Written for USUK Summer Camp 2012

Spirit of Adventure

July 22: Adventure is out there (Spirit of Adventure)

By HamburgerWithTea

/Summary/

WW2 is over and Arthur is helping clean up LondonCity. That is until he bumps into an American pilot with the same duty, and soon he's invited to a flight that will show his surroundings from up in the air and change his life forever...

It was bittersweet to feel how free everything was without the threat of the German military, yet seeing the pure and utter mess around the streets; buildings destroyed, some half standing, a few dead bodies on street corners and mothers with their children looking for which ever belongings they could find in the rubbish that was once their house while worrying about whether their husband was still alive, or that he'd died a noble death in the army.

Arthur Kirkland looked over the mess as he tried to remember how the houses used to be. They once were so beautiful, so strong, as if nothing could ever destroy them, yet the bombs had done their job and every building in London bore at least a scratch, a mark of the war.

The blond haired, green eyed Briton couldn't help but stare around him. He'd never expected his home town, the capital of the country he was so proud of, to end up like this. It was as if it was all a horrible nightmare and he could wake up any moment to realise this hadn't happened— the war never started and the men, women and children of his and other countries would continue their happy life. But he knew that was just his wishful thinking; there was no way this disaster could have been a dream, for it was even scarier than the most frightening nightmare one could think of.

Arthur had been wounded in war —his leg to be exact— and was sent home to England to recover. By the time he'd done so, despite his leg still being a bit stiff at times from where he had been shot, the war was over and he was kept home in order to help restore the city in its former beauty. Together with a few Americans and Canadians that had been shipped over, but had also been called back to England because the war had ended, they were in duty of clearing up as much rubbish as possible in the hopes it would cheer the people up a bit.

Bump!

"Oi there, buddy, don't just stand there! People will walk into you!" A young, a bit too loud voice called to Arthur, "Sorry 'bout that by the way."

"W-what? How dare you…!" Arthur said, still a bit thunderstruck about the other (obviously American) bumping into him, "I-… You should have watched where you were going! I was just standing here, not moving, so you're to blame!" he spat out, not caring who it was. Probably one of these obnoxious kids that thought they had seen fights, had seen blood, had seen horror. Thinking they were the ones fighting the hardest and being heroes for saving England, though the English had fought for many, many more years.

"Dude, I said I'm sorry okay, calm down!" the voice said and Arthur decided to finally look closer at the man in front of him. The first thing to he noticed about him were his blue, very blue, eyes (which were hiding behind glasses) and the weird pluck of hair sticking up from the rest of his hair, which made him look even more stupid in Arthur's opinion. The Briton figured the boy was probably a pilot or at least working for the air force, because he worn a thick and obnoxious bomber jacket. Show off!

"Stupid Americans…" Arthur mumbled under his breath as he dusted off his clothes in order to ignore the other. He should just get on with his work and not mess with guys like this; they would only waste his time and the officer in charge of them would not be happy about him slacking off.

Despite his attempts to just mumble so the other wouldn't understand, the boy looked up, eyes wide, as he grabbed Arthur by his shoulders.

"Hey wait, take that back! We're not stupid!" Alfred said, suddenly tone serious. He wasn't really angry, he was used to hearing this, but he found it important to be able to show the other that he was wrong; Americans were nice and heroic!

"Yes you are! Now unhand me please, despite you I work hard to finish my job of cleaning the city by the end of the day!" the smaller blond said as he tried to walk past Alfred, but the hands on his shoulders were strong and there was no way he could escape from them, "I said, unha-"

"Please, let me show you I'm not one of these 'stupid Americans'," the American blond quickly said in order to cut the other off, "Please, I can assure you, I won't disappoint you! I swear on my heroicness!" The pleading, naïve look in his eye made Arthur ponder. Well, the war was over now, so maybe he could find some amusement in these miserable times.

"Okay then, if you insist. May I know your name then, you oh-so-heroic one?" Arthur asked with an obvious sarcastic tone, but it seemed to fly right over the other's head as he instantly replied to the question.

"Alfred F. Jones, first class fighter pilot, at your service!" he jokingly added, while giving Arthur a mock bow, "What's yours?"

"Arthur Kirkland, Brigadier." Arthur replied with a quick, proud nod of his head. The other may make a fool of himself, but Arthur would make sure to act like a proper gentleman. Though he had to admit he was a bit jealous of Alfred's status; it was one of the most admired ones out there and even Arthur himself would like the rank. Not for the exciting dogfights or anything, but just because he'd always wanted to fly his own plane.

Alfred just nodded before he walked off, tugging Arthur along with him. He was going to show Arthur something spectacular, even though it may it be a bit saddening. Despite that, he knew it would be worth it, and he would actually be able to show off something pretty cool. Alfred figured he was lucky to know a few people here-and-there, so he was able to get by and wouldn't be restricted from doing what he was about to do. I t was nothing really bad, but very strict officials could ruin his plans easily.

