Arthur lay on the bed with his arms folded behind his head. He had taken his jacket and tie off, it really wasn't the greatest thing to be wearing in the summer. Hearing the shower turn on, he stood up. He crouched down beside Alfred's suitcase, pulled out his laptop and plugged it into the wall, turning it on. Alfred wouldn't mind, they practically shared everything they had anyways.
The screen flickered on, asking for Alfred's password. Arthur typed in "Hero-certified-burgers" and the tinkly welcome music played. He smirked. Good thing Alfred used the same password for everything.
He sat back on the bed, clicking on the internet icon and setting out to do what he had turned the computer on for in the first place. Grateful for the American's wireless access, he went to Google images. He typed in "Hetalia America and England", wanting to see if his suspicions were correct based on what Alfred and that Russia character had told him. His finger hovered over the go button. Good idea? Bad idea? Curiosity took over and he hit 'enter'. He started skimming over the pictures, one by one. Yes, yes, okay… he thought, seeing images of the two standing beside each other…Sure…wait, wait… there were a couple images of the two nations kissing. Arthur blushed. He had half-expected it, but the pictures still came as a bit of a surprise to him. Okay. What! The further down the page he went, the more strange and awkward the images got. There was one with England as a policeman, handcuffing America to a bed in a way that seemed far too intimate to be an arrest, while – for a reason Arthur could not possibly fathom – neither of them were wearing shirts. Another where you couldn't see the bottom half of the picture, but in which England was gasping and blushing profusely while America had his hands near the other's nether regions, doing God-knows-what, as the image was cut off at this point.
Arthur quickly closed the window, shaking slightly and feeling an odd tingling sensation in his nose. He shook his head, opening the internet again and signing into his Facebook account. He wondered if Alfred knew how incredibly messed up his fandom was. But, Arthur had to admit, the anime was bloody hilarious.
He scrolled down the page, checking whatever was in the feed, when Alfred's status caught his eye. It read:
Alfred F Jones
is out of the closet! ^_^ Thank you Arthur Kirkland!
Arthur facepalmed.
He groaned loudly, massaging his temples. Only Alfred would make a huge deal at first of something like being gay then announce it excitedly to the world. And, saying it in as stupid a manner as "out of the closet".
Just then, Alfred emerged from the bathroom wearing only his boxers and carrying his costume in his arms. He spotted Arthur on the bed. "Wat'cha doing there?" he asked.
Arthur looked up. "Facebook," he said. "Really, Alfred? Your status?" he asked incredulously.
Alfred smiled sheepishly. "You're the one who said no one would judge me."
Arthur sighed. "Yes, but they won't take you seriously if you just say it like that!" He paused. "Then again, it's you…" he said.
Alfred dropped his costume to the floor and climbed onto the bed beside him, resting his chin on Arthur's shoulder. "Sure, sure. Thanks for worrying, buddy, but to be honest" – he smiled – "I don't really give a shit what they think."
Arthur gave him a disbelieving look before turning his head back to the screen. "Your choice," he said, clicking the 'like' button on the status.
"Arty…" Alfred said, shifting his chin so he could see the screen better, "why did you Google that?" He pointed to the little Google search bar in the upper corner of the screen, which still said "Hetalia America and England".
Shit, Arthur thought. He had forgotten about that thing. "U-uh…I was curious…" he mumbled awkwardly.
Alfred frowned. "Yeah…you could have asked me, you know?" He bent over and grabbed his jacket, pulling out the package that Kiku had given him. He unwrapped the thing and handed it to Arthur. "Fanservice," he explained.
Arthur examined the cover, which seemed to be on the back of the book. On it was a simple picture of America and England sitting on a porch and looking lazy. "Bliss," he read. "By Kiku Honda." He cocked an eyebrow.
"Yup. Kiku drew all this. Oh, you may want to keep that fact secret, by the way," he said, quieter.
"Why?"
"You'll know when you read it."
"Do I really want to?"
"Mmm…you decide."
