"You are a what?" Arthur's eyes widened more if that was even possible. Then a realization dawned on him. I- I liked that? Alfred nodded his head as if he knew what Arthur was thinking, which he might actually be able to do. Suddenly, the tall American had to support his falling weight because well, he fainted. The last thing Arthur thought before he completely blacked out was how comfortable Alfred embrace was.

Later on~

When Arthur woke up, he felt like he was lying on a bed of roses, his memory not coming back to him for a couple of moments. Which, ironically, was the same time that it took to realize what was so comfortable underneath him. He was lying on America's bed. America was right next to him, slowly blinking his azure eyes open, and that triggered the flow of whatever that was that happened yesterday. "Artie yah're awahke." Alfred said, using his patented southern drawl.

Arthur scooted to the edge of the bed, a faint blush slowly creeping up his face. "Go away, Alfred." He had to force-ably change his speech so he didn't call Alfred, Alfie, or love. From Alfred's perspective the cute Brit was turned away from him, pouting, a faint blush visible as he firmly denied Alfred the chance to talk to him. That was way too cute for him to ignore, so he crept up behind the unsuspecting Brit and tackled him in a crushing hug. Arthur's blush doubled, and then tripled, and he tried to push back Alfred which ended in failure. The smaller man's hands ended up tracing circles on Alfred's chest, mapping out the contours and his hands slowly slipped under the white fabric.

Suddenly Alfred jerked back, azure eyes as wide as saucers. Arthur was very, very displeased with the loss of Alfred and almost yanked the American's arm out of it's socket to get his attention. Alfred looked down at the feisty Brit and swung him over his shoulder like a piece of luggage.

"H-Hey! Put me down this instant!"

"Ahthur," Bloody hell, he loved that accent and it seemed like Alfred knew it too.

"We hahvta get outtah 'ere soon."

Alfred kicked the door open and ran down the stairs. He ran down forty floors without breaking a sweat or even faltering with the Englishman on his back. The way he was running made Arthur's nerves stand on end, the Big Apple blurring around him and the people becoming indecipherable.

"Slow down Alfie."

"Cahn't do that, Cap'n."

"I- WHAT? Did you just call me Captain?"

"Mmhm, sir, you's surah lookin for'a trouble."

For a second, Arthur actually remembered that Alfred was a vampire and he did possess all of these traits and powers. Only for a second though.

"What kind of trouble?"

"Tha worst kind, mah kind'ah trouble."

"How bad, Alfie?"

"It's-ah rhetorichal, Artie, jus' fall ahsleep."

With that Arthur took Alfred's suggestion and fell asleep on the American's strong build. No wonder what he was dreaming about.