Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, all rights belong to Hidekazu Himaruya .
Enjoy!
An Unfurtunate Fortune
A sweet tune filled the air as twenty-three year old teacher Arthur Kirkland walked up his driveway, key and shopping bags in hand, humming a little tune. He unlocked his door, carefully sliding the key out and closing it behind him. He raced into the kitchen and placed the orange bags onto the counter top. He stretched and cracked his neck, muttering to himself about exam stress and ignorant students.
He'd been teaching for several months and loved every minute of it… well, every minute except those that contained stress and anxiety. Three sixteen year old girls had cried on his shoulder in the past week, consumed by stress that their exams and social lives were putting them under. He was so glad not to be in their shoes.
Just as he began to put his items away, something struck Arthur as odd; his cat, Montague (or Monty as his friends called him for short), had yet to greet him with usual mellow purring and reluctant cuddling. Arthur put down the milk which he had picked up and walked into the adjoined living/dining room.
"Monty?" He called. Damn him for taking his friends' easy route and using his cat's nickname; they influenced him too easily… "Montague? Here kitty, kitty, kitty," Arthur began making kissy sounds and rubbing his fingers on his left hand encouragingly. He stood up straight when the cat refused to come out from any of his hiding spots in the sofa.
He left the living area and walked upstairs, ignoring the bathroom because he knew that Montague wouldn't have the nerve to enter the room (caused by an unfortunate incident caused when the cat ran into the room at full speed and ended up falling into a bath that Arthur was running). His next bet was Arthur's study/guest bedroom; he got onto his knees and peeked under the bed. "Montague? Come out, come out wherever you are…"
There was no cat underneath the bed so Arthur decided to enter the only room that the cat could hide in – his own bedroom. Montague liked to sleep snuggled up to Arthur as the man read a book; Arthur's arms or his chest seemed to be Montague's favourite sleeping spot. He walked into his bedroom, looking around and underneath all the furniture, calling the cat's name. The cat responded this time, but it was muffled.
"Montague!" Arthur called, not looking up. The cat responded again, this time sounding panicked, so Arthur looked up, knowing that Montague was quite afraid of heights. What he saw was definitely not what he expected at all. He gasped in horror and raced to his bedroom window as his cat clung to the branch of the tree outside his bedroom. Montague looked up to Arthur with a terrified look in his green eyes. "Montague! You poor dear! Don't worry, I'm coming!" Arthur said to the cat. The cat didn't respond and dug his claws deeper into the branch.
Arthur opened his door, leaving it open as he ran to the tree in his front garden. Montague was on a branch facing the house, a very high branch… Arthur bit his lip and looked at the trunk; it was kind of skinny and Arthur wasn't that good at climbing. His next solution (to climbing) was to grab the ladder in his garage but then he remembered that he'd lent his ladder to his neighbour, Elizabeta.
All out of options, Arthur didn't have anything left to do. He could stand under the tree and promise the cat he would catch him… but that wouldn't work. Montague was terrified of heights and not even his owner's reassuring voice would coax him down from the tree. Arthur ran his hand through his messy blonde hair. This was just more trauma added to an already hectic day.
"Hey! You okay there?" A voice called from outside Arthur's gate. The blonde looked around the tree to see the worried tanned face of a young man.
Stressed, Arthur replied. "Do I look okay to you, boy?"
The man looked taken aback by the response, as he should've – Arthur knew he had no right to be so snappy to a stranger trying to be kind. "Well, no… is something wrong? Is your cat stuck in the tree?"
Arthur nodded. "He's terrified of heights and he won't come down…"
"Do you have a ladder?"
"No, I've lent it to someone, unfortunately."
"Damn…" the man cursed. "No worries! I think my brother has one. He lives down the street. I'll be a sec!" The man ran off in the direction he pointed.
"It's not like I asked for your help…" Arthur muttered, not happy with having to be helped in a situation in which he could handle himself… if he had the correct equipment. "I'll just accept the ladder and then ask him to leave. I'll return it to his brother later… yes, that will work."
"Talkin' to yourself, huh?" The man had returned and Arthur spun around in astonishment. "S'okay, I do it all the time!"
Arthur frowned. "Are you going to help my poor cat or just stand there making small talk and jibber jabber?"
