A/N: Hiyah, minna-san! *bow* Thanks to all of you who at least decided to drop by ^_^ This is my very first story here at . The very first fan fiction I've written in English ^^' hopefully it's not a pain for all of you with English as your mother tongue to read this. I'm trying to improve here~~ but...hopefully some of you'll like this :3

Summary: Everyone knows that Arthur Kirkland - that's England to you - hates Wednesdays. And strange visits from one American surely won't make those days any better...right?

:For all the heroes out there:

I hate Wednesdays

Arthur Kirkland, also known as the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland - more commonly known as England - was sitting in his living room, on his favorite spot near the roaring fireplace, a teacup in his delicate hands. His face was formed into a frown that was caused by the world meeting earlier that day. It had been completely pointless once again and had damped Arthur's already bad mood multiple times. He could hardly care less what that frog France had to say about love like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and his brain just couldn't comprehend where that stupid idiot America came up with his naive ideas of, for crying out loud, building giant superheroes to save the world!

Dear God, Arthur Kirkland hated Wednesdays. If he could change it, there would be no Wednesdays in England.

His spirit, which was already so low that anyone could feel his bad mood spreading from the living room to the rest of his house and right under the front door to outside, wasn't exactly jumping up with joy by the visit he was sure to have later that evening. Bloody America and his idiotic plans. Didn't he have anything else to do than come and destroy Arthur's peaceful evening?

When Alfred came to Arthur after the meeting to announce that he was going to come to visit him in the evening, Arthur had more than just protested, but America - being thickheaded as usual - hadn't even batted his eyes to the protests.

"Ha ha ha! See you then!" Was all he had said along the hearty laugh before leaving and giving no options to the Brit.

So there he was, sitting in his armchair, ready to surrender himself to the fate that his peaceful evening was to be disturbed by one loud and obnoxious American.

Sure enough - Arthur hadn't even managed to finish his tea - he could hear the front door being banged open, followed by a cheery - too cheery - voice, shouting his name.

Arthur took a deep calming breath to steady himself and muttered things like; 'couldn't even knock', 'didn't even try to learn manners' and 'Dear God and Queen, please help me through this'.

"Ha ha ha, there you are!" America, who had poked his head to the living room, walked, or more like ran next to Arthur with a big goofy grin on his face. "Wazzup?"

That almost did it. Couldn't the damned American read the atmosphere, or was he that much of a brick not to notice Arthurs bad mood?

Arthur took another calming breath and slowly placed the teacup on the table beside him.

"Please, do try to speak properly when you're with me. And maybe you have slipped to notice that today hasn't been exactly pleasant for me."

"Aww, man, you're so uptight", America grinned, his blue eyes shining. "And hey, that's exactly why I'm here! You're upset, and the hero is ready to save the day!"

This statement was followed by laugh that made Arthur want to punch America's teeth to the back of his thick skull. He had to restrain the idea of course, since he wasn't called as a gentleman for nothing.

"So what is it that you want?" Arthur asked, gritting his teeth while doing so.

"You have any coffee?" America asked almost immediately and ruffled Arthur's already quite messy, choppy hair before turning around to make his way towards kitchen.

Arthur, being slightly worried of having the American in his kitchen, jumped up almost immediately and followed the other with a frown still deep on his face.

"I hardly think so. If you want to come here, you be prepared to drink tea", was his gruff response.

"Tea?" America turned his head slightly to look at Arthur and made a face. "Ugh. No thanks, I'd rather have just plain water than that!"

Arthur pursed his lips and had to muster all his willpower not to say any snide comments back at America. He really didn't want to make his mood even worse by starting an argument with the other. An occurrence, which happened rather often. This was, of course, not Arthur's fault.

Alfred was the first one to enter the polished, shiny kitchen with his springy steps and he made a low whistle when seeing the room. "Wow man, I cannot fathom how this place looks so spotless when you're the one cooking here."

Arthur, who had just passed Alfred to take a look at the cabinet, where he stored his tea, could feel his eyebrow twitch slightly.

"And what, pray to tell, was that supposed to mean?"

America said nothing, but made a knowing humming sound, which irked Arthur. The American was walking on extremely thin ice, and he knew it. He knew, could possibly even hear Arthur's patience cracking.

