Netherlands

The sign said: Smoking Forbidden

Arthur sighed inwardly as he tuned out and ignored the other speaker. His phone in hand, he could hear his boss yell at him but the personification of England had already had enough. He just ignored the ranting and waited until the British Prime Minister ran out of breath and complaints.

"DO YOU REALISE HOW MUCH MONEY YOU ALL WASTED? GET YOUR SIBLINGS UNDER SUPERVISION! I WILL NOT TOLERATE ANYMORE DESTRUCTION! YOU'VE DESTROYED THE ENTIRE BUILDING AND SENT OTHER COUNTRIES TO HOSPITAL! NOW AN ENTIRE HOSPITAL HAS BECOME THOSE NATIONS' HOTEL! DO YOU REALISE WHAT YOU'VE DONE?"

Arthur pulled the phone away from his ear. Nope, he's not done yet. Let's wait another five minutes.

Another five minutes later …

"ARTHUR! ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?"

Okay, now he's done.

"Yes, David, I am listening. I already apologised for our conduct but …"

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR FUCKING APPOLOGY! JUST GET THAT FUCKING MEETING OVER AND DONE WITH WITHOUT ANY OTHER INCIDENT! I'VE BEEN RECEIVING CALLS FROM OTHER STATE LEADERS SINCE YESTERDAY EVENING AND IT HASN'T STOP FOR EVEN ONE SECOND!"

"And I am very sorry about this but I assure you that those nations will be out of hospital in a few days without any trouble."

"I KNOW! THAT'S NOT THE BLOODY POINT! I KNOW HOW YOU GUYS WORK! WHAT I'M FUCKING MAD ABOUT IS THAT YOU POTENTIALLY THREATENED HALF OF THE WORLD AND ALMOST THE ENTIRE EUROPE! WE'RE HAVING A DIPLOMATIC CRISIS HERE BECAUSE OF YOU! JUST WHAT WERE YOU ALL THINKING?"

"It was just a little argument …"

"A LITTLE ARGUMENT THAT MADE AN ENTIRE OFFICIAL BUILDING COLLAPSE?"

"Well … yes."

"THAT'S ENOUGH! DON'T PLAY SMART WITH ME! I WILL NOT TOLERATE THIS BEHAVIOUR OR ANY MORE MISTAKES! I WANT YOU TO SORT OUT THIS SHITE IMMEDIATELY! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"Crystal clear, David."

"THEN MAKE IT HAPPEN!"

And with that, he hung up.

Arthur sighed. Really, he should have known better than let his siblings accompany him to an official world meeting. It went alright at first … Arthur actually wonders how this whole thing turned out in such a mess. Now, not only was the conference interrupted but also he would have to pay for the medical care for most nations present. Oh bloody great. That and the building that has turned into historical ruins. And overall, he needs to … apologise to each of those countries … individually. Thus avoiding any political rebound or tensions. Just perfect! The meeting would have been over in just two more days but now, it'll last at least another week and a half! All thanks to … talk of the devil!

Arthur glared at the three pairs of green eyes watching him from behind an open door.

"He's not happy at all." The blond stated plainly as he walked past his siblings and into the kitchen for a cup of tea. He definitely needed one to calm his nerves down. Scotland smiled apologetically, North wore a guilty, miserable puppy face and Wales simply had his usual, lazy, daydreaming face.

"We're sorry, lad! We did apologise, didnea we?"

"Yes, Scott. I know you did but you should all know better than to lose control like that! Now, we'll have to go and apologise to all those bastards!"

"We do? Can'na we jist apologise a' tha meetin' when they come out o' hospital?"

"Apparently not. Her majesty called."

"She angry?" Fiona asked in concern.

"A bit about breaking the building. Mostly, she found it hilarious once I told her what had happen. But she said we had to go and apologise to everyone in person."

"Bugger." Scott cursed.

They all were very fond of their Queen so they couldn't refuse her anything. They tended to respect the Queen more, much more than the Prime Minister. They often didn't take their boss seriously.