"Oh right! The cat! Sorry!" The man blushed and ran towards the tree. He held the ladder against the trunk and looked up. He then turned back to Arthur. "Can you hold this for me while I go up, please?"
Arthur nodded, swallowing as he watched the stranger climb up the ladder and lean forward to Montague.
"Here kitty… come here, good boy…" The man cooed before looking back down to Arthur. "What's his name?"
"Monty!" Arthur shouted, cursing himself for reverting to his nickname.
"Monty… that's cool, I guess," The guy said, wrinkling his nose lightly at the name.
How dare he judge the name of my pet! Arthur growled internally.
"Monty… come 'ere… c'mon… that's a good boy," the man praised Montague as the cat cautiously leapt into his arms, "good kitty."
He climbed down the ladder carefully and handed the cat back over. Arthur, relieved to have his beloved in his arms again, almost cried and he cuddled with Montague. The man just looked on awkwardly, hoping to strike up a conversation.
"Thank you very much," Arthur said graciously. The man scratched the back of his head.
"Nah, it was nothin'. I got a cat myself, I know what kinda trouble they get into. The difference is, mine's a big, fat furball…"
"What's your cat called?" Arthur asked, inwardly berating himself for continuing the conversation. It wasn't until now that Arthur noticed that the man had a distinct American accent, although he couldn't pinpoint which part of America his accent came from.
"Hero… I called him Hero…"
After another Shakespeare character, how… enthralling.
"After Hero from Much Ado About Nothing?"
"Wha?" The man seemed confused about the name. "What's that? A movie?"
Arthur grit his teeth in annoyance. "No, it's a William Shakespeare play…" he felt the urge to add "you ignorant twat" at the end but ignored it.
"Oh! … never heard of it. Nah, I called him Hero because he reminds me of me… and I'm quite a hero myself…"
"Oh really…" Arthur's interest in the conversation had taken a straight downfall.
"Yeah, I'm a cop, y'see. I like to catch the bad guys and be a hero. Protectin' citizens like yourself from danger."
"How noble and arrogant of you," Arthur said.
"Thanks!" The guy smiled, oblivious to the insult. "The name's Alfred F. Jones. Don't ask about the F, 'cause I ain't tellin'."
"Arthur Kirkland, pleasure to meet you. Now if you don't mind, I have a lot of work to do…" Arthur made to walk into his still wide-open door.
"Oh… that's cool, I guess…" Alfred said, sounding crestfallen.
"It was nice to meet you Alfred Jones, but I'm sure we won't meet again…"
"Oh… right… 'course," Alfred muttered, looking at his feet now. "Unless you wanna go to dinner some time?"
Arthur turned around, a surprised look etched on his face. "Are you asking me out? On a date?"
"Yeah… uh… if you want… that is…"
Arthur was flattered. Alfred looked like a nice guy despite the arrogant air he gave off with his hero attitude, plus he was sweet enough to rescue the cat of a complete stranger and… Arthur had to admit, he was very attractive – from his honey blonde hair to his heavenly blue eyes. He was divine, almost godlike.
Arthur hadn't dated anyone since university… and relationships had never crossed his mind…
"I would be delighted." The words found their way out of Arthur's lips (without permission from his brain). Alfred's smile brightened and Arthur's chest tightened.
"Great! I'll pick ya up at about 7 then… is tomorrow okay?"
Tomorrow was a Saturday and if Arthur got all the work marked by tonight, he would be very free…
"Tomorrow sounds lovely."
Alfred nodded his goodbye and Arthur closed his door, sinking down and hitting the floor. He took a deep breath before laughing breathily. He had a date. With an attractive American… it was almost too good to be true.
"Someone pinch me," he said aloud in disbelief. Montague took it a step further and raised his paw, claws sharp and ready, and swiped the man's arm – ripping his shirt and drawing blood. "YOW! Okay, I get it Montague, I'm not dreaming!"
On the other side of the door, Alfred walked down the driveway, and left the gate, he made it five steps away from Arthur's house before fist pumping the air and dancing a little jig on the street. He heard a cough behind him and looked up to see Arthur's amused neighbours staring at him.
"Oh… erm… sorry!" Alfred apologised and sped off to his brother's house to give him the good news.
