Hetalia - Down the Rabbit Hole

Chapter 15 and holy smokes everyone I'm back! University is out of the way and I am so hyped to get this steam train rolling again!

Welcome new readers and a huge huge thank you all of you who reviewed during the hiatus, it was super appreciated and got me excited to return to this story again.

Just to let everyone know, I actually have a tumblr account dedicated to my writing called lollipoplou. I post chapter updates, reblog cool fan art (like what Britannia's suit looks like), answering questions and am open to accepting writing prompts, so why not go and have a gander :D

With nothing left to say, I finally present thee with the next chapter

Enjoy!

Unknown, Unknown, Arthur Kirkland's Bedroom.

Warmth.

That was the first thing Arthur became aware of. He was perfectly warm, as though he were lying under the sun's rays.

A pleased hum left him as he shifted, soft bedsheets rustling beneath him, when his eyes snapped open as he felt a foreign weight pressing against his back.

He bolted to throw himself off the bed, face aflame as he simultaneously realised he was nude, when something met him. Arthur yelped as he pulled back and roughly landed on top of whatever had grabbed him, straddling on something firm.

'Morning beautiful.' A familiar voice, thick with sleep, chuckled to make Arthur's eyes pop as he stared struck at who he was laying on. Sun kissed bronze skin, tousled blonde hair with closed eyes and perfect teeth that flashed, Alfred Jones stretched out lazily below him like a renaissance greek god.

Arthur could only ogle that the vision in front of him, too perfect to be real. It took a solid minute for his wits to return to him, and when they did, blood flooded his cheeks. He was sat with either knee astride Alfred's hips, hands splayed against a set of gloriously defined ads and matching pecs. Nothing between either their naked crotches but a thin bed sheet.

Arthur's hands flew so fast to hide his face that he slapped himself, head bowed whilst his heart threatened to burst from his chest. This wasn't happening. He wasn't naked in bed on top of Alfred, he—

'Arthur? C'mon, you can hardly be shy after last night.' Alfred teased, and Arthur felt two strong arms gently pull him down to the American's chest. Arthur remained still even as the arms went on to cradle the back of his head and waist, rubbing small circles into his skin.

Last night? They hadn't—

'A-Alfred?,' His voice came out small, truthfully finding it hard to think when he was hyperaware of how their bodies were pressed against each other, and how every little shift sent a pleasant tingling through him. This couldn't be real…Could it? 'Did we…?'

Alfred's throat vibrated as he chuckled and tucked Arthur's head under his chin, an idle finger tracing out a constellation with Arthur's old back scars; drawing together the discoloured white patches of skin. The pleasurable sensation lulled Arthur's eyes to close as he automatically relaxed under the ministrations, sweeping away his concerns into a back corner.

Mmmmhmmm~

'Surely, I wasn't that forgettable. Would you like a refresher, love?'

Tension slammed into Arthur like a freight train.

Alfred didn't say 'love'.

NO.

Arthur bucked. Desperate to rip himself out of the demon's grasp, but the thick arms were cages and they crushed down him back down tight.

'Let me go you sick fuck!' Arthur screamed as Hatter's cruel laughter bounced and scattered off the walls. Alfred's eyes open now, unnatural electric blue orbs locking on Arthur's as he writhed to free himself, lips pulled into a sadistic grin as they laughed.

'Too easy~'

Arthur thrashed for all he was worth, tripling his frantic efforts when he felt a hand cup his jaw 'Get your bloody hands off me!'

'And to think, it all took was to wear this stupid boy's face,' Hatter taunted as he traced a thumb over Arthur's resisting lips, a line formed between his brows. 'It is truly beyond me what you see in a maggot like him—'

Hatter's taunt was cut short when a thunderous quake shook the room, a splinted crack frosted the window glass. The dreamscape collapsing with Arthur's hysteria. Hatter gave a disappointed tut before he turned his attention back to Arthur squirming in his arms; his twisting form beginning to faze as he began to wake himself of REM.

'Looks like our playtime's over for now poppet. Still, there's always next time, and the next time and the next time after that~' Hatter cooed with a perverse grin before shoving his face forward and mushing their faces together.

Arthur screamed around the vomit-inducing kiss, and continued to scream even as he felt himself be drawn up and away from the dream room, pipelined back to reality.

Spades District, The Kirkland Residence, Arthur Kirkland's Bedroom.

Arthur Kirkland bolted upright, and thrashed in the tangled bed sheets that stuck to him with cold sweat, spluttering and choking for deprived breath whilst his heart raced a mile a minute. His head snapped sideways and only when he saw that he was alone, did his brain rationalise that he was safe for now.

He swiped a forearm against his damp forehead, grimacing at how disgustingly slick it was with perspiration and looked outside to where the morning sun shone in through his windows, and bathed the Terra's skyline in gold.

