Joan- Heather Dale
The air was moist and wet, raindrops resting heavily on thick green leaves, just waiting for the slightest shiver to send them rolling down to the muddy ground. The sky was a dark gray above the treetops, thunder rolling across the clouds.
Standing on a large, thick log darkened with water and brimming with moss, was a thin, pale-skinned man. His eyes were a toxic green, framed with long, dark lashes. He wore robes of pure white, a bow and quiver slung around his back. A silver band came around his head, dipping down to rest in an arrow pointing between his brows, patterned with swirling leaves. Pointed ears were visible through the blonde hair that haloed the soft face.
Through the trees there came a rustling, and a man appeared before the elf. He wore silver armor and chain mail, a sword sheathed against his side, golden hair falling around a handsome face. His eyes were the color of a sunny afternoon sky and he approached the elf slowly, twigs cracking where he stepped.
"I didn't think you were going to come," the man said, stopping at the base of the fallen log. "Thank you."
"Do not thank me, Alfred," the elf looked at the knight coolly. "You bring a message from the kingdom, do you not?"
"Yes, I've brought it." Alfred jumped up to stand next to him on the log. "I wish you were more grateful to see me. I had to break a lot of rules to get this message to you from the king."
"That is not of my concern," the elf held out a slender hand. "The message, please."
Alfred took a rolled up piece of parchment from his belt and placed it in the elf's hand, and then looked at him slowly, eyes soft. "... Arthur..."
Arthur looked up and met Alfred's eyes, hand clenching around the paper. They looked at each other for a moment before meeting each other's lips halfway, arms wrapping around the other's torso. Alfred's hands held onto Arthur's waist gently while the elf's slim fingers brushed through the knight's thick locks of hair, their kiss deepening as they pressed closer together.
"Enough," Arthur broke away, his hands still around the blue-eyed man. "... that is enough."
"It's never enough," Alfred murmured, leaned forward and kissing the elf's neck. "I'm not expected back at the castle until tomorrow... please, stay."
"I cannot," Arthur tilted his head to allow Alfred more skin to kiss. "... Alfred... I have to go... but once I have delivered the message, I will return."
"Promise?"
"Yes... I promise."
Airplanes- The Ready Set (cover)
England sighed as he prepared to enter the hospital room, clutching the carton of ice cream he had brought with him. He didn't know why he was so scared- it was still America. Whatever had happened, it was America, and it always would be. With that thought in mind, England took a deep breath and walked in.
The room was plain, tile floors and boring beige walls. The blinds on the window set in the far wall had been drawn, leaving the room to be lit solely by the color-draining fluorescent lights. In the single bed, attached to plenty of wires and tubes, was America. England's heart throbbed as he saw the dull, detached look in the normally bright and outgoing nation. America didn't even seen to have the strength to sit up properly, pillows stacked behind his back and under his head to keep him upright, and still his head leaned to the side.
"America?" England walked in and closed the door, setting down the carton on a small table that had a vase of flowers on it. "How are you doing?"
America didn't even move, his eyes blankly staring at the wall.
England's throat hurt as he struggled not to cry. He walked over to him and sat at a chair next to the bed. "... America?" he took his hand, avoiding touching the IV, stroking his fingers. "America, please... talk to me..."
America very slowly turned his head in England's direction, his empty eyes barely focusing on him. "... what do you want me to say?" his voice was weak, broken.
"I... I don't know..." England winced. "I just want to know that you're going to be okay..."
"2,977."
"What?"
"That's how many people are dead," America said hoarsely, turning back to stare at the wall. "Dead. Crushed, burned, suffocated... flattened as they jumped. 2, 977..."
England leaned forward, still sitting in the chair, and managed to wrap an arm around the defeated nation, resting his head on his stomach. He stayed quiet, because there were no words he could say, because nothing would help. America would have to find the strength to stand up again on his own, with his people.
England felt small quivers in his hair as America's tears fell onto his head.
I Will Always Return- Bryan Adams
The sunset was beautiful, and looking at the red glow cast over him, Arthur was reminded of another time when the sun had illuminated his pale skin to this orange color, and reflected off the blue eyes of his... his lover? No. No, not lover... yet boyfriend sounded a bit too impersonal. Partner, perhaps? Yes, that would do. His partner.