Arthur shrugged and started reading, backwards. Really, how bad could it be, coming from Kiku?
He flipped through the first few pages. It was hard to read at first, but eventually he understood the way the speech bubbles and everything went.
England had invited America on vacation, just for the hell of it is what it seemed like. They found themselves practically alone at some random island that apparently nobody lived on, because the two nations seemed to be the only ones there. Some stuff happened that Arthur didn't really understand…
But the one thing he did notice was the lack of storyline. It seemed like the entire point of the beginning of the story was to get them starting the 'important' bit.
"Hey England…" "Hmm?" "England…?" "What?" "England…" "What do you want, you bloody – mmph!"
At this point America had simply grabbed England and started kissing him forcefully.
Arthur went bright red seeing this, blushing even further at the detailed close-up shots emphasizing the tonguing involved in the kiss. The two went inside to their hotel room…
Arthur turned his head to look at Alfred. Alfred laughed uncomfortably, obviously trying to hide how embarrassed he was.
"What happens next…is it what I think it is?" Arthur asked him.
"Well…yeah," he said. He still had that sheepish look on his face.
Arthur turned the page and peeked at the other side. England had forced America down on the bed and straddled him. There were little breath clouds emerging from their mouths, carrying strange sound effects such as 'hah' and 'nngh'. The picture was still "innocent" at this point. He flipped another page, on which the two of them were starting to take off their clothes.
Alfred sighed, blowing warm breath on Arthur's neck.
Arthur shuddered. "Jesus, Alfred, that's really creepy. Especially while I'm reading this," he said.
"Sorry." He lifted his chin, but kept staring at the page with lustful eyes.
Arthur turned the page and stared at it, trying to process what he saw. Then he jumped, dropping the book in shock.
"Wh-what in hell…" Arthur said, blushing.
Alfred fell off the bed laughing. Literally.
Arthur shuddered. It had been a picture that spanned both pages, every detail inked in carefully and deliberately and…bloody realistically. From where the two nations had their hands, to their facial expressions – America's, sheer ecstasy; England's, pain – to even every aspect of their freaking anatomy. It really left nothing to the imagination. "Alfred…wh-what…"
"Ha…ha…you should have seen your face!" Alfred said, lifting himself back up onto the bed.
"How do you read that?" Arthur exclaimed. "It's…It's…" he didn't quite know how to finish his sentence. "Kiku drew that?"
"That's why I said not to tell anyone 'bout it," he said, wiping the tears from his eyes. "That thing's a doujinshi, by the way. It's…well, in case you haven't guessed, stuff that fans draw. Usually X-rated." Alfred grinned at him.
Arthur swallowed. He picked up the book and put it facedown on his lap. "You're a real creep, you know that?"
"You have a problem with it?"
"I don't care, you do whatever you want."
Alfred smiled. "Somehow I figured you'd say that."
Arthur stood up. He handed the doujinshi to Alfred, who grabbed it and immediately started reading where he and Arthur had left off.
Arthur stared at him in disbelief, shook his head and went to take a shower.
Alfred grinned at his retreating back and curled up contentedly with his doujin.
-
Arthur emerged several minutes later wearing only his boxers and rubbing the water out of his hair with a towel. He chucked the rest of his costume on his suitcase and looked over at Alfred, whose face – bright red – was still buried in the pages of the book. He didn't look up once as Arthur lifted the sheet and climbed into the bed beside him. Arthur peered over Alfred's shoulder to see where he was in the "story".
England and America had, evidently, just finished their business. They lay beside each other and America was stroking England's cheek.
"Hey, England, you're falling for me, aren't you?" "W-well…you are too." "Yup."
America kissed England for, what, the fiftieth time in that tiny book.
Arthur rolled his eyes. Those lines were cheesy as hell.
Alfred, however, let out an "Awwww" worthy of a 10-year-old girl.
He closed the book with a sigh. "That was awesome."
"Yeah. Right." Arthur flopped over on the bed, looking at Alfred's watch. 11:30. He turned so he was facing away from the other. "Get the lights, will you?" he said into the pillow.