"So in other words", Arthur started, seething with anger while pulling out a half empty coffee package, covered by a thin layer of dust, from the very back of his cabinet. "You come here just so you could mock me and make me even angrier. Well congratulations! You are about to succeed!"

Arthur placed the package roughly to the kitchen counter, making some coffee filing fly to all directions, and turned around to watch America with an expression that would have made the Italian brothers scared shitless and the Spaniard cry out 'Armada' over and over again. But as for America... he didn't even flinch, just continued to stare at Arthur with a small smirk on his face.

"So you do have coffee! Nice man!"

Arthur settled for cursing America under his breath and turned around again to prepare the coffee. He wasn't sure how much he should put coffee and how much water, but at the moment whether the American brat liked it or not, Arthur couldn't care less.

"So wazzup?" America asked after a silence.

"Oh, everything is just peachy now that I have you here", Arthur said, voice dripping with sarcasm as he put the hardly ever used coffee maker on. The machine was a gift from America and frankly Arthur had no idea why he still had it, even though he never used it.

When he then turned around, his eyes met the huge grin on Alfred's face.

"See, told yah!"

Was he really that stupid, or was he just fooling around?

"You know what sarcasm is, right?" Arthur sighed as he too sat beside the kitchen table, right across Alfred, who was slouching in his chair lazily. There was a stark contrast between the two of them seeing as how well-mannered way Arthur was sitting.

"'Course I do!" America grinned, which really made Arthur doubt if the other knew the meaning of the word. This boy was the same one who hadn't known what a cold was, for crying out loud.

"Anyways!" The American jumped up from his chair making Arthur look at him questionly. "I must be going!"

"Going..?" Arthur started, looking confused. "But... didn't you just - ?"

"See yah later, Arthur!" America raised his hand and waltzed out from the kitchen.

"But - you - the coffee - !" Arthur stood up and stumbled slightly.

"Bye, bye, Arthur!" America's loud voice came from the corridor. "And next time, add a little less water and more coffee!" Soon after the statement followed the sound of the front door opening and closing.

Arthur, who hadn't made a move from beside the kitchen table, could only stand there, confused, and think about what the hell had just happened.

-USUK-

Soon that Wednesday was over (much to Arthur's relief), and not long after was it already weekend, and before Arthur knew it; Wednesday again. It was doomed to be as crappy as the Wednesday before it, and Arthur wondered idly if Russia had placed a curse on it or something. That would explain the creepy grin the other nation had aimed at him during the last meeting.

If the world was going to end someday, the day would most likely be a Wednesday.

On that particular day in question there was no meeting taking place, however, the whole day felt like a crappy one for Arthur. Maybe it was because of his attitude towards the entire day. And just maybe the visit from his dear brother Scotland hadn't gone too well (one evidence being the throbbing spot on his head). However, one thing took its place yet again. At the exact same time, 16:55, America burst in with that loud voice of his, demanding for some attention and coffee. And yet again, after a mere fifteen minutes, he left, leaving the coffee Arthur had made especially for him, untouched.

"Really!" Arthur had huffed angrily while throwing the disgusting liquid away. "First he asks for coffee and then doesn't drink it!"

For some reason, Arthur was sure that this strange event was going to repeat itself next week, so when the next Wednesday came, Arthur prepared the coffee so that it was ready at 16:55. He didn't do it for nothing, since America came yet again, smiling because of the coffee waiting for him. Soon after drinking it, he left; leaving behind one confused and slightly put out Arthur, who didn't want to admit it to himself that he would have wanted America to stay a little longer.

His stays were maybe extremely short, oddly so, but he did come every single Wednesday at the very same time. It was odd to see the American so punctual, which he never was. He claimed for many times that he didn't have any ulterior motives for his strange visits, but as Wednesdays came and went and America was still showing up, Arthur found it hard to believe that the other wasn't scheming anything in that small brain of his.

Maybe he was just being paranoid, since nothing really happened. America came, had his coffee and left, making Arthur miss his presence for some reason unknown. And maybe it was this same reason that made Arthur actually look forward on seeing the American brat. A feeling he hadn't had since those times when America had still been his colony.

"So, what's yah doing now, old man?"