He was back. Hatter could only keep him under for so long. But that just meant that Arthur was powerless to do anything else but hold out against Hatter's torments. A exhausted sigh left him as he ground his palms over his tired eyes. At least he had spared his brothers from the same fate. His stomach coiled at the thought. He would have to tell them at some point though. That Hatter was back and targeting him. He would tell them…eventually…just maybe after he'd came up with a more permanent solution.

A long groan was pulled from him as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and a wave of fire ignited across his back; not as healed as he had lead his brothers and Columbia to believe with illusionary magic. The wound still hurt like a bitch whenever Arthur moved in the wrong way, but he'd always been good at masking just how much pain he was in.

He reached over to his bedside table and poured out a handful of pain killers from Allistor's little orange pot and downed them all at once, crunching them to speed up the process. He forced himself to his feet and stumbled over to his dresser, avoiding the mirror in favour of the Britannia mask that sat on top. He smiled fondly at it.

He and Columbia had made some fantastic progress last night. The Wang lead had done wonders for his confidence in working as a team; Allistor in his ear again, and Columbia with him out on the field felt right, natural even.

The American hero had proven himself a capable ally, even if he was cocky as anything. Perhaps because he hadn't been given the opportunity to properly utilise it, people underestimated just how strong Columbia was. He was strong and kind, and he was brave. He had saved his life, and Arthur had meant very word when he said that they made a good team. Admittedly, he looked forward to their next mission together to infiltrate the Jasmine Dragon.

But what exactly did that mean. What were they? Unofficial partners? Would Columbia even want to make it so? And would he want to continue this…whatever they had, after they were finished with Wang and the missing scientists case? If Arthur decided to go after the White Woman, or investigate why the Winter Syndicate had placed a fucking hit on Alfred's head (The first thing Arthur had done once he had been able to move was call one of his mother's old 'friends' to buy out the hit. Being among the best of the best, the 'friend' hadn't asked any questions, only promised that no one would be coming after Alfred again.) would Columbia offer to stick around? Surely, he would if it was a matter of Alfred's well being.

Alfred…

Arthur raised his head, and scowled at his reflection as he attempted to tame his wild hair, the gravity defying tufts looking like blond horns. The image of Alfred's face twisted by Hatter, Hatter's cruel laughter coming from Alfred's lips… The Brit ran a hand down his face and sighed exasperated at the dark bags underneath his eyes.

No. The real Alfred was out there, safe, with a normal life and who dreamt of normal things. Not traumatising dream demons. Arthur's hand dropped from his face and he thudded his forehead against the mirror.

What was his heart doing? The sensible part of him, the Britannia part, knew that the difference between him and Alfred was too great for any kind of relationship Arthur wanted. And yet, good god Arthur wanted it.

He wanted to look at Alfred's smile everyday; he wanted to wake up to it, and know that he was the reason behind it. Alfred Jones radiated warmth, good and honest warmth. He was genuine and uncomplicated. He lived the life Arthur had never had the chance to. He was— well, he was to Arthur what the green light that the end of Daisy's dock was to Gatsby: a dream.

A beautiful, impossible dream that he was completely in love with.

The loud buzz of a text alert grabbed Arthur's attention, and when he checked it, he saw he had ten missed calls and one text message all from Lukas.

Got word that people like us are coming to Terra.

Please be safe, keep your head down.

L

Arthur huffed. Great. Of course, days before he and Columbia planned to go after Wang, more Lucid people were arriving in Terra. Still, they'd cross that bridge if or when they came to it.

'Shite.' Arthur cursed when he saw the time and that he was late. He dropped the phone and legged it for the shower, a smile on his smile despite himself, as he thought about the upcoming day being spent with Alfred.

Spades District, The University of Gaia, Lecture Hall One

'And so because of the uh- event that has happened, the school has decided to not take part in the founding festival,' Francis Bonnefoy glumly announced to his class (at least those who'd bothered to show, with many claiming they required at least a week's break to recover from the trauma of the attack) at the front of the classroom.

Alfred sat with his head in his hands, bored out of his mind.

He was so over keeping up appearances when he could be training with Britannia for their next mission, or reading through the files Germania had sent them (Alfred had practically spilled everything about what he had learnt with Britannia, including that Ivan Braginsky was General Winter before Germania had been appeased enough that he agreed to send them their files on Wang. Matthew had been pleased but Alfred felt played) with Matthew back home. But, of course, his brother had to be a buzzkill and rub the fact that he was still failing Bonnefoy's class in his face, and he had to at least keep up attendance if he was ever going to make a recovery.

The only saving graces were that Alfred had managed to swipe the files before he'd left the apartment so he could get a read first, and that he would see Arthur again today, for the first time since they had separated during the school attack.

