teeth across his nipple once more, getting even harder. The lack of friction almost painful and he was burning up again. Arthur gasped again; he seemingly couldn't get enough air into his grasping lungs. Alfred shifted a little to get a better angle of Arthur's chest. And although Arthur had been doing a fine job of keeping his moans to himself, he lost his inner battle when Alfred's thigh accidently rubbed his erection.

He groaned and shifted too, trying to find some solution, it was all becoming a bit too much, the intensity of it startling. How could kissing his chest be so erotic?

As Arthur released his held back moan from his throat Alfred stiffened, smirking against his skin. He then proceeded to continue with his task, licking his skin once more just to feel Arthur shudder. But slowly he was making his way up to Arthur's well defined collarbones, stopping only to nibble and toy with the flesh, extracting moans from Arthur. He blew against the tender flesh after teasingly biting it.

Arthur bit his lip, groaning and gasping for air.

Alfred chuckled against his neck, touching and tracing his lips along the region. Flicking his tongue along the area sparsely, his own breathing getting heavier. The tang of Arthur's skin was addicting, Alfred eagerly drank down his needy moans and gasps. He could feel his excitement as well as Arthur's and he was having a hard time not doing anything about it.

He glanced up to catch Arthur's eyes as he bit him lightly again, smirking. Arthur bit his abused lips again, the intoxicated look in Alfred's eyes and the way he smirked up at him was so hot. He was startled by a sudden pain.

"You bit your lip so hard it's bleeding…" Alfred whispered against the flesh of his neck, the soft words ghosting over his skin. It was strange to hear words after hearing such explicit sounds for god knows how long. Arthur gulped, poking his dry tongue out to lick the blood off. Alfred's gaze didn't waver, and the intensity was scalding.

"I'll kiss it better."

Alfred leaned up to catch Arthur's tongue with his own, eye contact still there. Arthur gasped, releasing a lewd noise as Alfred stroked his tongue with his own. Alfred's breathing was erratic as he pulled back, only to kiss Arthur. Alfred soon picked up his pace. His mouth consuming Arthur's in a searing kiss, both of their breathing heavy as they bit and nipped at each other. Alfred's hands somehow ended up in Arthur's wheat hair, pulling and tugging at him. Arthur relented by biting down quite hard on Alfred's lip, and he got a rumbling moan in response.

Alfred licked Arthur's bottom lip, tracing the cut lightly before sucking on it. Arthur whimpered at the sensation. Alfred pulled back to place a kiss lightly on the cut.

"Better?" he asked mischievously.

Arthur let out a shaky breath. His was hot, skin burning and his could feel the blush in his cheeks. Now that he could catch his breath and think clearly his consciousness caught up with him. He was unbelievably embarrassed by both of their actions, especially the way he keened like a woman when Alfred bit him.

"I'm still sick you idiot!"

Alfred sighed.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed.

If I get enough good feedback I may do a second chapter of what happens next...