Such a lovely greeting, but what did Arthur exactly expect from the American?

"I'm finishing up one important document", Arthur sighed and turned his head slightly to see America leaning against his office doorway with a small grin on his face. "It's rather urgent, so if you'd please let me be."

"But what's up with the coffee then?" America asked cheerily and raised a green patterned coffee mug, where Arthur had indeed poured coffee before retiring upstairs to do work.

"What do you mean, 'what's up with it'?"

"If you didn't want me here, why to bother to make coffee?"

Arthur sighed and rubbed his temples. "I knew you'd come and wouldn't have left me alone even if I'd told you to. Now that you have your coffee, drink it and leave."

"But I wanna be with you as well!" America pouted and made his way next to Arthur, other hand in his pocket and a puppy look on his face. "I can always drink coffee alone at home!"

"America", Arthur sighed irritatedly and turned around to look through his papers, trying to avoid looking at others pleading face that worked surprisingly often. "I'm busy and I don't have time to sit down with you and have a drink."

"Only fifteen minutes, Iggy!"

"Don't call me by that name!"

"Englaaand", America whined and placed his hand on Arthur's shoulder while bending down to place his head near the Englishman's ear.

Arthur could feel his heart suddenly picking up a quicker beat as he could hear others breath near his ear. It made him shudder very so slightly.

"No, America. I said no and I mean it."

"But Arthurr..."

"No", Arthur banged other fist to the table, making pencils shake. He then turned around a little to look sternly at Americas face. "No, Alfred." He could feel a slight blush on his face.

A complete silence that lasted a few seconds followed his words. Of course America was the one to break it.

"You're so booring", America whined, but with a strange smirk on his face. "Well whatever. I'll see you next week!"

With that he drank all of his coffee and left Arthur staring blankly at the papers before him.

-USUK-

"This place is so... boring."

"Why do you insist on coming here every bloody week then?"

"'Cause you don't ever come to my place!"

Arthur, who had been reading The Times, lowered the newspaper slightly to see others pouting face.

"Since when has that started to bother you?"

The American went silent for once, only the pout remained on his handsome face.

And Arthur surely hadn't just thought others face to be handsome. He needed tea to straighten his thoughts up. So that's what he did; took more than a sip from his tea cup and resumed reading the latest news.

"I've asked you to come, yet you never do. Not even on my birthday."

Arthur stopped reading abruptly. His eyes clued on the picture of some famous American actor, yet he didn't see it. Why was America bringing this up?

"Everyone else comes! Even Russia! Yet, though you are the one I always ask first, always have something better to do! Once it was freaking embroidery! Is embroidery more important than me?"

Rain blocked Arthur's vision. The battlefield, the young rebellious child demanding for freedom... eagles flying in the sky. He had to make this stop.

"Your memory must have been affected by all that coffee", Arthur started, voice dull. "Otherwise you'd remember my visit on March."

If Arthur would have lowered his newspaper, he would have seen America crossing his arms.

"'Course you came, since there was a meeting in D.C! You never miss a meeting, no matter where you'd have to go!"

A silence fell and Arthur found himself thinking that he wouldn't have to last more than a few mere minutes and then America would leave. Leave him with the restless memories that threatened to consume him once again, even though it wasn't July the fourth yet.

"It's always business! If there was a business meeting on my birthday, would you come then?"

"Drop it", Arthur's statement was firm. He placed the newspaper neatly on the table and looked at America with stern eyes. "I'm not talking about this. If this is why you came, you might as well just leave."

But of course the American didn't. He just sat there with unusually serious look on his face, the trademark grin long forgotten. His blue eyes behind the thin framed classes held the same look they had had all those years ago. He hadn't changed at all.

"There's still two more minutes' time left", was all the American said with a slightly lighter voice. There was no trace of smile on his face, which betrayed his unconcerned attitude.

Arthur said nothing. There was really nothing for him to say. He wasn't going to ask for forgiveness for not being there with the American on his birthdays. Why would he want to celebrate the day that had brought him nothing but misery and pain?

Soon after a silence, America rose from his chair, making Arthur want to let out a breath of relief, which he decided to restrain until the other was gone.

America sauntered next to him with an unreadable look on his face.

"Shouldn't you be going?" Arthur asked, rising his head to look at others face.