In truth Alfred was sweating bullets over it. How would things be between them? Would Arthur be offended that he haven't contacted him to check on him? Alfred had wanted to do that, but it wasn't like he could of just asked Britannia for Arthur's number as Columbia without sounding like a creep. And if he'd asked one of the Kirkland's, they'd totally know something was up.

Alfred slumped down in his seat and softly banged his head against the desk. He really, really wanted to talk to Arthur. More than he suspected he should on a friendship level. Which seriously messed with his head when he knew that he was beyond crazy for Britannia. Alfred had always laughed at characters in movies when they were in a love triangle, but never had he thought that he would understand the frustration of being in one.

No.

What the hell was he saying? He couldn't be in a love triangle with Arthur because for that to happen, Arthur would also have to be in love with him. That thought helped clear his head. If Arthur had no interest in him, then there was no problem; and he could love Britannia with a clear conscious.

'But will you really be happy with that?' The green eyed monster asked, and Alfred internally frowned at it.

'Yeah. Of course. It's totally cool if Arthur only sees me as a friend. I'd be fine with it'

'You're lying.'

Alfred bit down on his lip and sank lower, practically lying down.

Yeah. He was.

Arthur flew through the corridors, skimming past lecture hall after lecture hall looking for one in particular. When lecture hall one came into sight, Arthur took a deep breath to steel his nerves and opened the door the exact moment the calling bell went off.

The classroom was noticeably empty, with twelve students at most, all low in their seats. Arthur's eyes scanned between the faces until he finally saw the one he searched for. Alfred Jones sat up at the back of the class and when green eyes met blue, his slumped form shot up to attention.

But alas, before Arthur could even think about smiling, he was nearly knocked off his feet as Francis crushed him in his arms.

'I thought you had been hurt. I thought…' The frenchman gasped with his face buried in Arthur's messy hair, mumbled breath hot against his ear. Arthur's rigidness melted away and he gave a small smile as he relaxed into the embrace, bringing his arms up to return the hold. Though they would bicker like cats and dogs, Arthur knew that deep down that Francis did legitimately care for him, just as he did with him.

'So sentimental, Francis. You haven't been on the wine again, have you?' Arthur smirked and grunted when a hand snaked down to palm a buttock.

And the perverse, cheese loving tool he knew as Francis was back.

'I'll consider it if you would agree to drink with me, mon petite lapin.' Francis sultrily purred before Arthur grabbed his hands and pushed them back with a stern look, ignoring the raised brows of students as they passed by for the door.

'Hard pass, I'm afraid. Now if you'll excuse me.' Arthur said and turned around to see Alfred standing only about a metre behind him, looking awed.

Arthur's tongue was suddenly very thick in his mouth, his throat too closed to draw enough air to speak. Neither of them said anything. They just gazed at each other as though not seeing the other for a long time. Somewhere far off, Francis quietly excused himself out.

'Hey, Arthur,' Alfred croaked before he cleared his throat to try again. 'Hey, uh- I'm super- It's good to see you.'

Good lord, Arthur was not prepared for the wave of heat that hit him from hearing his voice again. 'L-likewise,' He managed to stammer in reply. Get a grip! 'You look…well.'

Alfred gave an adorable nervous laugh as he rubbed the back of his head. 'Yeah. I've kinda been working out,' He said with a small secretive smirk before his face turned semi-serious. 'When we split up, you got out alright, yeah?'

'Oh. Yes. You?' Arthur returned and felt his heart speed up when a light danced behind Alfred's eyes.

'Yeah! Arthur you wouldn't believe it, Britannia saved me! He was totally amazing, like the bravest person in the world, putting my life over his. And man, don't even get me started on how awesome his powers were!'

Arthur had to turn away and pretend to burst into a violent coughing fit for fear that Alfred would see how red he was. 'That's great.' He choked.

'Uh-huh. So, like how was your dad's?' Alfred asked obliviously, and Arthur's fit stopped as shortly as it had started.

He'd never given such a cover story to Alfred. A lightbulb flashed as he realised that Matthew likely passed on the information when his brothers had announced it. However, by deduction, that meant that Alfred must of asked after him. The realisation gave him a pleasant hum in his chest.

'How did you know that I was at my father's?' He asked regardless for appearances' sake, and for the thrill of confirmation.

Alfred sheepishly scratched his nose. 'Uh, I kinda checked by your place after it all. Allistor answered the door and told me.'

A line immediately formed between Arthur's brows. That couldn't be right. Allistor would have told him that Alfred had stopped by, wouldn't have he? A coil squirmed in his stomach at the thought of Alfred having only a wall between Columbia and himself as Britannia, bleeding out and heavily sedated. Bloody hell, what if no one had cleaned up his blood that had dripped onto the carpet and Alfred had seen it?

Arthur shuddered at the mental scene of Alfred pushing his way into the penthouse and stumbling upon him and Columbia.

No. He could never allow Alfred to get that close again.