Arthur poured the boiling water into four cups and placed four different tea bags in each cup. He knew his siblings tastes as well as his own. Then, after adding either sugar or milk to the cups, he handed them to the rest of the UK. They all drank in silence. They were all acting like sulking children having being scolded by their mother for getting into a fight. And now, they had to apologise!

"… Get Ireland and meet me at the hospital." England decided as he finished his cup and walked out of the house.

"Aye, see ye later boyo!" Scott nodded, holding Fiona back.

She wanted to go with Arthur but the blond obviously wanted to spend some time alone to calm himself down … and not risking to kill his siblings. Needless to say that he was really pissed at them! After he had come back from clearing his mind, he was hoping the meeting to be over and everyone to have stopped fighting. Or at least, he expected his brothers to have knocked everyone out without causing too much damage. He was not happy to see rumbles where the building was previously standing. Not happy at all.

Arthur sighs as he gets off his bike (yes, he has a motorbike and he tends to use it when he doesn't want his siblings or other nations around) and walked inside the hospital. It had been rented by the government to treat solely the injured nations of the world for the next few days until they recover. Obviously, most of them would have died in the little accident caused by the British brothers but because of their nature, everyone survived but got seriously injured. Some more than others and with injuries that would still take a few days to heal with treatment. Being a country doesn't mean being invulnerable.

Arthur walked into a few rooms, apologised to each of the patients. He was very straight forward and tried to make it as quick as possible. If there is one thing he hates, it's to apologise for the mess caused by his siblings. But it must be done. He dreaded the moment when he would have to apologise to France. Dark thoughts about France in mind, Arthur walked into the next room. His mind was still cursing his historical rival until a voice brought him back to reality.

"France won't die simply by wishing it, you know."

Arthur snapped from his daydream and looked up. He cursed inwardly. He may hate apologising to France but apologising to that man was not far behind in the I-would-rather-die-than-apologise list of people in Arthur's mind. The Englishman stiffed as he faced the other man with spiky, ash blond hair, sitting calmly in a chair by the open window.

"Good day, Netherlands. I hope you were well taken care of and I apologise for the trouble that my siblings have caused you."

Netherlands didn't reply and simply blew out a cloud of smoke, his pipe dangling in his hand. His hard grey eyes kept watching England with an unreadable iron stare. He could have looked scary, in fact he often did, especially with his scar near his right eye. But Arthur knew this man to be quite harmless and mostly neutral concerning many things. Netherlands doesn't get involved and often keeps to himself, that's why nobody knew what went one in his head. His stoic expression never changed and at most he would show a frowning face when anywhere near Spain. Honestly, Arthur didn't hate the man … but he didn't like him either. He reminded him too much of Wales or sometimes himself. An unreadable mind and face. But what he hated most, was the arrogance of Netherlands whenever he deigned talking to other people. Even Arthur wasn't as disdainful as him!

"What?" The blond sighed. He knew from the other's look that he had something on his mind and was considering whether to speak up or not.

Netherlands drew another breath of smoke from his pipe with his eyes never leaving Arthur.

"That's all you came to say?"

"What else?" Arthur frowned.

"… I see."

They both stayed silent until Arthur couldn't take it anymore. He walked up to the man, his green eyes glaring furiously at him.

"No smoking in hospital." His voice was firm and imposing.

Arthur was already very pissed and his day has been going from bad to worse with each passing second so he was not in the mood to argue. In fact, he needed something to vent his anger, and Netherlands just became his new victim. The frog was next.

Netherlands watched him before smirking and blew smoke in the Briton's face. Arthur coughed and cursed, his eyes watering.

"What the fuck … Do you want me to beat the crap at out of you?"

"No. But you looked tensed. Loosen up a little, Arthur."

"Shut up! Why the fuck do you think I'm tensed anyway? I have to go and apologise to all of you wankers, one by one, for the mess caused by my bleeding brothers which I am going to kill by the way, once I get back home!"

"… Apologise? You?"

Arthur could hear the mockery in the other's voice and it only pissed him off even more.