"Sure thing." Alfred got up and hit the switch, placing the doujinshi and his glasses carefully on the end table beside him. "'Night, Artie."
"Goodnight." Arthur felt Alfred slip under the covers beside him. The size of the bed made it so that they were both almost falling off the edge.
Within ten minutes, Alfred was asleep and snoring.
Arthur sighed, rolled onto his back and pulled the sheets off his chest. It was a bloody hot night, even with the air-con on. He folded his hands behind his head, trying to get some sleep, but Alfred's snoring was preventing any chance of it. He closed his eyes and simply lay there thinking – now that he had time, and peace and (almost) quiet.
This was not necessarily a good thing, when he was trying to forget that the two of them had had any moment of intimacy whatsoever. Arthur touched his mouth subconsciously. He remembered the feeling of Alfred's lips pressing against them, so unbelievable that it had shut down his brain to the point where he didn't realize what he was doing and lost track of time. Unbelievable yet amazing – however much he hated to admit it.
He was pulled out of the moment by the sound of Alfred sighing and rolling over onto his back, accidentally whacking Arthur's stomach in the process. "Mmm…England…" he mumbled.
Arthur smirked. Alfred was an England fanboy on a whole other level. He bloody well dreamed about the guy. Though Arthur still didn't understand how it was possible for him to be in love with a 2-D image…
Alfred rolled over again so he was partially lying on top of the other. Arthur scowled quietly and tried to push the heavy American off his chest. Alfred didn't budge. He simply rubbed his head into the crook of Arthur's neck. "England…" he said again with a slurred voice.
Arthur gave up his struggle and exhaled, allowing Alfred to shift more directly overtop of him. He kept mumbling England's name and random other indistinguishable words all the while squirming about, which was disturbing the Brit greatly.
He started all of a sudden, hearing Alfred mumble something odd. He shook his head, thinking he had misheard him. Alfred repeated himself, louder and more pronounced. "Arthur…" he said. "Arthur…love…"
Arthur tensed up completely, suddenly becoming very awake. More conscious of Alfred's cheek rubbing against his shoulder, Alfred's chest pressed firmly against his own, the soft breath on his neck, the hair against his chin, the hand brushing his ear, the notable bulge leaning against his – WHAT AM I THINKING?
Arthur closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, feeling his heart rate go absolutely insane. This really shouldn't be bothering me, Arthur told himself in an effort to calm down. It's just a dream…just a really weird, awkward dream of his…
It didn't really work. His heart was still hammering against Alfred's chest, so loud he was surprised the American didn't react to it. He moved his arm, taking Alfred's wrist and trying to move it gently away from his face. Alfred grunted in his sleep and pulled his wrist away, moving his arms up the pillow to go around the top of Arthur's head.
Arthur groaned. How the hell am I getting to sleep now…
After lying there stupidly for a few minutes, he figured out if he kept thinking about the odd situation he currently found himself in, he'd be up the whole night and be dead tired for the next bit of the convention in the morning.
The convention. God, he'd never realized he'd have so much fun. At first, he had dreaded the idea of spending three days with 8, 000-odd anime freaks in the same building. Afraid he wouldn't understand a thing that was going on and that Alfred would just forget that he was there, going off to rant to other random people (like he often did).
Then, after being there for a mere five hours at the most, he found he didn't need to know anything. It was easygoing, which wasn't exactly Arthur's style, but was nice as a change of pace once in a while. And just to be able to spend free time with his best friend, dancing, cosplaying, sprinting and laughing…doing everything they did, really. To Alfred, it may have been like just another of his days. But to Arthur, it was like going batshit insane and absolutely loving it.
Arthur sighed. That, he decided, is what I'm going to do. For once, I'm going to let everything go absolutely mental and not care at all. If Alfred loves me for being like England, let him love. I don't care. No more thinking.
Having resolved his issue, he sighed and smiled. He wrapped his arms tightly around Alfred and drifted off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
