Okay so... this is my first attempt at writing a Hetalia fanfiction with UsUk. I want to make everyone aware that while there is still comedy in it, it's not exactly tied with the anime. It's just total fluff and fun. Also, my friend helped me with some of the language that England uses. However, I don't see him as often as I want to which means that I won't be able to get his help. I'll have to do what I can to use my own writing talents to do his british slang and what not. ^^;

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

It was one of those cold harsh winters. Arthur rested his throbbing head against his desk as he coughed and sniffled miserably. His whole body seemed to ache with each paper had to sign. There was still a fairly large pile of those papers sitting at the corner of his desk. He looked at his watch and sighed, realizing he had three more hours to go before allowing himself a break. The worst part was that he still had to do a lot of cleaning, despite requiring much needed rest.

Why did he have to be the one to get sick? The flu wasn't exactly his idea of relaxing either. It seemed impossible to rest when one felt cold one minute then hot the next. Arthur took a few sips of his ginger tea which soothed his sore throat and settled his stomach. The ringing of the doorbell caused his already pounding head more pain the he really needed. He rose from his desk and shuffled weakly down the hall. Whoever was at the door grew impatient to the point of molesting his doorbell.

"What the bloody hell do you want?!" he asked a he swung upon the door.

"Geez dude, what's with the attitude all of a sudden? I came all the way here just to visit you, bro!" Alfred replied with a bit of a pout.

"I am extremely infirm at the moment, so kindly bugger off." he said with a rather squeaky voice.

"Dude, you sound funny!" Alfred chuckled at him, only to get Arthur more pissed off.

"Be quiet." Arthur snapped as his voice came to a hoarse whisper. "I've neither the time nor the inclination to deal with your latest antics, not while I have work to be done, now leave me be." he rubbed his temples, trying to rid himself of the immense headache.

"Geez... you're in a pissy mood." Alfred blinked at him without getting a clue.

"Can't you take a hint? I'm ill, you wanker!" Arthur sniffled and shuffled off, allowing Alfred to let himself in.

"Aw, dude... you should have said something!" he replied, finally getting the idea.

"I've been saying it for the past few minutes! Not my fault you're a bloody dunce!" he said, realizing how sore his throat was after speaking so much. "I've already strained my throat talking to you, so for the last time, bugger off!" he told the annoying guest as he made his way back to he office.

"Hold up... if you're sick, why are you doing all this work, bro?" Alfred asked him after following him to his office.

Arthur was doing his best to ignore Alfred so he wouldn't strain his throat anymore. All of a sudden he was scooped up by his unwanted house guest. He felt dizzy and achy from being spun around as Alfred tried to find Arthur's bathroom.

"Unhand me, you twit! You're making me nauseous!" he said to Alfred who stopped and finally found the bathroom.

Alfred placed him into the floor when Arthur let out a sigh. He heard the bath being drawn with hot water as his guest started unbuttoning his shirt. This horrified Arthur as he weakly shoved Alfred away from without making the American budge an inch. Arthur was truly hating the flu for making him feel so weak until eventually shoving Alfred out of his bathroom.

He managed to undress himself and get into the hot bath to relax. The water really seemed to soothe his aching muscles and make him feel at ease. He almost didn't want to get out until his fingers started wrinkling up on him. Arthur dried off and wrapped the towel around himself, remembering that Alfred was probably standing out there waiting. There was no way he was going to go out with just a towel around him.

"Um, do you think you could offer me some clothing?" Arthur blushed as he opened the door a little bit.

"Okay. Sure, bro." Alfred replied as he went to get his companion something to wear.

Alfred came back with some stripped pajamas, which wasn't what Arthur had in mind or wearing. As soon as he had put them on, he started to feel a bit better, but he wasn't completely better. He still ached all over, had the worst headache and a sore throat that stung badly, not to mention he was stuffed up via his nose and chest. Arthur finally came out of his bathroom with a weak sigh that sounded more like a groan.

"Dude, are you gonna be okay?" Alfred asked him with a frown.

"Do I look like I'm going to be alright?" he snapped coldly at the man's dumb remark.

Alfred placed his hand on Arthur's forehead and frowned more. "Geez, you're on fire!" he told him when Arthur noticed the flush of his cheeks.

Arthur sighed as he took the thermometer from his medicine cabinet to place under his tongue. It wasn't until Alfred took it from his mouth and pouted. Alfred realized just how high of a temperature his companion actually had.

"103.2°F... no wonder you're burning up!" Alfred noticed that Arthur was starting to doze off while leaning against the doorway. "Dude, you need to get some rest, man." he remarked, only for Arthur to nearly pass out.

Luckily, Alfred was there to catch him in his arms, scoop him up and carry him to bed. His cheeks seemed redder than usual as Arthur whimpered in his sleep. The other country frowned at him until finally getting a cold washcloth and putting it on his forehead. Arthur's fever still didn't seem to go down much, even with the rest he was getting. This worried America who had no idea what to do to make him feel better.