Suddenly a hand was brought on his cheek with a gentle brush, which made Arthur's heart skip a beat, goosebumps run on his skin.

"Next July the fourth I expect you to be there as well."

And so the trademark smile was back on the others face. Just like that. And when the American left, Arthur could still feel the hand on his cheek, and the breath he had been holding, didn't come out as one of relief.

-USUK-

That touch hadn't been necessary.

Arthur was sitting on his favorite spot near the fireplace once again, listening to the music the raindrops and the cracking fire caused. He had just finished reading a letter from his precious Queen, but the content of the letter itself was far away from his mind.

Slowly he brought his hand up to rub his tingling cheek with a faraway look on his green eyes.

There had been no reason to why Alfred - America had touched him like that. For crying out loud it had only been a mere stroke on his cheek, yet...

Arthur let out another sigh. One in the many he had let out that evening.

Was he hoping that the touch had meant something...more? Of course not, Arthur didn't think of Alfred like that.

You liked it.

Arthur frowned. It had been long since the last time when someone had shown him any affection of this kind, if not counting France, and he hardly ever counted France. So wasn't it only natural for him to like... no. It was time for him to go to bed.

-USUK-

The next time Alfred came to visit him; it was almost as if he didn't even remember their previous argument. He was cheerful as ever; talked animatedly about some 'totally freaking amazing' video game Japan had given to him. The name of the game, despite how many times Alfred had said it, was forgotten by Arthur, who as well tried not to think about the Revolutionary war business.

He was a fool. The Revolutionary war was far from his mind that moment, the one more pressing matter, the one he thought about, re-created the tingling feeling back on his cheek. Just how stupid was that?

"Oh, man, Arthur! Sorry!"

Arthur had fallen to the ground. Bloody stupid American and his canoe feet.

Yet that idiot had decided to help him, as if Arthur couldn't manage to rise up by himself. Strong hands helped him up. Strong hands, which steadily started to grow some sort of affection in Arthur, thus making him worry.

Surely these touches didn't mean anything. It was a mere accident that their fingers had brushed against each other when Arthur had offered the green patterned coffee mug to Alfred. A mere accident when Alfred had dropped the flour from the shelf, right on top of Arthur, who hadn't been too angry not to notice how gently the American brushed the flour away.

And every time Alfred left, he'd ruffle Arthur's hair, or pat his shoulder, or do something silly with a playful attitude, like that time, when he had placed a kiss on Arthur's hand with a mocking: "I shall be back, my king."

"Stupid, stupid, stupid idiot!" Arthur muttered and cursed. His words might have not been directed towards Alfred at all.

He needed to get a grip of himself. He was Arthur Kirkland, calm and collected gentleman, not some pathetic schoolgirl with a teenage crush. And he did not feel that way towards Alfred! And he wasn't trying to please the other or anything with the biscuits he had decided to bake.

"Damn, you can't cook, but you make bloody good biscuits man!"

And that sentence absolutely hadn't encouraged Arthur to do more of those next week.

After a while the light touches came slowly to halt and Arthur noticed it quickly. He should have felt relieved, happy that he wouldn't have to go through the odd feelings any longer, but he was only left with a feeling of longing for affection. Feeling he had long forgotten.

Arthur was cleaning his kitchen because of the mess his baking had created and his mood was surprisingly calm, considering which day it was. The biscuits that were still in the oven created a sweet smell that made even Arthur's sweet tooth tingle. There was a scent of nostalgia in the air as his mind directed him to the memories from the past. To Christmas, when he had baked these biscuits for Alfred, who had loved them the most.

"Hiyah Iggy!"

The bowl Arthur had been placing on a shelf almost got dropped by the sudden loud voice of one American, who had charged in the room.

"You're making those chocolate biscuits, aren't you? I could smell them miles away! They're my favorites!"

"Bloody hell...", Arthur cursed, the feeling of nostalgia dying immediately. "Couldn't you be any more louder? And do not call me by that name!"

"Ooh, someone's got something in his ass today!"

"Do not talk to me like that", Arthur snarled, disliking how ill-mannered way Alfred spoke to him. "I don't want to hear you talking to me like that ever - !"

