A/N: Busy busy busy!

I literally just wrote this about an hour ago. I wasn't going to, but then iNSPIRATION STRUCK. So here we have some short, angsty, stream-of-thought-ish domestic USUK fluff for Independence Day. Woohoo!

Things will be busy this week. I'll be on hiatus starting the 12th for two weeks-ish. But before then, I want to write something for France's birthday (because I can't choose between USUK and FRUK. Help.). I also want to update euther Novocaine or Verheddert. Probably Verheddert, as I've hit a wall with Novocaine.

Anywho, please enjoy this short little thingy.

It's 6 in the morning, I'm still awake

My sleepless heart is torn up, babe

A love song's on the radio,

But these words I hear – they're not for me, no.

He hadn't slept all night.

The words of their last conversation still rang through his head. He still remembered how angry he had been when he found out he couldn't come home for his birthday. How Arthur had become angry at him in return. How what was supposed to be a simple phone call ended in the sound of a dead receiver.

Some birthday this was turning out to be.

He probably shouldn't have gotten so angry. It wasn't really his fault. It wasn't like Arthur had been the one to postpone the meeting until the fourth. It was unrealistic for him to expect for him to simply skip the meeting, as well. Arthur's passion lay in writing, and getting this publishing deal would mean the world to him. It was selfish for him to expect Arthur to put him before his work, wasn't it?

Not like he'd admit he was being rude if he asked, though.

He sighed, glancing out of his window. The skyline he saw from his apartment window was grey and bleak. How befitting. The forecast was supposed to become better later on in the day, so there were still going to be fireworks. But he didn't care about them anymore.

He had only wanted to see them with Arthur.

He had thought about calling the brit, but had made so many excuses as to why he didn't. International rates. Time difference. Not wanting to accidentally interrupt the meeting.

All of them were cover ups for the true reason.

He was afraid that Arthur would still be angry. The brit could certainly hold a grudge if he wanted to.

He should stop being so hung up on this. It was his birthday, and Independence Day. He could afford to have some fun and enjoy himself. Treat himself to a good lunch, maybe buy that watch he had wanted for a while. Heck, even sleeping the whole day would be enjoyable.

He couldn't force himself to, of course.

Rolling over in bed, he looked at the alarm clock. 5:57. It had been about a day since he had slept.

13 hours and 24 minutes since he had last called Arthur.

He hated everything about the situation.

Supid, stupid, stupid.

6:00. The alarm went off, Modern English's I Melt With You playing on the radio.

The song and it's love filled lyrics mocked him in his misery.

He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He had to apologize, he knew. Swallow his pride. Taking a deep breath, he turned the radio off and reached for his phone.

It rang before he could make the call. The familiar photo of his sleeping boyfriend greeted him, and he hesitantly answered the call.

"Happy birthday, love," the clear, smooth British voice on the other end of the line said. Despite the pet name, the terse message seemed bitter.

"Artie..."

"That isn't my name," Arthur sighed. "Aren't you at least going to thank me?"

"Yeah... Thanks..." He paused. "Arthur, I..."

"I know. I am, as well. I overreacted, I'm sure..."

The silence said everything.

"Look," Arthur continued after a lengthy pause on both ends. "I moved my flight up. I'll be home tomorrow. We'll celebrate this weekend." Another pause. "Don't assume you're completely off the hook, Jones. I'm still terribly pissed. Just not as pissed as before. But you can certainly expect an earful when I get home."

"I'll bet," Alfred chuckled halfheartedly. "Ya know you could do better than me, right?"

"That just means you're bloody lucky to have me. So you'd best be grateful."

"Trust me, man, I am."

A soft chuckle cane from Arthur's end of the line. "Happy birthday, love. Enjoy some fireworks for me."

"I will, I will." He smiled; a relieved and tired smile. "I love you, Artie."

"I love you, too, twit."