"Hey, can we still play that pocky game?" Alfred asked as Arthur came back home again. The British man sighed, once again bringing up his previous excuse.
"We don't have any pocky." He pointed out , walking to their room – starting to tug clothes off before he had even gone past the doorway.
"I went out and got some!" He said, pulling out a small packet of pocky (though it was actually some cheap Americanised version of pocky) Arthur stared at the packet for a few seconds before raising his eyebrow at Alfred, as if he was about to say yes.
"No." Arthur abruptly said, finally walking into their room to change into some casual clothes – which was normally a baggy olive green t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Alfred whined, following Arthur in with his arms out to capture him in a hug.
"C'mon, man – it'll be fun!" He said as if he was complaining. Just as he was about to hug Arthur, the shorter male leaped to the side, letting Alfred fall onto the bed – who didn't bother getting up afterwards. Arthur waited by the doorway for a few minutes, in the hopes Alfred would get up and they could go sit in the living room together, but the man didn't budge. He gave out a loud obvious sigh and sat down next to Alfred. He slipped his hand into Alfred's pocket, pulling out the pocky and tearing it open quietly. He slid one into his mouth and then tapped Alfred on the shoulder. He slowly turned his head to see Arthur leaning in with the pocky stick in his mouth – Alfred's eyes brightened and he quickly sat up to chew on the other end of the pocky stick. Their lips both met in the middle, and as the game normally went, they both continued to make out, though Arthur had stopped it before… things happened. Alfred stared at him in complete awe, a faint blush across his cheeks, but still so exhilarated by the kiss.
"Dude, you gotta admit that was pretty hot." Alfred stated bluntly, making the already crimson cheeked British man even more flustered.
"Shut up." He mumbled walking out of the room, though he suddenly stopped when Alfred pointed something out.
"You forgot your shirt." He said, snickering whilst Arthur stared blankly for a few seconds before finally understanding what he was talking about – he hadn't even finished changing.
"Gah!" He yelped, running back into the room to grab the shirt Alfred held in his hands. Unluckily for Arthur, he yanked it out of the shorter man's reach.
"Don't you dare play this game with me." Arthur threatened – though the fact he was shirtless made the threat seem completely adorable and harmless from Alfred's point of view. Arthur, knowing better than to leap like an idiot, decided to take away a piece of Alfred's clothing – he could very easily reach his belt buckle. So he did. He swiftly unhooked it, letting the American's trousers fall to the ground – revealing Alfreds boxers, fabulously coloured in the stars and stripes of a certain flag. But he didn't even flinch.
"Strip me as much as you like, but you're not getting this shirt until you admit you liked that kiss~" Alfred teased, still standing proudly tall with his trousers down.
"You moron, of course I liked the kiss, now give me my bloody shirt back!" Arthur fumed, though the four words he said – 'I liked the kiss' – was enough for Alfred to comply with him. But rather than giving Arthur the shirt, he dressed him.
"I'm not a child-" Arthur began before he was interrupted by the shirt over his face – and by the time it was on him, he didn't bother finishing his sentence. He spun on his heel and walked out to go cook something to eat, once again interrupted just as he was about to leave the room.
"You're not mad at me, are you?" Alfred asked worriedly, wringing his hands. "I thought we were having fun, I didn't mean to annoy you…" He muttered, with genuine concern in his voice. Arthur smiled slightly and then spun back around.
"Come help me cook." was all Arthur needed to say for Alfred to understand he wasn't annoyed. A grin grew across his face and he followed him to the kitchen to help out.
"You're definitely gonna need that help."