Arthur turned around with an annoyed look on his face to find Alfred looking at him, but not at his face, but somewhere below his navel, which made Arthur stop short and flush deep red as he thought where Alfred might have looked before he had turned around.

Arthur snapped his fingers angrily, which made Alfred slowly raise his eyes to his face. The trademark smile was back on his face in a flash.

"Yeah?"

Yeah? This - this boy was driving Arthur insane!

"Do not stare me like that, ever!"

"Man, you sure are giving me loads of 'not to do's' today. Why can't I?"

Alfred was making the puppy face again and tilted his head to one side, as if confused.

"Because it's unsettling!"

"Really?"

Arthur really shouldn't have told that. Others cheery voice was one to confirm it.

-USUK-

Arthur was becoming downright scared and anxious by Alfred's odd behavior. The touches had stopped, only to be replaced by continuous staring. Arthur couldn't help but fidget under the penetrating blue eyes that seemed to follow his every single move and map his body, which made Arthur wish that Alfred really didn't have any superman type of powers - x-ray eyes and whatnot.

Every time Alfred came to visit him, Arthur found himself much more self-conscious than before. Every single thing he did needed more thinking, more concentrating. His hands were almost clammy, as if he was afraid of blowing something up, making a mistake which wouldn't go past others eyes. So closely was he being watched. And Arthur didn't like it. Not a one bit.

"Stop it, already!" Arthur almost shouted at the American, when the others eyes were far too daring. He had had enough. The blue eyes followed him everywhere. They bored to his bone; Arthur could almost feel the path they tracked on his body.

"I'm not doing anything", came the cheery answer.

"You are staring!"

"Am not."

"Yes", Arthur groaned. "You are."

"Ha ha, you're getting paranoid, old man!" Alfred laughed loudly, but there was no way it would convince Arthur. Alfred wasn't exactly trying to hide his glances.

Arthur drew a calming breath and turned his back to Alfred, feeling irritated and embarrassed.

"I never noticed that you had a mole on your neck."

A blunt way to admit the staring, which made Arthur raise his other hand in a flash to hide the mole from others eyes. He looked over his shoulder to give Alfred a cold glare that was answered with a tenfold smile.

-USUK-

"I hate Wednesdays", Arthur grumbled to himself.

He was, once again, sitting beside his kitchen table with Alfred, a tea cup in his hands and a common 'Wednesday frown' on his face. For once the sun shined through the windows and no rain clouds were to be seen, which didn't manage to make Arthur's mood any better. His thoughts were messed up and he was tired because of the restless nights and disturbing dreams.

"No, you don't", came the unexpected answer from Alfred, who landed his coffee mug to the table.

This statement made Arthur freeze, tea cup slightly touching his lips.

"Oh? And what makes you think like that?"

"You like it, 'cause it's when I visit you", Alfred answered cheerfully and flashed his white teeth, which made Arthur frown deepen.

"And what makes that such a jolly good event? I certainly haven't asked you to come and disturb my peace."

"Nope, but you like it", Alfred stated with a permanent grin plastered on his face.

"How so?" Arthur asked defiantly, eyes narrowing slightly. He could suddenly feel something warm spreading through him alongside with cold jolts, which created a funny, nervous feeling.

"Well if you weren't waiting for me to come, why did you bake biscuits?" Alfred asked slyly, sparing one look at the baking's on the table. "And make the coffee so that I had time to drink it?"

Arthur could feel his face heating up in embarrassment.

"Can't I bake whenever I bloody feel like it?" He asked with a strong, almost defending voice. "And for your information, at first you always begged me to make you some coffee and then didn't even drink it!"

Why did he have to explain himself to Alfred?

"Oh, sure, sure, chill out, man!" Alfred laughed while rising up both of his hands. "Maan, you're so uptight! But damn, after all this it didn't cross my mind that you'd be this stubborn..."

"And what was that supposed to - ?"

Arthur's question was stopped short as Alfred stood up, sighing loudly.

"And here I thought to let you make the next move, but never mind. I'm more than willing."

Move.

"What on earth are you - ?"

Again Arthur's words were cut off, but not by others words or sighs, but by lips - on his own.

Arthur's eyes flew wide open and the cup of tea he had been holding would surely have fallen, if Alfred hadn't been clever enough to take hold of it before his surprising action.