It didn't take long before both sat in a damaged army car, on their way to their destination. Alfred had spoken to the officer in charge of Arthur and his group, and surprisingly the man had let them go off for now. Arthur seriously started to wonder just what kind of contacts this blond American had.

By the time the car started to slow down, Arthur could see how several big roads together turned out to be an airport. He'd seen bigger, but he figured this would be good to hide due to its rather small size.

"Okay, here we go!" Alfred said, as he nodded to the driver in a quick thank you while Arthur was climbing off the car and looked around to orientate himself. A few planes were standing around and some big barns were standing around, properly covered in fake grass as the windows had been painted black to stop the light showing through the windows late at night. The size and effort in hiding it made it rather obvious they were used to store most of the planes.

A quick tap on Arthur's shoulder made him realise Alfred was a few feet away from him, already walking to one of the barns. A hopeful tug in Arthur's heart made him think that maybe, just maybe, he would be offered a flight in the American's plane.

Arthur was lucky. Not much had been said as Alfred was checking everything about his plane, but eventually he gave a happy thumbs up and told Arthur to sit in the seat behind him.

"What kind of plane is this even?" Arthur asked, while taking the helmet Alfred was reaching out to him and stepping into the plane, "It does seem familiar…"

"Haha!" Alfred laughed, "It's a 'Mustang P-51D', special one with two seats. It's actually from the French air force but a good French friend of mine let me borrow it. It's very useful to look over the country, you see. It can be used to see where most damage has been done and all." The American blond seemed to ramble on and on, apparently too focussed on his own talking to notice how Arthur was ready to set of, and trying not to show that he was definitely excited over this.

Soon enough though, the plane started to roll out of the barn and onto the long asphalt way. Arthur had flown before. His uncle used to love planes before he was sent off to war, only for his family to receive a letter of his death two years later. He'd often taken Arthur with him on one of his recreation planes and he liked to design some himself. Back then, Arthur had been too young and inexperienced to try flying and it had been a long while since he'd last experienced it: the weird feeling of freedom, of being in the air once more.

The take off was clear, fast and surprisingly fluent. Arthur could feel his body giving resistance to the feeling of being in air, as gravity pulled him back down, but it was a comfortable feeling and it brought back wonderful memories. From the take-off, Arthur could notice Alfred was well-experienced on flying.

After a few minutes in the air, Arthur could hear a voice speaking through the headphones he was wearing.

"Artie, you okay in there?" was what Arthur could make up of it, despite it being scratchy and unclear.

"I was until I heard your disgusting voice!" Arthur replied, not sure how to express himself. Of course he didn't think Alfred's voice was disgusting, but it'd be weird to tell him just how wonderful this was right after he'd claimed all Americans were stupid. He had too much pride to give in on that!

As time and cities passed by and the both of them had a small chit chat once in a while (not too much for Alfred had to concentrate on flying of course), Arthur started to feel like a child again. Like it was the adventure he'd had as a kid of flying for the first time, all over again. It was free —it was wonderful.

Arthur couldn't imagine how he'd lived so long without being able to experience this feeling. The feeling of freedom, aside from the freedom he felt from the war being over, he didn't even know how to express it. Where he was normally good with words and being able to silent almost everyone with his perfect grammar and word use, he was now unable to find a good word for this feeling.

Freedom, excitement, speed, emotions…

All the feelings seemed to take over his body even more as time passed. By the time they landed safely back on the ground, Arthur already missed the feeling of being in-air. It had been a weird, bittersweet flight and he was still amazed by it.

Despite feeling free as a bird, not worrying about anything as long as he looked up to the clouds, he had also seen the destroyed cities and villages, sometimes completely wiped out into one big, black mess. He wondered just how many people had died with all the bombing, though then again he didn't want to think about war. He didn't want to experience it all over again.

Still, the flight had been a long-awaited adventure and Arthur could swear he felt fitter after it all. His leg was still stiff and hurting, the doctor said it might never heal completely, but Arthur felt better than he'd felt for ages.

"Enjoyed that?" Alfred asked him, and suddenly Arthur was pulled back to reality, "Haha, you look like you had the time of your life. I'm okay with flying you around if you ever want to again!" he said, stupid, bright grin on his face, yet for some reason it made the experience even greater. The boy had something not many others had; he could light up the whole room just by his positive thinking and bright personality.

The rest of the day they had spent chatting, occasionally arguing, yet for some reason the weeks after that they still kept meeting up. Alfred would sometimes offer Arthur a flight, and slowly the smaller blond even started to recognise the country from the air after flying around it so much. And despite having flown that way over ten times, he still couldn't help but feel wonderful being in-air. As if he belonged there.