They had been on Alfred's ranch, sitting together, their backs supported by a dried up log. Earlier that day they had ridden out together into the heat of the day, the sun already coming down from the afternoon sky the exact same color as the American's eyes. Arthur had complained about the intensity of the heat, but now he could see why Alfred had wanted to get a head start; the sun setting over the dry desert canyon in front of them was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.
A dry breeze had picked up, and Arthur had looked over at Alfred. The young man had his cowboy hat pulled down over his head, a piece of wheat between his teeth, moving up and down slowly as he chewed it. A bead of sweat trickled down the bronze skin, and he grinned upon seeing Arthur staring at him. The horses tied to the dried up branch behind them snorted, stomping their feet slightly, their hot, heavy breaths tickling the back of Arthur's head.
"It's nice, ain't it, Artie?" Alfred had asked, looking out onto the canyon.
"Beautiful," Arthur had agreed. "... endless."
"I got lost out there once," Alfred had told Arthur. "I was real small, and Pa had to come out and find me. I was real upset at that point 'cause I had no idea how ta get home. But ya know what Pa said to me? He said, 'I'll always return to you, kid'."
Arthur recalled how amazing Alfred's eyes had looked at that moment when he focused on Arthur's face.
"So I'm just lettin' you know right now that I'm always gonna return to you, Arthur. No matter what."
Arthur, in present time, looked out the airport window at the beautiful red sunset, surrounded by happy families who were excited for the return of a brother or father or son or husband... and here he was. Alone and waiting for someone he already knew wasn't going to come back.
The terminal opened and the soldiers came out. Mothers and wives cried in joy as they embraced their loved ones home from war, the military men allowing themselves to reciprocate, allowing tears to fall from war-hardened eyes.
"You bloody fool," Arthur muttered to the sunset outside the window. "You said you'd always return to me. You promised... and now here I am, at the airport you were supposed to be at, the plane you were supposed to get off... and you're bloody fucking gone."
A hand rested on his shoulder. "Excuse me? I'm lookin' for someone, but I dun think he's here... there are a lot of 'Jones' in the military... I think my letter mighta been mixed up with someone else?"
Arthur looked at the person.
Gleaming afternoon-sky eyes.
"... you... you came back..."
Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?- The Warblers
Yes I do...
Those were the only words Arthur could really think of as he sat in the school gymnasium bleachers, squished into the corner by some goths as everyone cheered and stood and waved their arms in the air. He drew his knees up to his chest, tightly gripping his backpack, eyes big as he peered through the small space between the bars of the railing and the people moving up and down. He could just barely make out the scene happening on the court.
Arthur's school had an awful sports program, but their art programs were renowned- especially the all male acappella group, The Warblers. They were the most popular, most revered boys in the school, and everyone wanted to be in it, all the girls wanting to date them, and they were truly great. Arthur had no interest in joining- he hated singing in front of people and had a truly awful case of stage fright. He only was interested in the current lead singer in the group- Alfred F. Jones.
Alfred was a true heart-throb, and Arthur fell just as hard as all of the girls. He watched him perform, a smile on his lips, those perfect teeth and wonderful blue eyes... he loved his eyes. It was awfully "teenage girl" of him, but he could just imagine them hovering over him, full of love and lust as his muscular body moved over his and... and Arthur was hopeless.
So Arthur just watched as Alfred danced and sang around the gym with his fellow Warblers, stealing the show and his heart for the millionth time.
"If you want my body,
and you think I'm sexy,
come on sugar let me know .
If you really need me,
just reach out and touch me,
come on honey tell me so..."
Yes, yes I do... Arthur sighed.
On stage, Alfred caught the green-eyed Brit's gaze and grinned.
Decidedly, he directed the rest of the song straight to him.
Single Ladies- Beyonce
Alfred's eyes practically popped out of his skull.
What... what the hell was he witnessing here...?
Something very unusual. And strange. And totally bizarre. And utterly out of place.
And completely and amazingly sexy.
So, maybe Alfred wasn't expecting to walk in through his front door and hear the thuds of bass from soul/rap/R&B music coming from his basement. And maybe he certainly wasn't planning on walking down into the basement and have his jaw hit the floor as he saw his very sexy boyfriend grinding against a portable stripper pole...
… Or that same sexy boyfriend to be wearing a police officer outfit...