"Yes. I was forced to by my Queen. Now that that's done, I'll be leaving!" He replied acidly.

"Oh, I see. That's what you were thinking when you thought of France." Netherlands mused while adjusting his scarf absent-mindedly.

"Uh? What's the frog got to do with this?"

"You were thinking of him when you came in."

"How do you know?"

"You always get that look on your face when you think of murdering France."

Arthur stared at the smoking man, speechless. He had always thought to keep a straight face, no matter what murderous thought crossed his mind. How did Holland know …?

"Don't worry. It's not like anyone else would notice though. I just have good observation." Netherlands answered England's silent question dismissively. Arthur frowned, becoming more suspicious by the second.

"And how come you seem to be able to read me like an open book, Timothee?"

"… I have good observation."

"Uh huh … And why exactly, would you bother observing me? Or, more to the point, what are you looking for in your observation of me?" Arthur's glare turned into curiosity as he leaned forward and closer to the other man.

Timothee Koning's eyes widened slightly and he averted his stare towards the window. Arthur noticed the change and smirked. He was very curious and excited as to what the Netherlander was hiding. Arthur has always been curious by nature and when something sparks his attention, he won't let it go easily.

"Well?"

After a few minutes of no-answer, Arthur let out a small chuckle and walked away.

"Whatever! I just came to apologise because I had to. It wasn't by choice. Anyway, I'll leave you to your observation since it seems to be the only thing you do. Oh and please refrain from smoking! I don't care if your window is open. You do not smoke in hospitals!" Arthur scolded the taller man as he reached for the handle of the door.

He turned away and didn't see Tim watching him in a side-glance. Before he could open the door, a larger hand fell on top of his, and Arthur could smell the distinct scent of tobacco. He rolled his eyes, about to turn around and argue. He knew Netherlands could act on whims quite often. What did he want now?

"Wait." He heard Tim whisper.

It was unusual to hear the stoic Holland show any sign of emotion besides when talking to his sister Belgium or his anger towards Spain. But Arthur heard the chocked voice in which Tim seemed to have almost begged for him. The Englishman frowned. He had never heard Netherlands speak like that before. It was disturbing and almost scary in a worrying way.

"Tim? What's wrong?" England's voice was not as harsh as before and was now softer with a hint of confusion in it.

Netherlands' hand tighten its grip over England's. For a couple of minutes, Arthur waited but nothing came. Losing patience, the English nation turned around to face the taller one, and his eyes widened slightly at Netherlands' expression. The taller nation had dropped his pipe on the floor, he was leaning over England, his body tensed as if it were refraining something. His face was the biggest change: He wasn't firm and stoic anymore. He looked worried and angry. Very angry. His iron eyes were blazing in an unusual fire and he kept gritting his teeth like he wanted to speak but couldn't find the strength to do so. His body shivered when he crossed eyes with England and Arthur noticed how he immediately averted his gaze, determined not to meet his own emerald orbs.

"Timothee, answer me." It was a firm order and Arthur knew that would be the only way for him to get any answer at all. Timothee clenched his fist, his stare focused on the ground.

"… It's nothing." He sighed, slowly releasing England's hand.

Before Arthur could argue, he felt his lips being taken by Tim's. The blonde's eyes widened in confusion. Italy was one thing but Netherlands? The taller man blocked Arthur on both sides by placing his hands against the door on either side of the island nation. He leaned in further and deepened his kiss. It took a few seconds for Arthur to register but when he did, he pushed/punched Tim away, both breathing heavily.

"What the fuck …?" Arthur mumbled out of breath, eyes glaring at the other.

Tim shrugged, adjusting his scarf and positively avoiding eye contact with the angry England. Of course, he couldn't tell Arthur that he felt jealous and angry. That would be ridiculous. But how else could he explain his behaviour just now? It couldn't be passed as an accident and they were both perfectly sober. All he could do now is pretend this never happened. Why did he do it anyway? He was only going to let England leave and then … then something snapped. If only he could go back in time and change this! Netherlands knew from England's glare that he would not get away with this without a satisfying explanation.

