Drinking was never a habit of Arthur's, really.

It was only a habit when he was depressed.

Which was about 65% of the time.

In the days of pirating, when Arthur plundered the seas and fought Antonio's ships, he drank rum as if it were water. The rum did not become foul, nor did it ever loose its freshness, like water did. After such a long time in the ship's cargo hold, the water would become foul and dirtied. Such dirtied water often caused illnesses and even poisoning. Rum, the main drink of a pirate, was the perfect role for them. Like the life of a pirate, it was bitter and yet addictive. And there was something, something that Arthur could not put into words, about drinking rum as you inhaled the intoxicating scent of the ocean. The fresh salty sea air only made the rum taste even better. However, as Arthur's pirate days began to decline, his love of rum did as well. No longer did rum taste so amazing and full of freedom. It tasted like what it actually was, alcohol. Not a miraculous and addictive drink that brightened the spirits and rushed your blood....just alcohol. When Arthur rank rum while on a modern boat, it wasn't the same. The sense of danger and adventure were what completed the addictive formula of rum for him, and with his pirating days gone out the window, it was just another drink.

It wasn't until after the American Revolution when Arthur began drinking like he always does.

The first week after the Treaty of Paris of 1783 was signed, Arthur just aimlessly walked about, not caring where he was going or what would happen to him. The pain of loosing Alfred, and the shame of it, greatly numbed his senses. The next thing he knew, he bought a bottle of gin and was at home, pouring himself a glass. One glass was not enough. As soon as he gulped the one down, he felt the need to pour more. Two glasses. Three. Four. Five. And soon, he was up to about over twenty. His mind had become fuzzy, and the memories of the Revolution were slightly fading. Arthur liked this. He found himself drinking away his pain, enjoying the feeling of relief. It was almost as if an ocean current had whisked him away from the darkness of the earth, and he was floating somewhere above it. The gin was good, and the feeling of loosing consciousness was better...at least, until morning came. All the alcohol he consumed caused one hell of a hangover, but Arthur didn't care. For one night, he felt no pain or torment. Of course, Arthur refused to become a drunkard. He took up the habit of drinking away his heavy sorrows, not just the ones he felt everyday. If he drank away all his sorrows, he would be wasted everyday.

"Excuse me, Mr. Kirkland? Are you alright?"

Arthur looked up at the bartender and nodded blankly. His mind was not yet clouded by the alcohol. He needed more in his system. "Perhaps that is enough, sir. Any more, and you'll become drunk again!" The bartender was well aware of Arthur's tendency to over do it. "Nonsense. Now, poor me another round," Arthur grumbled. He needed to numb this pain once more. Alfred would never love him, and now he had to accept it. It was fucking hard, but he had to try. But first, he'd drink away the pain.

The bartender hesitated.

"I said..." Arthur glared at the bartender angrily. "...poor me another fucking round! I refuse to leave until I am COMPLETELY drunk, you hear!?" The bartender quickly poured the angered Englishman another mug, then hurried to the other customers.

Hmph, that bloody barmpot wouldn't understand anyways, he thought with a scowl. I haven't seen or heard from Alfred in days...I guess my plan to ignore him is coming along better than I thought. The only problem is the damn UN meeting next week. I'll have to talk to him then....maybe I can find a way.....

He took another gulp of the beer, and sighed heavily. Why was it taking so damn long to get drunk? He just wanted to black out....even if for just a moment. When it came to Alfred, he had to get wicked drunk to black out. Just thinking about the handsome American snapped Arthur out of any haze or thoughts. How many times had he tried to win Alfred back? He even tried making weapons and other things that Alfred would like, all to win him back.

However, it is not the affection of a brother Arthur desires from Alfred.

No, Arthur desires love.

Real love. Not the hots, not a crush, not sexual need (although he did sometimes think about that part with Alfred....)

Love.

"Too bad he's too stupid to even know I love him...fuck, I have to stop thinking about him too. Come on, Arthur, Alfred is dead to me now. I can't just stop talking to him, I must stop thinking about him...." He took another sip of his beer, only to splutter it out as he took a glance at the mirror in front of him. The pub's wall behind the counter was covered, every inch, by a mirror.

And in that mirror he saw Alfred standing behind him, a shocked expression on his face.

Oh fucking shit...please let it be a hallucination....oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck....

"A-Arthur....." Alfred managed to stammer.

Without saying anything in reply, Arthur turned back to his drink, pretending the American was not there. His eyes, however, were widened in horror. What would Alfred say? he just heard Arthur admit love out loud...not to mention his plan to ignore Alfred permanently. He heard Alfred approach, and soon he felt the American's hand resting on his shoulder.

"Arthur...you love me?"

Alfred's face was flushed, and his eyes seemed to be watering... Was it just Arthur's imagination, or did Alfred look...happy?

When Arthur didn't reply, except for the telltale blush on his face, Alfred said another thing.

"Arthur, I love you too...."

It came out as a soft whisper, but Arthur heard it loud and clear.

He's lying.....

Liar...

Liar!

LIAR!!!

Arthur shoved Alfred's hand away and stood up to face him, pure hurt and anger washed over his face.