Arthur couldn't do a thing but just sit there, stock still and stiff, taken all by surprise when Alfred's very slightly cracked lips brushed his own. He could only mildly feel the cup being moved to the table from his slackened hands before two strong, bigger hands than his own, cupped his face, forcing it to face more upwards.

Lips were moving against his own, hands caressed his cheeks, his ears, hair and neck, and Arthur didn't stop it. Couldn't stop it. Alfred had moved closer, seemingly pleased not to have been smacked on face or rejected.

Unknowingly Arthur had relaxed a bit, closed his eyes and started to enjoy the affection Alfred was showing and he knew that the American knew this as well, since he was becoming more daring.

No, no, no, no, this shouldn't be happening! His mind was screaming to him, while his body was clearly thinking the exact opposite. The warm feeling the kiss was dropping to his stomach was more than pleasant.

Arthur made an approving sound unconsciously from the back of his throat and when a tongue started to try and force itself past Arthur's closed lips, who was he to deny it's access?

Arthur opened his mouth only slightly, and that was all what was needed for Alfred to force his tongue inside of his mouth.

Arthur whimpered and took a hold of Alfred's jacket sides as the other processed to twirl his tongue all around Arthur's mouth, biting his lower lip and being quite forceful. The musky smell of coffee intoxicated Arthur as Alfred closed some more distance in between them and kissed him thoroughly.

While Arthur, whose mind was still screaming and cursing at him, was starting to get out of breath and had to open his mouth more to take quick intakes of breath, Alfred didn't seem to be affected at all. He let Arthur breath for a few seconds before taking his opportunity and attacked the opened mouth once again, entangling his other hand to Arthur's hair while the other still kept hold of his face.

No... stop it...

Alfred's tongue was doing something heavenly.

Stop, you idiot, stop...

It was deep in his mouth, making Arthur moan.

Stop.

And the warm feeling was surrounding him, curling his toes and fuzzing his brain.

STOP!

Something snapped and Arthur yanked himself forcefully away from others grip, falling from the chair to the floor in the progress.

When he then raised his head to look at Alfred's face, there was no expression of concern, but a gentle, almost devious smile. Alfred touched his lips with the tip of his tongue, which made Arthur speechless, if he already hadn't been.

"Wow, look at the time", Alfred hadn't even looked at his wrist clock. "See you again next week... Arthur."

And with that, he just left.

-USUK-

Arthur was tossing and turning on his bed, unable to fall asleep, mind restless and full of images of one Alfred F Jones.

It had been almost a week since...the kiss, and it was all Arthur had been able to think about over the past days.

The boy... was like his little brother. Arthur had raised him and he shouldn't be having any sort of romantic feelings towards the other. Yet the kiss had stirred up some monster inside of him. He couldn't anymore deny the growing feeling of affection, which had been there always, but which came now to him as clear as crystal.

Yet it was so wrong, too wrong in so many levels and Arthur knew nothing good would come out of it. He knew he shouldn't go through with it. Alfred didn't love him; he didn't know the meaning of the word. Most likely his foolish actions were driven by some sudden feeling of lust and then when he'd grow bored, Arthur was to be left alone once again.

The Revolutionary war over and over again, and Arthur wasn't ready to even give his heart any hope that Alfred actually loved him. With the every meaning the word itself possessed.

Arthur wouldn't give away his heart only for it to get crushed again. The time he had gone through after the Revolutionary war had been hard. Harder than he would have ever suspected, and he wasn't ready to feel something that sort again.

Yet the kiss had sparked a shimmer of hope. And though Arthur tried to crush it himself, he couldn't.

Arthur opened his tired eyes and looked at the ceiling above him and when he concentrated enough, he could feel the ghostly feeling of lips on his. Slightly cracked ones that tasted like coffee. For once the taste didn't make Arthur want to vomit.

Slowly his eyes darted from the ceiling to an alarm clock on his table. It was ten minutes past midnight and somewhere in the back of his brain Arthur registered that it was Wednesday again.

Shit.

A/N: Hopefully at least some of you liked this ^^' I was having hell of a time with commas. There must be loads of mistakes with those at least = 3 =' I need to do some serious studying…