"Netherlands. Please explain to me your behaviour before the urge of killing you right this instant over-powers me. You have ten seconds, starting now." England's voice was cold and leaking of murderous intents. Oh dear … he really was mad, wasn't he?

Netherlands sighs and starts counting seconds in his head. 1 … 2 … 3 … 4 … … He really should just answer now. But would England accept this? Would he be able to accept his explanation? 7 … 8 … 9 … … Netherlands' gaze dropped back on the smaller man in front of him and met his emerald glare. God, he had such gorgeous eyes!

"I don't know." His voice didn't crack as he spoke.

England raised an eyebrow sceptically. Of course he wouldn't be satisfied with that. Especially after what happened at the meeting. Just thinking of the meeting made Tim's blood boil in rage. He clenched his fist and proceeded to explain.

"I … … I like your eyes."

"What?" England chocked, his emerald eyes wide in astonishment.

Ok, not so well on the explaining part yet. Netherlands fidgeted nervously and it looked incredibly comical to see the Netherlands fidgeting like teenage girl confessing to her long time crush. Very comical. And Arthur would be laughing his lungs out if the 'crush' wasn't him.

"What on bloody earth are you …"

"And your hair. I like how they shine under the sun like pure gold. I like your cream skin. It's not pale white like the Nordics but it's not tanned like Spain or the other Mediterranean nations. I like your hands, how they seem so thin and delicate but have strength beyond belief. But I like your face the most. Your stoic face, similar to mine, I've looked at it for so long … I can tell every time you're angry, happy, sad, mocking, depressed, excited … I like watching the small changes in your face. The twitches of your eyebrows, the cornered smiles, the faint blush on your cheeks, all of it. I like your irony and your attitude. I think you should be less reserved but, I still like that. I like the way keep telling people off or when you just ignore them or how you care for others. I like your voice and I like the sound of your accent. I could stare at you and listen to you for ages without getting bored and it still wouldn't be enough! You asked me why I observe you? What there is to observe? Everything. Everything about you, I want to see. I want to know all about you. I like observing you, Arthur."

Arthur blinked once … twice … three times … Did he hear right? He could stop staring agape at the nervous man before him. Timothee kept shifting his eyes everywhere except towards England, his ears where crimson red to the point where they looked covered in paint. A pinkish blush covered his cheeks and he kept twisting his fingers nervously. Is that really Netherlands?

"… Wha …?" Arthur mouthed, his voice barely audible.

"I … I didn't plan on kissing but I felt angry and … I really, really like you, Arthur. I've liked you since the 17th century. I felt really angry because of yesterday and … I just … I'm not satisfied with just observing anymore. I want more … I want so much … more." Tim whispered the last words as he leaned in closer, pecking Arthur's lips gently.

His hands moved around the Briton, holding him against the door. Tim's grey eyes glanced hesitantly and cautiously towards the other and he saw Arthur's face turning redder by the seconds. The smaller blond kept opening and closing his mouth like a fish, trying to speak but unable to make a sound. Tim smirked and started to trail kisses and licks down the other's neck. He undid the first few buttons of Arthur's shirt, hungrily working his way downwards. Arthur tasted so sweet … How he had wanted to do this, Timothee couldn't remember the last time he had felt this happy and excited. He already felt his own arousal becoming painful.

"Stop … Let go … now." Arthur breathed out.

The English nation tried moving but was firmly pinned to the door. It was already too late. Tim had lost all self-control. Even if he wanted to, he felt unable to stop … or maybe he wanted this too much to be able to stop? Whatever the reason, he didn't stop.

"Sorry …" He whispered while pressing himself closer to Arthur.

He knew that his actions were making Arthur hard too. Maybe he was being unfair but right now, Tim had no regrets or second thoughts about what he was doing. He wanted this. He had wanted this for so long. He wanted Arthur. He wanted more than just to be able to look at him. He wanted to feel him, to touch him, to … to love him. Unfair? Yes, it was unfair. But love isn't fair.