'I see,' He forced himself to say with a strained smile. 'nice to know you care so much.'

'Of course I do Arthur! When you ran out on me, I was freaking losing it!' Alfred exclaimed, and Arthur was suddenly very conscious of how close they were, about half a ruler's length. It forced Arthur to look up to maintain eye contact.

They were getting very, very close.

'I was so worried, I— I was so scared…' Alfred continued, his voice dropping to a low mumble, his lips hardly moving as they spoke and his eyes half lidded.

They drew closer still.

Arthur didn't try to hide the colour of his cheeks now, the only thing he could think of was Alfred. Alfred, and how now their chests were inches from touching, hearts beating hard, in harmony inside their bone cages.

'Why?' Alfred breathed.

'I couldn't let you get hurt,' Arthur whispered, so quiet you could of almost missed it. The air between them was seemingly charged with electricity, tangible and alive. 'I couldn't.'

Their breaths were intermingled, hot shared breaths exchanged between the two.

'Arthur.' Alfred rumbled, and before he could second guess himself, Arthur moved and pressed their lips together.

A soft sound, a breathy groan left Alfred's throat as Arthur moulded against him, hands sliding up into his hair to pull him deeper into the kiss; Alfred's breath tasting like morning coffee, blueberries and peppermint. Alfred's hands came to rest lightly around his waist, relishing in the sharp sweetness of the kiss's crescendo. It was only when the need for air became too great to ignore, did they break away.

Their chests rose and fall in tandem. Arthur stared up at Alfred, fiercely red. Alfred stared back at him, just looking at him. Neither quite believing what they had just done.

'That was—'

'Arthur I—' They uttered at the same time, and their blushes deepened. Alfred broke off the eye contact with a dip of his head and cleared his throat.

'I don't know what to say.'

Arthur was having trouble himself forming a thought; his head felt so blissfully light and his pink lips tingled with the fresh memory of Alfred's on them.

'I'm quite taken for breath as well.' Arthur said with an airy laugh, when a hurt weight yanked on his heart at the sight of Alfred's brows furrowed.

'No, I mean, I'm not sure how I— I'm confused.' Alfred confessed, his eyes distant and conflicted, fighting an inner battle within himself.

'Oh.' An icicle impaled itself into Arthur's heart, and his hands dropped away. He took a step back, reinstating the distance between them.

Alarm shot across Alfred's face and he reached out to grip Arthur's hand. 'No! I didn't mean that as like a rejection. I— I liked the kiss. Hell, I really liked the kiss, Arthur. But…my head's in a kind of weird place right now,' Alfred pleaded, an legitimate edge of desperation cracking his words.

'Could I just, have some time to get it together?'

Arthur gave a small nod with an even smaller smile. It wasn't exactly what he'd been hoping for. But it was better the alternative, and if what Alfred needed was space to be sure of what he wanted, then Arthur could wait.

Alfred's grateful smile lit up the room, suspending time for a single second, before a tinny buzzing resounded. Recognising it as his ringtone, Alfred shrugged off his backpack, giving it to Arthur to hold whilst he rooted through it.

'Lemme just take this, and do you, I dunno want to go for lunch or something?' Alfred asked as he pulled out the mobile.

Arthur nodded again, considerably more enthusiastic than his earlier one. A lunch date sounded amazing. Alfred flashed him a quick grin before he wandered towards the back of the classroom to get his call.

His space his own again, Arthur sighed and looked down at the rucksack he still held, pressing his lips together at the hefty weight of it. Just what exactly did Alfred have in here?

A brief glance to check that Alfred had his back to him, Arthur unzipped the bag wider to look inside, and frowned when he saw a sizeable yellow file inside. Silently, he slipped out the file, turning it over curiously before he opened it, and went cold.

Yao Wang's picture stared back at him, attached by paperclip to a document detailing information on the man's underworld business empire; lists of shipping networks, lists of known yakuza members, known sightings, allies and connections.

Arthur saw red.

His hands shook, unbridled wrath rising up inside him like an ugly venomous snake. Columbia had Alfred involved. Columbia had had Alfred investigate Wang and put together these files on him. Shit! What the bloody hell else had Columbia involved him with?

A terrible thought dawned upon Arthur: what if Columbia had assigned Alfred to gather info on the Winter Syndicate? And that was the reason why they had placed the hit on his head. Alfred had gotten too close, and the Syndicate had assigned an assassin to him before he could relay the information…

Columbia.

He had fucking trusted him.

Not trusting himself to keep his composer in front of Alfred, to keep up the play act that he was completely ignorant of his…dealings, Arthur shoved the files back into the bag and stormed out of the lecture hall, slamming the door shut behind him. Alfred's surprised calls echoed after him and tears stung his eyes as he broke into a run, pushing past the swarms of students for the door leading outside.

He had trusted him.

*Runs away screaming*

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Until next time folks!