Two days had passed since Arthur had arrived in the future with America. And in those two days, England had not left. He kept making excuses. Arthur knew why, of course. He was trying to get to the bottom of their relationship. But it was annoying. He hadn't realized that his older self was so…stubborn. He wasn't even looking at America twice in that way. It pissed him off. America was right there and England would do nothing. Arthur was determined to change that.

The third night of being in the future, Arthur lay with America in the man's bedroom getting ready to sleep. America was curled up against Arthur's chest, his arms around his waist. Arthur had to move his head a bit so that Nantucket wouldn't brush his nose. They were silent for a long period of time. Only the sounds of the cars down on the streets below could be heard. But then America broke the silence.

"Hey Artie?" He whispered. Arthur grunted. He was partially asleep. America lifted his head to gaze at him. "England knows about us, doesn't he?"

Arthur's eyes started open. He looked at him. "When did you finally realize?"

"Yesterday. He's acting weird and trying to keep us away from each other." America sighed. Arthur sensed it wasn't so much out of exasperation as it was sadness. Arthur touched America's cheek, grabbing the man's attention.

"America, I'll make sure he falls in love with you." He promised. He pressed his forehead to his. "I won't leave until I know you won't be left alone." He whispered.

America laughed softly. "I'm never alone, Artie. Stop over-exaggerating."

"I'm not and you know it." Arthur stroked America's cheek and kissed him gently. America wouldn't admit it, but Arthur knew anyhow. The man was lonely. The one person he loved hated him. Arthur couldn't bear the thought of leaving if it meant his America would be sad. He closed his eyes. It somehow hurt him for to think of the other England having his America, but he forced the thought from his head. After all, he would somehow grow into that England. He didn't understand how he would grow to hate America like this England did, but at least he would ensure that the two would get together.

And that was all that he could really hope for.

The next morning Arthur woke up to leave America's embrace. The man was still fast asleep but Arthur was ready to wake up. He was used to waking up at this time. He dressed in some of America's smaller clothes and decided that he needed to get his own size before he left the room. England was already awake and the smell of breakfast cooking caught his attention. He looked over at the older nation.

"…Are you cooking for only yourself?" He asked, approaching him. He realized –knowing himself- that if he was ever going to convince his older self he would have to be pleasant.

England looked over at him and frowned. "Yes." He replied.

"Funny. I would have cooked for America."

"Yes, well he's your bloody boyfriend, now isn't he?" England snapped at him, glaring. Arthur bit back the retort he wanted to throw at him.

"I was referring to the fact that I cooked for America when he was a child."

England paused. "…So?"

"When did you start cooking only for yourself?" Arthur asked quietly.

"…When America left me." England replied, turning back to his food. It was turning brown.

"He's here now." Arthur murmured. "He's right in the bedroom. Why don't you cook for him now?"

"He hates my food anyway, so what does it matter!" England snapped. "All he'll do is complain!" Arthur frowned. Since when did America dislike his food? He recalled the child loving it.

"It's the thought that counts!" Arthur snapped back, annoyed.

"Just leave me the bloody fuck alone! He's your boyfriend so you cook for him!"

"Well if he's my boyfriend then he is yours as well!"

England froze and turned to face him, shocked. It was as if England had considered him and Arthur to be two different people. How ridiculous. "He's…not my boyfriend." England stated slowly.

"He is. You're my future. He's your future."

"You're wrong."

"I demand you tell me in what way I am incorrect." Arthur challenged, glaring. England didn't respond. He just continued to stare at him. That is until the food began to burn, causing England to curse and go back to it. Arthur didn't move from his spot, still waiting for a response when America entered the room.

"Oh my fuck, who let you into the kitchen!" He yelled and ran into the kitchen to snatch the pan with the burnt food and move it to the sink before it could catch fire. "You're going to burn the apartment down!"

England turned red. "I-I AM NOT! I was only distracted and so it burnt-"

"Dude, never cook in my kitchens! I'll do all the cooking! After all, nobody wants to eat your food anyway."

"Nobody wants to eat your grease either!"

America dumped the 'food' down into the trashcan and began cleaning the pan. "You love my cooking! You know that I'm a good cook but you never want to eat it!"

"I find your food disgusting." England scowled. America grinned at him.

"Then why do you like McDonald's so much?"

"I-I don't!"

Arthur watched the back and forth exchange between the two in a slight daze. It was strange. He felt as if he was watching from an outside perspective of him and America. The two went from bickering to playing with each other to bickering again. America would tease England and England would blush slightly and become defensive in a cute way before he said something to offend America to the point that the bickering started up again and the process repeated. It was such a simple process of talking.

And then Arthur realized that they were flirting. He could see it. He saw the twinkle of mischief in Alfred's eyes as he teased the elder nation before England would blush. But the look in his eyes told him that he enjoyed the banter. This was how his future self and America communicated, Arthur realized. It was painful to him. It was so obvious of the emotion there. If he hadn't known better, he would've said that England and America was an old married couple (not that men could get married, of course, unless it was different in this time period). How could England not see it? How could England not want it? England obviously had feelings for America. All Arthur needed to do was drag them into the open.