"YOU LIAR!!!!" He yelled out, tears already dripping down his face. "YOU FUCKING LIAR!!!" The Englishman tore out of the bar, despite Alfred's frantic plead to listen. "You didn't pay your bill!" the bartender cried out, the other customers were watching with bewildered expressions as well. Alfred hastily reached into his pocket and threw a 50 dollar bill at the bartender, then raced off after Arthur.

"What do you expect me to do with this?" the bartender muttered.


Alfred raced after the Brit, ignoring the stinging pain from the cold night air. It didn't matter. if he were to be shot at this moment, he would continue on after Arthur without even stopping. Why did Arthur not believe him? Why accuse him of being a liar? It didn't make any fucking sense, but all that mattered was getting to Arthur. The American had already lost the Englishman due to the minor delay at the bar. Where could he be? At home? No, that was too obvious. Knowing Arthur, he would go somewhere where he could be alone, where Alfred would never find him.

An idea sprang into his mind. Alfred pulled out his cellphone and dialed the number, ceasing his running. His breaths came out in pants as he waited to hear the single melody of Amazing Grace.

He heard it!

Alfred raced towards the sound, thinking of Arthur with each step. He loved Arthur with all of his heart, even though they argued a lot, he loved him. Don't ask him how and when he fell in love with his former mentor, because Alfred wouldn't be able to answer. It just happened. One day, he just knew he loved Arthur, and that he would do anything to win his heart. The other day, when Francis told Alfred that Arthur wouldn't love him so easily, Alfred didn't believe it. After all, in all of the movies in America, one confession brought them together, right?

Wrong.

Alfred was wrong, just as Francis said.

He was always wrong when it came to Arthur. He realized that at the G8 meeting, and realization hit him hard. Arthur was always in pain, always alone, always....

And when Alfred kissed Arthur that night he found his unconscious body, he felt like he was dying and yet soaring at the same time. The second time Alfred's lips met Arthur's flesh, it was not on the lips, but on his chest and arms. He knew it was so sudden and bold, but he couldn't contain himself. Arthur must have been hurt, thinking Alfred was playing around.

Arthur.....! Art--!

Alfred's inner cries of joys ceased as he saw Arthur's cellphone, still ringing, discarded on the ground.

Where was Arthur?

Alfred gritted his teeth, not caring who would hear him now...

"Damn it, Arthur! Please, don't run away from me! Please...just listen to what I have to say! Arthur! Please!!"

Silence.

"ARTHUR!!!"

"Just what makes you think I want to listen to you!?" Alfred's head snapped up as he saw Arthur standing across from him. He was scowling, but tears were dripping down his face. "All you ever do is talk nonsense and lies, all for fun! You think its funny!? Well it isn't, you fucking bastard!"

"Arthur....please...just--!"

"SHUT UP! I don't want to hear it!!!"

Alfred was loosing hope. Arthur turned to leave, but Alfred just couldn't...couldn't loose Arthur again...

The next thing Arthur knew, Alfred had embraced him, his arms wrapping around the Brit like a security blanket.

"A-Alfred....."

"Arthur, please...listen...."

"...fine then."

Alfred could feel tears pool in his own eyes as he prepared to let it all out. Everything he felt towards Arthur would have to come out here and now, or else Arthur would never talk to him again....never smile that smile, that incomplete smile.

"I love you, Arthur....I've loved you for so long, even before WWII. No, before WWI, I've loved you. I don't know when it happened, or why, but I can't stop thinking about you. You drive me insane, Arthur. I can always see your face when I close my eyes and...damn, its hard to express it into words. I never wanted to hurt you so much, Arthur. If anything, I wanted to keep you safe...to keep you happy. You have no idea how much I love you. Its almost like you're the final piece to my puzzle, an irreplaceable piece." Alfred swallowed nervously, seeing that Arthur was very still. "When I found you unconscious, I couldn't even breathe. I was afraid....." He began shaking a bit.

"Y-You kissed me then, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"I had a dream then. You kissed me in the dream...and I was happy. Alfred....you really do love me?"

"Do you think I'd say all this mushy stuff if I didn't?"

"Alfred...I love you too. So much, I can't even describe it."

Alfred let go of Arthur and let the Briton face him. "Then don't. Just show me."

Alfred gently grabbed Arthur and kissed him, letting Arthur express how he felt through his lips. Moments passed by, and the broke away, despite how much they wanted to keep kissing. "Alfred...." Arthur whispered. He embraced he taller nation, unable to fight the blush on his cheeks. "I love you so much, so much!"

"Well," Alfred chuckled. "How about we get you home? Its getting pretty late."

"I'm not a girl, you idiot!"

Alfred smirked before kissing Arthur again, this time chastely. "You're a good kisser, Iggy!" he laughed in his usual way. Arthur turned beet red. "You're not so bad yourself..."

They walked back to Arthur's place, hand in hand.

The final pieces of their puzzles, finally put into place.


Waah! I can't believe there is only one chapter left! An epilogue at the wedding, including all the couples in the story. if you want any other couples, say something quickly! You know how fast i update!

Anyways, this is going to be the first chapter story I have ever completed here. Amazing, isn't it? I want to thank you all for reviewing, because you guys have kept me going!

I'm currently working on a USxUKxFrance angst story, so keep your eyes peeled for that, if you like! My story What Could It Be? won't be updated for a while... I have a bad habit of starting a story then moving onto my new idea for a different story (explaining why i have never finished a chapter fic).

Review please!