9/27/2012

I'm adding on another chapter to this because I feel like an awful person for not updating The Wild Card sooner (I'll probably end up adding more chapters onto this whenever that happens in the future).

This chapter takes place during Chapter 12 of The Wild Card while Alfred and Arthur are at a party in the Spades Capital Town. Though Alfred mentioned the fact that they danced for a while, I never actually wrote the scene and I never really intended to. But I was listening to the song Arms by Christina Perri (beautiful song by the way) and this is the result, I guess.

Again, there is no romance in this story, even if the song that inspired this chapter is romantic.

I do not own Hetalia.

-o0o-

Spades Capital Town

Arthur hoped to Ace that Alfred liked what he had done. It wasn't nearly as clean or nice as what Alfred had painted for him, but Ace knows he tried. He tried so hard for this boy and his efforts better not have been in vain.

"Huh," he heard Alfred say as he fidgeted. He stared down at the stones beneath his feet as he awaited Alfred's judgment. He kept telling himself that he didn't care what Alfred thought, he didn't even care if Alfred said he hated it. He didn't care, Arthur repeated to himself vigorously.

"I-" Alfred began to say slowly, and Arthur winced, expecting the worst. "-love it! Ha ha, Arthur, this is great! I thought you said you were bad at this stuff!"

Arthur sputtered, surprised and secretly pleased by the compliment. "It's not good at all!" he protested. "I messed up the numbers and the hands are all crooked-"

"Psh, as if anyone care about that," Alfred said, rolling his eyes. "I think it's awesome and mine is the only opinion that matters, right?"

"I- I suppose."

"You suppose correctly!" Alfred said with a boisterous laugh before he stood up. "I'm so glad we did this, it was really fun!"

"Well, yes, it was wonderful and all, but now what?" Arthur asked, scowling. Alfred was in charge of what they did, since Arthur had lost the bet. He had no control of anything they did, much to his resentment. He was too used to being in charge; this whole arrangement felt strange and bothersome.

"Er, I'm not sure," Alfred said sheepishly and Arthur rolled his eyes. Of course Alfred didn't know what to do; he had decided to do the face painting on whim. What had made Arthur think that the boy had planned anything?

"There's tons of stuff to do…" Alfred continued to say and his voice trailed off. Arthur turned to look at him curiously. He followed the teenager's gaze to a little bit off where people twirled around a large bonfire.

Immediately he was reminded of the first time they had met, when they had danced and talked at the Gathering. That had been a fun and careless time. Unlike now, when everything reminded him of the dangerous situation that had become of that night.

He felt a warm hand take his and started, looking back to see Alfred smiling at him.

"C'mon, let's go."

Arthur let himself be dragged upwards off his seat by Alfred.

"To dance?" Arthur asked once he was standing.

"Yup. Let's go." Alfred pulled on Arthur's hand and he reluctantly followed.

He had never really loved dancing, not when his red haired cousin, Scott, had first taught him, or at fancy parties or even at the Gatherings. But it was different with Alfred. With Alfred it felt more like gliding instead of stomping, more like flying instead of swinging, more like euphoria than the usual boredom. He could tolerate dancing, even enjoy it, when he had Alfred for a partner.

And it didn't matter how bad he was at dancing; Alfred didn't pay attention to the correct moves or even what kind of dance they were listening to. As Alfred had told him the night of the Gathering, all that was important was the beat. Through the beat Alfred was able to twirl and fly around the dance floor like he was born to do so. It was only because of this natural skill that Arthur could pass as an acceptable dance partner.

And even despite all of this, Arthur was still hesitant to get anywhere near the crowd of dancers.

"This is ridiculous!" Arthur hissed as panic started to set in. He was going to make a fool of himself, he just knew it. "I don't want to dance! Alfred!" He started to resist Alfred's pull, digging the heels of his feet into the ground and trying to twist his hand out of Alfred's grip.

Alfred huffed. "Stop being such a baby; you'll be fine." He tugged on Arthur's arm once and Arthur tripped forward, unable to stop himself. The teenager's strength was incredible.

"But- I- don't- want to!" Arthur redoubled his efforts to escape.

Alfred sighed and stopped walking, though he refused to release his hold on the Queen. "What's the matter? You weren't this freaked out at the Gathering."