...except with a mini-skirt...
...and... and what looked like a crop attached to his low-riding belt.
"Hello, love," Arthur smiled at Alfred as he stood there, at the base of the stairs, dumbfounded. "... I've been waiting for you..."
"... is this..." Alfred gulped. "... Beyonce..?"
"Is that the only thing you can think of to say?" Arthur muttered, swinging around the pole, wonderful, pale, amazing, spreadable legs wrapping around it. The mini-skirt rode up and exposed creamy thighs... and made clear that Arthur wasn't wearing any undergarments.
The door to the basement swung shut with the wind Alfred produced dashing across the basement floor.
The Show- Lenka
Arthur didn't mind simple things.
Some people said that those things were 'plain' or 'bland', but Arthur simply felt that they were... well, simple. Easy and uncomplicated things were best, because Arthur just didn't care for big and extravagant things. So, maybe moving to New York wasn't the best idea for someone who liked things simple, but Arthur enjoyed the simple walks in Central Park, the simple meals at cafes, the simple routine of going to work everyday.
Sometimes, though, Arthur would mix things up and do something spontaneous. So today, he stopped to get ice cream from a stand on one of his walks.
He got vanilla- it was his favorite.
And just as Arthur was turning away from his purchase, mouth open to take a lick, somebody bumped into him, sending his ice cream to the ground.
"Oh shit! Dude, I'm so sorry!"
Arthur stared at his ice cream, now melting on the sidewalk.
"Can I buy you another one? I'm really sorry... let me get you another!"
Arthur straightened up and started to glare angrily at the young man whose converse was slightly splattered with white ice cream. "Look here, git, I-"
Double-take. The American was... well, NOT simple. He was gorgeous, and smiling apologetically at Arthur in the most adorable way possible, with beautiful blue eyes behind rectangular glasses. He was everything Arthur would have taken a look at in any other situation and said that he was just 'too much'.
"... I would love that."
"Awesome! I'm Alfred, by the way."
"... Arthur. I mean, my name is Arthur."
"Haha, cool! You're from England, right?"
"Yes..."
"Sweet! I've always wanted to go! Well, can I interest you in Double Chocolate Chunk Extravaganza? It's my favorite, and way better then your vanilla, I promise!"
Arthur smiled lightly. "... alright... I suppose a small change wouldn't hurt."
The Word of Your Body- Spring Awakening the Musical
The classroom was dark, the two lamp posts outside of the window from the parking lot the only dim light filtering in. It was raining outside, the drops of water lighting beating against the glass and sliding down like tears, making a reflection of dripping water on the tile floor inside the dry room. A rumble of thunder rolled across the sky outside, but it wasn't loud enough to drown out the sounds coming from under the teachers desk.
"Mmn... oh God..." A trembling voice sounded out, breathy and soft. "... ah..."
"Nmm... I know..." A deeper voice, a tenor, came as well. "When we look back... years from now... tonight will seem unbelievably... beautiful..."
"And in the meantime...?"
"... Why not?"
There were quiet sound of lips on skin, of shallow breathing and murmured encouragements.
"... aah... o-on my way here this afternoon... I-I thought perhaps... we'd only-nn... talk..."
A pause.
"... so are you sorry we...?"
"No! No... I love you, Alfred... as I-I never loved anyone..."
"... and so you should..."
The sound of lips on lips.
"Mm..."
"... I love you too..."
Song 6- Daniel Powter
"It'll be okay, Artie! We're in the same class."
"My name is Arthur! And I'm fine! I'm not nervous at all."
Alfred didn't believe him. His friend of exactly one month was fidgeting and looking around the school bus wildly, as though some sort of animal was going to jump out and attack him. His hands were clutching his plain red backpack tightly, and he kept fiddling with the collar of his shirt. Alfred was worried for him. This was his first time at an American school ever, and he didn't know anyone except for Alfred and Matthew, and Matthew was in a different class.
It was up to Alfred to be Arthur's hero.
"Hold my hand," Alfred told him as the bus pulled up to the school. "You'll be okay."
"I-I'm not going to hold your bloody hand, git!" Arthur stammered, going red. "That's stupid."
"But this way, we won't get separated in the crowd of students," Alfred pointed to the kids already jumbling around on the sidewalk, heading up to the school. "No one will really notice if we just stand super close!"