He smirked. Jealousy is always the way to inflame a man's heart.

"America." Arthur called later on in the evening. America was eating a gallon of ice cream on the couch while he was watching the box with people in it called 'television'. Arthur, like England, just called it the tellie, though. It was easier to remember. England was sitting in a reading chair reading over some notes from the last meeting in his country. Even though he was at America's (he kept telling the host nation that he was merely there because his boss had wanted him to come, not that he wanted to spend time with America and keep an eye on Arthur) he was still doing his work.

America didn't look up. "Yeah?"

Arthur sat down on the couch next to America and watched as he spooned some more ice cream into his mouth. "May I try?" He asked.

America paused and Arthur noticed England's head lift a little to subtly watch them. Good. That was just what he'd wanted. "Sure." America said and dug out a scoop. Arthur opened his mouth and America fed him the cold food. Arthur shivered in delight. It was rather sweet for his taste but it was still delicious. Still, he knew he couldn't have too much of it. It would upset his stomach. Nonetheless as America pulled spoon out he grabbed the nation's hand and licked the spoon clean slowly, using a show of him mouth and tongue. Arthur saw America's eyes widen and the flicker of lust that appeared in them. He also spotted a tensing of England's shoulders.

Finally Arthur released the nation and licked his lips. "A bit too sweet." He commented.

"Y-Yeah well, that's ice cream." America tried to keep his voice steady but it was clear in his voice that he had been aroused by the display. Arthur looked directly at England and saw the man trying to ignore them. Arthur frowned. He had to push it a step further.

"I suppose so. America," Arthur brushed America's fringe out of his face gently and smiled at him softly. "You have ice cream in your hair." He pretended to pull ice cream from America's hair and licked his finger to clean it. America visibly gulped. England was now directly looking at them, fire of anger in his eyes. Arthur thanked whatever god there was above that America still responded like a young man. It made his plan go a lot smoother. England was becoming jealous. Poor fool doesn't even realize he loves America. Arthur pitied his older self. If Arthur knew of his own flaw to let old grudges stand in the way of his emotions and better judgment than surely England did as well. It was a shame he didn't remember.

"Thanks, Artie." His voice was slightly lower. Arthur noticed only because he had heard America's 'sex voice' before. A stir ran through Arthur's loins. England must have somehow heard it as well. Arthur heard the crunch of paper being crumpled in a tight grip.

"I want a kiss." He murmured to America and moved the bucket of ice cream before climbing onto America's lap. He cupped Alfred's cheek and tilted his head to lean forward to kiss him.

"What are you doing?" America whispered and Arthur knew he was caught. He bit back a chuckle.

"Just trust me, love." He murmured back and kissed him. America did just that (or he just wanted to kiss him but either way-) and wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist as he returned the force of the kiss. Arthur could feel the slight hardness under against his leg where he was kneeling over America, his one knee tucked against the nation's lower regions. He grinded his knee against it a bit and America gasped faintly, arching some against. Arthur continued to grind his knee in slow but hard circles against America's crotch as their mouths battled heatedly and fast to see who would top in this round. America's hand ran into Arthur's hair to grip it as he hummed in appreciation. Arthur was about to respond to such treatment when he heard the snap of a book.

"That's enough!" America and Arthur pulled away from each other to see England seething in fury. His face was red and his clenched fists trembled with rage. "Do not do such…vulgar things in front of me! What kind of host are you, America!"

America didn't respond so Arthur opened his mouth. "It is America's house to do with how he pleases. Being that we are lovers, we are allowed to act in such a manner. And considering our current circumstances, you are his lover as well and not a guest. And so we can do this if we like and not be rude." Arthur smirked challengingly and pressed his face to America's a little as England froze. "There's no need for you to become so upset~"

"I am not his lover! I refuse for you to think of me in such a way! There is a bedroom for you to do your disgusting deeds in so just go there!" England yelled.

Arthur glanced at America and the man looked at him. "Shall we continue, then?" He rolled his leg against America again and the man panted softly. "You're still quite hard. I couldn't leave you in such a condition…"

America nodded once. "Yeah…" He murmured breathlessly, shocking England. "Bedroom." Arthur climbed off of America and the younger nation rushed to the bedroom. Arthur took his sweet time walking there and paused in front of England.

"If you wanted to, you could replace me. You could go in there right now in my place." He teased. England only glared at him and so Arthur shrugged. "Your loss, then. He's ever such a good fuck." With that he entered the bedroom to find America waiting for him.

Once again, England didn't fall asleep easily that night.

A/N: Holy shit, sorry that I'm so super late on this. My muse completely left me and I had no idea what I wanted to do for the longest time. So so so so so so so sorry! I'll try to work on it more! I hope this was okay! I'll work on Brother Complex and then come back to this, I promise! I didn't give up on my stories, I swear!

But god it's so short...OTL

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