Arthur turned red, and looked away. "I- I don't want to go out there and dance, is all."

"Mhm, sure. I think I got that part." Alfred stared at him, twisting his lips into a frown as Townsfolk parted to walk around them on either side. "I wanna know the reason why though. Are you scared or something-?"

"Of course not!" Arthur replied instantly. "I'm not scared of anything!"

"Except dancing," Alfred said, obviously trying to keep a straight face and Arthur bristled.

"I am not scared of dancing!" he snapped and with one strong tug that took the teenager by surprise, finally managed to twist his hand out of Alfred's hold. "I just- I don't think that I'm good at it. I can hardly do the moves the Royal Deck taught me when I became Queen."

The last words came out as a mumble and he could feel his cheeks burning. He felt like a child who didn't know the difference between right and left. He absolutely hated not knowing how to do things, and dancing was definitely one of them.

"Well," Alfred said thoughtfully after a pause. "I think that's the cool part about dancing. You don't have to be good at it to participate. This isn't some fancy meeting or boring dinner party; this is different. This is for fun. Fun, Arthur. You don't have to be perfect all the time," he said gently.

Arthur looked up, startled. Alfred must have been more aware than he originally gave the boy credit for; no one had ever picked up on the fact that he was a perfectionist so quickly.

Surely he could trust Alfred with one dance? Arthur had already trusted Alfred not to make a fool of him with the face paint. One dance, he supposed, wouldn't do much to damage his reputation, especially since no one seemed to recognize him here anyway.

"…will you lead again, then?" he asked somewhat gruffly, still embarrassed. "Regardless of what you said, I'm still rubbish at dancing."

Alfred grinned, his whole face lighting up. "That's what you said about face painting, remember? But you did a great job anyways. Stop being so hard on yourself, no one's gonna judge you here. To everyone around us, you're just one in the crowd. You're not the Queen, you're just Arthur. And I'm just Alfred. You don't have to be nervous or anything, dude."

Arthur stared. The words Alfred had said earlier rushed back into his mind:

"We had fun at the last party we went to together. I want to know if we can still be like that. You know, just Alfred and just Arthur."

He steeled himself and stood up straight. "Alright then, Just Alfred." He lifted his arm and held his hand out to Alfred. "I believe this means you owe me a dance."

Alfred laughed and took Arthur's hand once more. "I guess I do, huh? C'mon, let's go over there."

He tugged on Arthur's hand and this time the Queen followed without hesitation. It was really amazing, he thought to himself as they passed through the crowd, how just a few words from one Alfred Jones had the ability to put all of his worries at ease. He was completely fine now, not the least bit nervous. Somehow, deep down, he knew that Alfred would never knowingly make Arthur uncomfortable, like he had feared before. He didn't understand how he knew this, but he had no doubts.

"Don't be gentle with me," he growled a little bit after they finally found a free spot on the floor. Alfred was moving noticeably slower, probably so Arthur could follow without stumbling or getting left behind. "If you're going to dance, dance like you want to. Don't let me hold you back."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "You sure you can keep up?"

"I will try," Arthur said, eyes hard and determined.

Suddenly, an evil smile crossed Alfred's face and the next thing he knew they were moving so fast the world was a blur. Arthur gasped and grabbed onto Alfred as the teenager swung them around the plaza. He hoped people were smart enough to move out of their way, but could do nothing but cling to Alfred while he spun them wildly around like a top.

He felt a thrill of fear in his stomach that was more exhilaration than terror and, to avoid getting dizzy, closed his eyes against the bright colors streaking around them. He let his forehead rest against Alfred's torso and tried to focus on his breathing. Alfred's laughter was loud and joyful in Arthur's ears, and he could feel its vibrations through Alfred's chest.

He smiled to himself. While dancing with anyone else was a boring and dull affair, it was quite the opposite with Alfred. This, he thought to himself, would never ever get old. Alfred, his personality and individuality, would never- could never- get old. He was too interesting, too lively, to do so. Somehow, without Arthur even knowing it was possible, Alfred had the ability to highlight the colors in the Queen's black and white life. And it felt…nice, for a change. It felt good. For the first time in a long, long time, Arthur felt good.

And so he let himself be swept around the plaza by the Hearts teenager, with the stars twinkling above like diamonds set against indigo velvet, as Alfred hummed tunelessly in his ears.