Arthur hesitated, then slowly took Alfred's hand, gripping it tightly. Alfred grinned at him and together they left the bus, walking side by side with clasped hands into the elementary school.
Pretty Fly for a White Guy- the Offspring
"Ah, this is embarrassing... but my cat seems to have gotten stuck under your porch."
Hero's ears perked up as he munched on his breakfast and his master talked with the new neighbor who just moved in next door. It was true! There did seem to be a strange scrabbling sound from underneath the porch. He rubbed against Alfred's leg before jumping outside and bouncing down the three stairs, looking under the leafy bushes surrounding the underside of the porch.
Hello...? Hero meowed, padding up to a rosemary bush and sniffing at it. Strange, foreign cat? I hear you need a hero!
I have a name, you ignoramus! An indignant shriek came from a few rows down. I don't need any help! Go away!
I cannot! Hero ran over to the source of the cry and found a short ginger tail poking out from under the porch. You see, this is my house! And you seem to be stuck!
A pause.
I was not aware that another cat lived here. I'm sorry for trespassing.
It's fine! Hero said, sitting next to the white and ginger hindquarters lodged under his porch. You were probably distracted by something shiny! It happens to me all the time.
I was not! Came the muffled reply. My master's watch fell under here while he was moving in yesterday and I am attempting to retrieve it!
Oh! That makes sense! Have you got it?
… Yes.
Then I'll help you out!
Wait, what?!
Hero took a deep breath before biting down on the cat's tail firmly, getting a mouthful of fur as he did so.
OW! Bloody fool! Impotent animal! Unhand me!
Hero ignored him and yanked as hard as he could, feeling the cat slide a few centimeters back and grunting in satisfaction.
You are tearing off my pelt!
I've almost got ya!
With a huge tug, Hero pulled the cat free, flinging both of them backwards out of the bushes and tumbling through the grass in a heap of fur and paws and whiskers. After shaking his head a few times to clear it, he sat up and looked around. Hey, where are you?
YOU ARE SITTING ON ME.
Whoops! Sorry!
Hero jumped off the cat and got a good look at him. He was small by normal cat standards, even smaller when compared to a huge cat like Hero. His face was flatter and less narrow, with a round muzzle and very attractive long whiskers. Oddly enough, his ears were small and folded at the top, giving him a rather adorable look, and his big, kitten-like eyes had large pupils and were a bright green. His pelt was a soft white and had ginger spots dotting all over him.
Wow! Hero exclaimed, leaping forward to sniff eagerly at him. You're so strange-looking! What kind of cat are you? I love your eyes! And your ears! Aww, and you have such a cute, fluffy tail!
Get away from me! The strange cat snapped, licking his pelt in an annoyed manner. I happen to be a purebred Scottish Fold, thank you very much! And what do you call yourself, huh? Some sort of mixed breed, I'm sure!
I have no idea what kind of cat I am! Hero said brightly, waving his long black tail and flicking a white ear. But I'm the biggest in my litter! My name is Hero! What's yours?
Of course you'd have a silly name too... The cat licked a small paw and drew it over his face, glaring at Hero reproachfully. My name is Crumpet.
What's a crumpet? Hero asked, licking his own black chest fur to get rid of the dirt. And I like my name!
A crumpet is a type of bread that gentlemen eat, Crumpet said haughtily. Like your American doughnuts, but healthier and much more refined.
That's cool! Hero stood up on all fours again and pointed his nose back at the front porch. Your master is here, by the way! We should tell him that you're alright.
My m-master? Crumpet deflated slightly. Oh dear... he was probably worried sick about me.
Most likely! Hero agreed cheerfully and bounded along next to the other cat as he walked dejectedly towards the house again.
"... yes, just over here- Crumpet!" Arthur and Alfred were walking around the side of the house, the first running over to his cat, whom jumped eagerly into his arms. "Silly boy... honestly. What were thinking, behaving like a kitten like that?"
I'm sorry! Crumpet nuzzled into Arthur's shoulder. I was only trying to help! It was all the fat cat's fault!
And Hero knew that this was the beginning of a beautiful friendship all around.
Love It When You Call- The Feeling
Matthew sighed.