Arthur straightened his tie for what seemed to be the fifteenth time. He was nervous. Very nervous. He couldn't recall being this nervous in a long time… he wasn't even nervous during his first job interview.
Montague was lying sleepily on Arthur's bed, lazily flicking his fluffy tail. Arthur abandoned his tie and went for the sleeves of his suit, smoothing them and making sure the buttons were aligned correctly. What was the time again? Arthur checked his bedside clock and noticed it was ten to 7. Ten more minutes… Ten… minutes…
Arthur took a deep breath… what on Earth was he so nervous for? It wasn't as if this was going to go anywhere, he only accepted because he was grateful for Alfred saving his cat. That's it… right?
A high pitch jingle broke the uncomfortable silence of Arthur's home and Arthur began to panic. Oh shit, he was here… already.
He looked in the mirror one more time before nodding and then stroked Montague goodbye; the cat just meowed in response, refusing to leave his spot. Arthur grabbed his mac coat and keys on the way out, and when he swung the door open he was greeted by a handsomely-dressed Alfred.
"Evening sir," he greeted, sweeping Arthur from his feet. He could be a gentleman too? Damn, he was making this too hard to be a one-time thing.
"Good evening, Alfred," Arthur returned the greeting, trying not to make it obvious that he was slowly losing his mentality.
Alfred was in a sharp suit jacket. Unfortunately the suave appearance had been ruined by the clean-pressed jeans he was wearing; however, the jeans seemed to add to the sex appeal. His hair was combed back, except that one piece of hair that seemed to defy gravity. He also smelt good. Likegood good. Good as in walking into a perfume shop and finding that one scent that makes you go weak at the knees good.
Arthur was trying his hardest not to tear the damn suit off of the American, but he restrained himself and left his house, locking up.
The car ride was comfortable even though the conversation was rather awkward; while Arthur would rather be tucked in bed reading a good novel by dusk, he discovered that Alfred would rather stay up all night playing video games. However, there was no lack of common interest… except for when it came to music. The moment Alfred mentioned The Beatles, Arthur was almost ready to pounce and wished the dinner was over already so he could have his way with Alfred.
Alfred pulled up outside a restaurant. Arthur had not been expecting this at all – the restaurant was 4 stars and very expensive. When they entered, he suddenly felt out of place, almost as if his suit wasn't good enough.
"Jones. I reserved a table for two yesterday," Alfred said to the maître d who in return escorted to them to a window seat that was next to an exotic fish tank. Alfred pulled out the chair for Arthur and the Brit was sure his face heated up visibly –it felt as if it would almost combust.
"What are you doing?" He hissed, he turned around and noticed a few couples were giving odd stares to the same sex couple. "People are staring!"
Alfred didn't seem fazed. "Shit, Arthur, if I actually cared I wouldn't have taken you to a high class restaurant. Tonight it's just me and you, no one else. Who cares what the world thinks?"
"Some people do, especially if you're a teacher at the local secondary school!"
"And? I've had gay teachers before. Hell, they were some of the best teachers I've ever had! Just sit down and enjoy this meal, please?"
Arthur sat down, huffily and crossed his arms in defence. Alfred pushed the chair underneath and patted Arthur's back before taking his own seat opposite Arthur and took a look at the menu. Arthur glared at the older couple next to them who were eyeing Alfred and Arthur cautiously.
"If you keep staring long enough, I'll grow a second head," Arthur said, loud enough for the couple to hear and turned away, annoyed and embarrassed. Alfred looked up, confused.
"You wha?"
"Nothing, Alfred. I was just giving some people a what for," Arthur said, picking his own menu up and skimming through the contents. The waiter soon arrived to take their order; Alfred ordered a cheeseburger with sweet potato chips and Arthur ordered the grilled chicken alfredo salad. The waiter asked for drinks and before Arthur could reply, Alfred interjected with red wine. The waiter nodded as he wrote the order down and left.
"Red wine?"
"Well… yeah… it's good for your heart… and stuff," Alfred said, cheeks flaring as he bowed his head to look at the table. Arthur sighed, he felt like he should say something to make Alfred feel better.
"I… er… Alfred," he began, the man in question looked up, "I'm glad you took me out tonight. You're… you're good company."