He inhaled deeply and smiled. Saltiness, fresh forest and mint. He was half expecting tea but even if Arthur's scent had been tea, it would have been just as perfect.

"You … smell like mint."

"… You smell like smoke. Let me go … now!" Arthur hissed back, refraining a moan as Tim's hand rubbed against his crotch.

"… I'm sorry Arthur … I'm not addicted to tobacco, you know."

"Really? Could have fooled me!" Arthur's voice kept hissing, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"But I am addicted … I'm addicted to you. I really … really love you."

"… Oh so it's all fine then! Now I'm going to delightedly let you rape me, is that it?"

"… Please Arthur … I can't … I've been holding back so badly … you have no idea how much it hurts."

"What if I don't fucking care!"

Suddenly, Tim pulled Arthur from the door and pushed him on the nearby, hospital bed. Arthur breathed a bit more calmly but couldn't catch his breath for long since he soon felt his mouth taken hostage.

"… And you taste like tobacco too, bastard."

Tim chuckled, holding the other down by the wrist, his larger body immobilising the smaller one beneath him. The smell of tobacco invaded the room as the abandoned pipe let a small trail of smoke rise next to the bed. Arthur clenched his fists and gritted between his teeth.

"At least, get rid of that pipe! You do NOT smoke in hospitals!"

"… It helps me. Smoking helps me keep calm. When I dropped it, I lost all control. I'm sorry Arthur but you're just too much."

"Bloody hell! Let go! No! Wait!"

"… I'm can't … I've already waited for too long. If I wait longer, you'll be taken."

"Wait! What? If this is about the meeting and Italy …"

Tim's face turned murderous instantly at the sound of Italy's name. Arthur felt a sudden fear as he saw the drastic change in the man's features. He had never seen such an angry Netherlands.

"Do. Not. Mention. It. Again."

Out of reflex, Arthur almost nodded but held back and gulped down. He suddenly felt seriously threatened by the other in more than one way.

"… Let me go." He whispered.

"No."

The door collapsed to the floor, ripped off the wall.

The two nations in bed turned to see a vision of Hell. Arthur sighed in relief and Tim seemed to suddenly realise what he was doing and what he was now going to face. Standing still in the door way was a crimson red headed demon with emerald eyes glaring with insanity. Scotland coldly looked down at his brother, shirt open, being pinned down to the bed and some tobacco addicted country hovering above him. The new comer slowly picked up the abandoned pipe and examined it quietly. His glare … if you could call that a glare … then shifted towards the Netherlander.

"Smoking isn't allowed within this building."

The pipe snapped in two and Scott's emeralds met Arthur's. The blond tried to free himself but, still Netherland was still holding him down.

"Drop it now." Scott hissed threateningly.

He must have been very threatening since only few things would scare Netherlands. Immediately Arthur felt the other's weight shift and let him move. He didn't need to be told twice and quickly got off the bed, buttoning up his shirt in a hurry. He felt his older brother pull him away from Netherlands. Scotland was so tensed that England could see the veins of his body almost bursting out. He was still majorly furious against Netherlands for tricking him but he didn't want Scotland to kill anyone and break down the hospital … like at the meeting. Arthur placed a calming hand over his brother's shoulder.

"I'm fine." He whispered.

The other nodded, eyes still locked on his next victim.

"The sign said no smoking." Scotland continued, uninterrupted.

Both England and Netherlands frowned in confusion. What did he mean?

"If I see you break the rule again … I'll break you."

Netherlands nodded submissively as he felt the overwhelming aura of Scotland. He glanced at England, he gaze softened slightly, filled with lust and regret. A low growl from Scotland reminded him of the rules: Smoking Forbidden. He would have to postpone his addiction for little longer.

Netherlands sighed after the two brothers had left the room. He picked up his broken pipe and threw in in the nearby bin. He'll need a new one. Otherwise, he might lose control again and there won't be a second chance. He'll need permission to smoke next time. But will he get it? If only.