It had been a long morning... Francis had woken him up with a scream, and then locked himself in the bathroom. Matthew found (after banging on the bathroom door for ten minutes) that Francis had developed a pimple overnight. About the size of a GERM, it was the only blemish on the Frenchman's face and could only be seen if you squinted and looked really, really close. But, Francis was Francis, and Matthew told him that he'd call Alfred for a possible solution. After all, Alfred bought all sorts of stuff he saw on television ads, and with all the skin-cleansing commercials America had, he was sure he had something.
Matthew petted Francis' hair as the phone rang a few times, the Frenchman cuddling up to him in gratitude for his compliance.
"What?"
Matthew blinked at the annoyed tone of Alfred's voice. "Alfred?"
"Oh, Mattie! Hey, now isn't really a good time..."
"Oh, I can call back..." Matthew trailed off as he saw Francis' pleading look. "Actually, I really need something, it'll only take a few seconds and you just have to listen."
"... It's like, eleven at night over here, bro. Can't this w-wait...?"
"Alfred?" Matthew heard only silence after his brother stopped talking. "Hello?"
There was a scuffle on the other line and Matthew exchanged a look with Francis.
"What are you doing?" A different voice, one that Matthew knew but couldn't place, was talking in a low sort of voice. '"Who's on the line?"
"S'Mattie..." Alfred sounded breathless. "I'm gonna hang up, though..."
"No, take your time," the voice was teasing and Matthew heard the unmistakable sound of clothes hitting the floor. "I'll just wait over here... by myself..."
Ah. Francis made a choking noise and Matthew remembered the voice... Arthur.
"I'll call you back, Matt," Alfred said quickly into the phone. "Gotta go."
"Al-"
"Look, Mattie, Arthur got back from England two freaking days ago and we've been under constant surveillance from my boss, and I haven't so much as touched him for a goddamn month, so I will talk to you later!"
The phone crackled.
"Well..." Matthew began. "That was a bit of a bust..."
"... well, that was quick, poppet."
Matthew squeaked as he realized Alfred hadn't hung up the phone and made to hit the end button, but only succeeded in turning up the volume and his fumbling caused him to drop the phone.
"Yeah, I'm just cool like that."
"Are you just going to stand there?"
"Like hell, babe."
There was a dual muffled sound of creaking bed springs as Matthew lunged for the phone.
"Mmm... I missed you..."
"As I missed you, love... ahh..."
"Turn it off, Matthew!" Francis cried out, eyes wide in horror. "My ears are bleeding!"
"Mnh... oh, Alfred..."
"Hah... feel good?"
"Yes... don't stop... ngh..."
Matthew grabbed the phone and hurriedly tried to end the call, paling. Aw man. He was listening to his brother getting it on with Arthur...
"Nnn... you have the- hnh!- supplies...?"
"Like I'd forget and have to leave to get them half-way through? Not a chance..."
"Mmm, you thought of everyt- ahh! Oh, poppet... yes...!"
"God, you make the sexiest noises... you like that, do you?"
"Alfred... Alfred, more..."
"If I keep going, you're gonna cum before we get to the good part..."
"... then get to the bloody good part already... Ngh! Al!"
BEEP.
Matthew turned off the phone as he found the 'end call' button.
He exchanged a glance with Francis and both silently swore to never speak of the experience again.
Joan- Arthur is an elf and Alfred is a knight, and they're in love, but not allowed to be together.
Airplanes- After 9/11, America doesn't know how to cope, not even with England's support.
I Will Always Return- Alfred goes to war and Arthur goes to the airport on the day he was supposed to come back, but doesnt... or does he? :3
Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?- Arthur has a crush on the lead singer of the school's popular singing group, "The Warblers"... and it seems Alfred does too.
Single Ladies- Alfred comes home from work to recieve a little surprise from Arthur... :D
The Show- Arthur likes simple things, but then Alfred comes and turns things upside down.
The Word of Your Body- Alfred and Arthur are college students who meet up in an abandoned classroom to talk... but things get a bit intimate.
Song 6- It's Arthur's first day at an American school, and Alfred's gonna help him out! :)
Pretty Fly for a White Guy- It seems that Hero must rescue the neighboring cat, Crumpet, from under the porch.
Love it When You Call- Matthew calls Alfred to see if he has any medicine for Francis' zit, but ends up hearing some things he wishes he didn't have to hear his brother say.