"Cheers Artie!"
"Artie? My name's Arthur."
"I prefer Artie…"
"Why you-"
"So, favourite Beatles song?" Alfred quickly changed the subject. Arthur merely chuckled before replying.
The two ended up conversing about music and television for most of the night; even as their food and wine arrived, they could not stop.
It wasn't until half past 9 when Alfred brought Arthur home that awkward silence occurred.
Ask him.
"Thank you for the date, Alfred."
Ask him.
"It's my pleasure, Artie. Oops, I mean Arthur."
Arthur smiled appreciatively as he began to get out of the car.
Ask him.
"Well… I'll call you," Arthur said, getting out of the car.
"You got my number, right?" Alfred asked and Arthur patted his trouser pocket in reply. "Sweet… well… see ya…"
"Yes, goodbye…"
Ask him, damn it…
"Alfred…"Arthur began turning back around.
"Arthur?"
ASK. HIM.
"Never mi-" Arthur was cut off as a pair of warm, soft lips were placed onto his own.
Well… finally!
Arthur leant back into the car and dropped his mac onto the floor, his arms coming around to loop Alfred's neck, deepening the kiss. Alfred's arm encircled Arthur's wait, bringing him closer. There was no haste in this kiss; it was slow and romantic, but filled with needy lust and want. Arthur had to force himself to break free.
"Wow," he whispered as their foreheads touched, eyes focused on each other.
"Same time, next week?" Alfred asked.
He works fast… I like it.
"I'm fine with that… but it better be different than dinner…"
"Then how about a movie? And then a romantic walk on the beach?"
Arthur pulled back for a moment and stared at Alfred. He then moved forward with more force, almost knocking Alfred over as his lips slanted over Alfred's for another kiss, this one messier and more lust-filled than the first one.
Several months passed, consisting of about eleven dates in total. Arthur was confident that he was falling in love with Alfred and slowly but surely, he confessed his feelings to the American one fortunate day.
The weather outside was cold, rainy and just plain miserable. Inside the house, however, was warm and provided a happier atmosphere.
Arthur's nervous but very forward confession took Alfred by surprise, and Arthur was almost bowled over when his feelings were returned.
Overwhelmed with passion, Arthur led Alfred up the stairs and towards his bedroom, where he shoved the American onto his bed and closed the door, ensuring their privacy.
"Arthur… why did you accept that date with me the first time we met?" Alfred asked, looking up from his fish and chips. Arthur went straight-faced for a moment, his mind rewinding all the way back to the year before when the two had first met.
"Because… you rescued Montague," he said, nodding to the cat that was cuddling with Alfred's own cat, Hero. "Plus, you were… kind of hot."
Alfred grinned. "Damn, kinda hot, huh."
"What compelled you to ask me out in the first place…?"
"Well… I sorta saw you before. You jog past Mattie's house when I visit sometimes and I was like 'whoa… he's kinda… hot,'" Alfred blushed as he let the truth spill from his lips.
Arthur returned the blush full force. "Y-you thought I was hot?"
"Hell yeah! In those jogging shorts… damn."
Arthur stifled a laugh. "Well… I feel like jogging again now that winter's over… care to join me?"
"Only if you wear those hot shorts…"
Arthur sighed… he wasn't getting the euphemism at all… "Alfred, when I say jogging… oh never mind."
Arthur grabbed Alfred's empty plate and took it out with his own. Alfred's arms circled from behind him. He then lifted Arthur up and carried him upstairs.
"I wanna "jog" too, Artie," Alfred said with a wink.
"Remind me that when we're finished, I have to thank Montague…"
"What for?"
"Well… if it wasn't for his foolishness, we wouldn't be "jogging" right now."
"Oh, right! THANKS MONTY!" Alfred yelled from the landing. They arrived at their bedroom and Arthur's mouth covered Alfred's as the American closed the door with his foot.
Note: Hello guys! This was a oneshot written for CrashTheMIGHTY for being the 200th reviewer.
She didn't really give me a prompt and only gave me the pairing USUK.
So I came up with this on the fly, I'm aware it's probably horribly cheesy, but I like it.
So, here's to you CrashTheMIGHTY, hope you enjoyed it!
And thanks to Trumpet Geek for betaing!