Most of the rubbish in the city had been cleaned up, only the very big pieces of stone and rubbish were still lying around and obviously, buildings were far from restored. But as people started to pick up normal life again —slowly but surely —one could see improvement. And if it weren't improvement on the environment, it'd be the people's personalities; everyone seemed happier and more hopeful than ever.

Time passed and their meetings became more and more frequent. Arthur had never expected to become to like this guy so much. For some reason, he really was the type of friend he'd been looking for, for so long, yet could never find. It was wonderful to have such a good friend around right after such a miserable and lonely time. All his brothers, the only family he'd left, had been sent to war after all. They were promised the soldiers would soon return, but it was hard to tell when exactly for everything was messy and unorganised after the victory.

The fonder they got of each other, the closer they grew. So close even that on one cosy, silent evening (except for the radio playing music in the background), with a bottle of whiskey and all, at one point Alfred found himself grabbing Arthur's hand an lifting him up from his seat at the table.

"W-wha-" Arthur was surprised, but the dozed feeling of alcohol made him lean in to it and let him be swirled around anyways. Arthur didn't know what he was doing nor did he really care at the moment, as Alfred slowly put one hand on the lower part of his back and started to move around the room in a slow pace.

The booze and music made it all really peaceful, and despite both of their hearts beating loudly, they both felt calm and slowly started to lean in to each other until both chests met at some point.

It couldn't be helped really, they figured, as they kept swaying from one foot to the other. Once they had slowly but surely reached the radio, Alfred let go of Arthur's hand for a bit to turn up the volume by a bit, only to grab Arthur's had as soon as possible again after he'd done so.

The words were loud and clear, despite the crackling sound of the radio, and both just listened to the lyrics as neither of them spoke. The slow song soon ended though, a song about love apparently, and was replaced by a new song playing. This one was a bit more up-beat and before Arthur realised, Alfred started to sing along and twirl him around. Alfred looked so silly!

"Adventure is out there, it's heading our way, so grab your scarf and goggles, let's fly!" Alfred sang, while happily swirling around on the beat, grabbing Arthur's hands, "…A moonbeam we will own…" The smile grew wider and wider on Alfred's face ,and Arthur couldn't help but smile along.

Far too soon for both of their likings, the song got closer to the end to eventually, with on last sentence, end.

"…My Spirit of Adventure is you!" Alfred exclaimed as they both looked into each other's eyes. And yes, it was true. Adventure.

After all the sadness and all the difficulties, they could finally go on an adventure again, together this time. With their plane they would travel the world, travel to Alfred's country, travel around the United Kingdom. They would always be together, they would be each other's adventure as each and every day would exist of bickering and hugs, arguments and kisses…

"It's true," Alfred whispered, neither of them breaking eye contact, "You really are my adventure., an adventure I'd not wish to share with anyone else but you." A small, pink tint started to show on the taller man's face, as he nervously bit his lip.

"T-that.." Arthur said, not sure what to say, "That's wonderful love —I was thinking the same." He exclaimed before he even realised. But he knew it was true, he knew it was his honest feelings; for once no mask would ever be able to cover up his true feelings— they were far too strong.

Both waited in excitement as eyes came closer, noses touched and eventually the warmth of skin-to-skin could be felt on both their lips. The warmth spread from their lips onto their cheeks and the rest of their body, but they didn't mind, neither of them.

They knew that no matter what obstacles they would have to face, they would be there for each other and they would make sure to stand strong. People might not approve of their love, but they didn't have to know. They would travel away from these people, away from the sadness of the war, off to a new part of life. Adventure is what they were heading for and nothing that'd cross their path would keep them from it, as their love grew stronger and stronger.

They knew for sure, each day would be an adventure from now on.

Thanks to Nutty for betaing!

/Author's Note/

Aaaaaaand here's the result of the first theme?

Omg you ever realise how bloody hard it is to make something historically accurate? I looked around for so long, geez! And that while I even know stuff about planes, but still information is hard to get by. Normally I'd ask my dad, but it'd be awkward to ask him telling him it's for a story about two fictional characters being gay for each other xD haha

Well ok this sucked, I hate how oneshot always kill opportunities for good character development, but I really felt like I should write this so I did. I'm sorry for it and I shall try harder next time!

Let's hope I'm able to update all possible days (27-28 and 29th of July I'll be away :I) it'd really be a great achievement for myself!

Please look forward to more daily updates! REVIEWS ARE LOVE despite it being crappy, I know ;A;

I do not own Hetalia or the characters, those belong to their rightful (awesome) creator, Hidekaz Himaruya!

Nor do I own any information used in this story

Also, the song isn't mine. All rightful owners stuff!

(07/23/11)

/Sources/