Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
Note: I would be using their character names, mostly. This is an AU fic—a very AU one. Also, I would like to apologize early for any out of character behaviour and/or poor plotting.
..
The smaller man has not move an inch, nor has he been stirred awake.
--
The unfamiliar warmth in his chest was the first thing Arthur felt as he woke up from his sleep; he didn't bother to see who it was, but he knew that he was hugging someone. The person hasn't woken up yet, so he'll let the other continue to dream. The Englishman doesn't mind being in his position—it's kind of nice, anyways.
He wants to sleep again. With him already being comfortable with whoever he's embracing, Arthur wants to close his eyes and drift off to the unconscious state he wishes to be in again. He wants to do these things, but he's found himself nuzzling the crook of the other's neck.
A romanticist at heart, is he not?
The Englishman feels the other stirring awake, so he stops; the body becomes rigid soon after. "W-William?" the voice croaks out. Arthur recognizes the voice to be Kiku's but pays no heed to the rational side of him. He does not release his hold on the tense other, nor does he reply to the call of one of his many false names. The man does not think of an excuse as to why he's hugging the smaller man, but he then decides to go over the other. "Good morning, love," he says without thought.
Kiku begins to blush but manages to keep an incredulous glare at the other. Arthur leans in to kiss the other and is successful to make an unresponsive connection. The Englishman brushes his lips on the other's cheek, jaw line… neck then collarbone. All the while he mumbles out: "love bug or cupid's arrow".
The smaller man tries to push the other away; he is rewarded by being able to straddle the man. The words of demanding questions and slight accusations fill his mind, but he could not speak them out. Taking the opportunity of the stillness occurring, Arthur pulls the other in for another kiss.
He feels uncomfortable and unfamiliar, yet Kiku finds himself returning the gesture. He tightly clutches onto the other's shirt while Arthur's hands find their place by cupping the smaller man's face. The two roll over, and the Englishman is on top once more.
The kiss deepens as Arthur licks the other's lips open. Both of their faces colour (with Kiku's being darker). The smaller man is surely busy with kissing the other, for he doesn't feel the slow, repetitive tugs at the hem of both his pants and underwear.
--
Sitting at a table, there sit two men; both have blond hair and glasses, and they also seem identical to one another in looks (but not much on build). One of them, the one with blue eyes, is holding up a piece of paper with an intricate symbol on the top of it. As the man finishes what turns out to be a report, he notes the signature that reads out as a fancy, loopy 'Françis'.
With a sigh of small disbelief, he tosses the paper so that it slides towards the other sitting down with him. "It's Arthur all along, who knew?" he doesn't look as if he's talking to the other in the room but more to himself. "A juvenile delinquent in his earlier years, and then off to be a master criminal. We're screwed if anyone else 'ere found out—he's even in my unit!"
The man stands up and finally sees the other in the room; he jumps. "Woah. Mattie, when did you come in?" The other man is only halfway through the report then looks up—"…Been here for three hour—"
"Never mind. Get ready 'cause we're going to Italy."
He walks over to the door and picks up a bomber jacket that was hanging up in a hook. He smiles broadly and heads out whilst saying: "I'll show that old man not to mess around with the hero."
The man left in the room stands up as well, but he does not go over to the direction that the other has gone to. Instead, he goes over to where the other was sitting and picks up the forgotten ID card that also has the same symbol as the report and reads out: 'Alfred F. Jones'.
Alfred should be stuck in the security crossing, right about now. The other decided best to hurry before anything happens… like the last, oh, sixty times or so.
--
The two of them are sitting on the bed, and Kiku refuses to show his face to the Englishman. The smaller man has buried his face with both of his hands, and it seems like they have been glued together. His face is as red as it could possibly be—even the tips of his ears are beginning to colour. Arthur tries his best to comfort the other by hugging him and saying sweet nothings, but that has made the other all the more embarrassed.
Both of them are stark naked, by the way.
As Arthur rests his chin on the other's shoulder, his mind drifts off in the silence around them. He knows that Françis is here for him, and there is no doubt that Alfred and Matthew will know about this—it takes at least two or three days from the place he last heard of them from (which is about three weeks ago, so they still might be there). Even if he was risking himself by working with people he practically knew for his whole life, it was part of this game he made up a long time ago.
A few points for breaking in, another few for stealing treasures and misplacing them, a larger amount of points for joining one of the law enforcement careers, another large sum for being able to get away with any criminal deed while on the job to investigate another… ever since he was a lad has he planned this game since he had no one else to play with.
He remembers all the things he stole that is yet to be found. "Look into more museums and nurseries, you clueless twits. Everything is there," he'd always say to the newspapers and anchormen on the news. He doesn't keep the old relics because he has no other use for them, obviously. It's all the more stupid to sell them and expose yourself when you could just frame others— like Antonio, for example.
He and the oblivious git knew each other when they were in their teens. Arthur smirks triumphantly at the times he'd bully the other. "I didn't like him, anyways," is what he said.
He then recalls every name of whom he murdered—he had no choice, really… they were going to expose him. It's too early to lose. They weren't even close to him, so it's alright. A small unsettlement in the pit of his stomach unnerves him as an echo of screams is briefly heard in his mind.
Arthur frowns deeply and buries his face on the same crook of Kiku's neck; he nearly smiles as he felt the other shiver slightly. He has (somewhat) become like that insane man, who is he again? Ah, yes… Ivan Bra-something.
Maybe after all of this is over, he will turn into a 'full-time gentleman' and become sickeningly saintly. He might as well do that as he becomes old, fat and fifty. He shall call his current behaviour… his "Pirate Phase". Yes, a suitable term to clearly explain it all.
Arthur places a lingering kiss on the pale shoulder blade of the other in his arms. He gets out of bed and only bothers to wear a pair of pants. The Englishman looks back to the still-embarrassed Kiku and immediately decides to go back to bed. He kisses one hand and, like magic, is able to remove both hands from the other's face. The smaller man has resorted to closing his eyes as if it was a much better plan than using his hands to hide away—how adorably stubborn.
When Arthur kisses Kiku once more, they are at it again.
The Englishman decides that he will leave Italy tomorrow, so let it be known that he will fuck the other until the clock strikes noon (he has to make arrangements, after all). He glances at the wall clock of the room and sees that it's only seven in the morning.
A faint mewl is heard from Kiku as Arthur moves his hands on the other down…down…down.
This might be the last time they'll ever see each other again.