A/N: Hey guys! So I was browsing Tumblr and this person has some swell USUK AU and headcanon ideas. One caught my eye and I was like INSPIRATION. 'Imagine an AU where Alfred throws a message in a bottle out to sea and on the paper inside it he writes something like
"My brother use to say when we were kids that if you ever threw a bottle out to sea then whoever picked it up and read it is your soul mate, kinda silly, right? And yet here I am trying it." And he put his number inside so whoever picked it up could call him. Arthur finds it and after a small mental debate he calls the number. They talk and Alfred probably says something like "wow so you're my soul mate?" And Arthur would get flustered and say how that's impossible he just wanted to call to say he got it or something, but he kinda really thinks it's cute. Long story short, they get married and Alfred rub it in Arthur face as fate.'
So without further ado, I present to you my contribution to the buttload of heacanons for two dorks! :D Much love u guise 3
Alfred loved the beach. He loved the cool breezes, the thick winds and the powerful gales; the powdery sand, the coarse shingles and the slushy mud; the clear sapphire sky, the promise of gloomy rain and the distinct chill of winter. The American had lost count of how many times he'd been to beaches all throughout the States. His favourite by far was the Clearwater Beach in Florida. He absolutely treasured the pale fluffy sand merging with the prettily glimmering cerulean ocean. The air there was always thick and every time he went there was sun. Not a lot of people were there when he turned up, despite it featuring in the list of many famous and popular beaches in America. The seaside was so beautifully vast and serene that Alfred was thankful to have such a large space to himself, to run about like a madman and kick the sand and sea. He was an adult, but who said he couldn't join in the volleyball games and build sandcastles?
Yes, Alfred rather adored the entire concept of a beach, even the foggy bad-weather-cursed ones. Even then they were still gorgeous. He truly was a sucker for scenery, he couldn't deny.
He sat on the sand of Clearwater Beach, drawing patterns on the terrain with a long spindly stick. His sun kissed skin dripped with sweat and warming water, littered with grains after he had decided to lazily roll around before sitting up. The sunglasses he sported continued to slip down his nose, so he took them off, chucking them behind him. When he didn't hear a tell-tale sound announcing the impact of the accessory on the ground, he looked over his shoulder to see his brother, still clad in that puffy thick hoodie, glasses askew and that old polar bear plush hanging around the arm that wasn't holding Alfred's sunglasses.
"Mattie, d'you ever take that thing off? Surely you gotta be hot, it's almost thirty out today."
"I'm fine. I bought you a Cola."
As he said, Matthew passed Alfred a glass bottle of Cola, cold and dripping, which Alfred was thankful for. Before bringing the lid anywhere near his mouth, he pressed his cheek to the side, the chill of the glass instantly cooling him and sending a giddy frisson down his spine. Matthew situated himself beside him, first laying down a small Canada flag-decorated towel. He gazed at the ocean, drinking from his own bottle of fruity water.
Alfred took his time in finishing his bottle. By the time it was empty, Matthew had lain down on his back and fallen asleep, a reminder for Alfred to wake him up, lest he let his brother catch a nasty sunburn. The American held up his empty bottle, peering through the glass at the distorted image of the ocean and parasols. He remembered when he and his brother had went to a beach in New York. Matthew had claimed that if you sent a message in a bottle into the ocean, whoever came across it was your soul mate. Alfred was incredulous, calling Matthew out on being a 'fibber'. Admittedly, he was still incredulous, although looking back on the memory sparked some curiosity.
He looked from the bottle, to Matthew, then to the ocean, and back to the bottle. A tiny smile tugged at his lips as he snuck a hand into Matthew's pocket, fishing out a scrap piece of notepad paper and finding a pencil in his own pocket. He leaned on his leg and began scribbling a message onto the paper.
'My brother used to when we were kids that if you ever threw a bottle out to sea, then whoever picked it up and read it would be your soul mate. Kinda silly, right? And yet here I am trying it.'
On the bottom corner of the paper he wrote down his number, tingling with excitement. He didn't really believe in the whole soul mate kind of thing, but he supposed he did believe in fate. Was that the same thing? Of course not, he decided, rolling up the paper and shoving it into the bottle. He located the cap and twisted it tightly back on, rather than send it to a person, only for that person to take out a sopping piece of smudged paper.
Alfred shook his brother awake with a hand on his shoulder, telling him he could start walking back and that he would catch up. When Mathew began to leave, Alfred leisurely walked all the way up to the shore and waded out until the water was nipping at his knees. He brought his arm back, straightened the bottle, narrowed his eyes and then, with a breathy grunt, threw the bottle with as much power as he could muster, out into the waves. It splashed into the ocean a good few yards from him. When he saw it resurface and gradually begin bobbing away with the rhythm of the water, he smiled to himself and turned back towards the shore.
Perhaps a tiny part of him did believe in soul mates. Alfred went home that day with a huge smile and a spring in his step.