Disclaimer: We don't own Hetalia, unfortunately. It belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. Also, expect yaoi in later chapters. Don't like it, don't read it.
Note: I keep forgetting to say this, but I'm writing as Alfred while my epic buddy is writing as Arthur.

Fresh tears tracked down Alfred's face. He wasn't sure what hurt worse anymore… his heart or the numerous injuries he'd acquired throughout the day. 'You asked!' he mentally yelled, thinking back to the question he wanted to forget. He didn't know how much time had passed before he had calmed down to notice his surroundings. Everything was blurry; he recalled leaving his glasses in the dorm room. Daylight was beginning to hint in the pinkish clouds over head.

Alfred shoved himself to his feet, ignoring the stabbing pain in his wrists, and shuffled numbly back the way he thought he'd came. Images of the green eyed punk flashed through his mind. He shook his head, trying to chase them away, and thought, 'Don't play with me… don't play.' Eventually, he made it back to the dorm. The door to their room was still unlocked, so he walked in and slid to the floor against his wardrobe. Within seconds, he was out cold with his head on his knees once again.

Arthur did hear him and after a bit, he sat up and looked at Alfred before he frowned, "I seriously don't get you. You wanted to be with me and you say you loved me, but when I say that I love you, you leave me. Just tell me if you just did this to tease me. Thank you, you fucking asshole."

Arthur then pulled the duvet over his head, scowling into his sheets.

Alfred didn't hear a word that Arthur said. He was lost in a dream… rather, what he almost perceived as a nightmare. His dream-self watched the punk playing his guitar and sing what almost sounded like a lullaby. His unconscious eyes glistened with unshed tears, unseen by Arthur.

Arthur kicked the duvet away and walked down to Alfred. He knelt down in front of him and slapped him hard, grabbing his hair and forced his head up.

"What's wrong with you?! Huh?!" he screamed at Alfred, "Tell me!"

The rude awakening was nearly appreciated. Alfred winced as he was pulled partially off the floor by his hair. He tried to smack Arthur's hands away, but only succeeded in hurting himself. His wrists throbbed as he continued to fight the punk's hold on him.

"Let go!" he yelled back, "What the hell did I do to you?"

"YOU-" Arthur narrowed his eyes before slapping him again, "I told you that I loved you, but you ran away! Do you have any idea how it feels!? To be left right when you confess?!"

Alfred went limp and looked anywhere other than at Arthur's face. He couldn't look at those eyes and couldn't bring himself to speak. He'd let the punk beat him into a bloody pulp if it'd make him feel better, but wouldn't forget how it felt when Arthur had sang to him.

"I told you that I loved you! What more do you want!" Arthur slowly tearing up, "I-I love you, Alfred..."

Alfred looked up into Arthur's eyes, then gently wiped away his tears. He knew that it had been the way the Brit had phrased his sentence last night that made him run. The hint of what he thought was doubt. Now, he regretted not staying… not making sure.

"You could let go of my hair," his red rimmed eyes turned pleading, "And prove it."

"So you can run off and make a fool of myself again? Tch... sure," he let go of him and got up.

What if he ran off again? It would hurt even more, but there was no way he would do that.

"I don't wanna make you believe. Either you believe me or not. Because last time I was in love, everything fucked up," Arthur snapped.

Alfred's head hit the floor with an audible crack. He laid there for a moment, too dazed to move. Several minutes passed before he could do anything other than wish he'd not told Arthur to let go. He had to force himself to stay awake and heave himself upright. Everything was blurry. He would have thought it was just from hitting his head, but he'd left his glasses on the punk's bed.

"Arthur, I'm not leaving," he said truthfully; he couldn't even stand at this rate.

Arthur blinked twice, still frowning. He knelt down in front of Alfred's pulled Alfred close before he kissed him deeply, but only for short time.

"But I am mad at you! I will not talk with you again until you apologize!" Arthur said, then went back to his bed.

Stunned to distraction by the kiss, Alfred didn't notice that his hair had matted on one side. The world tilted and the floor came up to meet him as he passed out.

Arthur just ignored him, got into bed and closed his eyes, soon falling asleep.

By the time Arthur woke again, Alfred's hair was partially soaked in his own blood. The American was still unconscious.

Arthur slowly woke up and saw Alfred, in fact. He didn't get scared; he got mad, angry and just wanted to beat the hell out of him. Yet, he called the school's doctor.

The phone rang for a few seconds before a chipper receptionist picked up, "University Clinic, how can I help you today?"

Arthur frowned slightly. "My friend is bleeding... uh, I think it's from his head. We are in room 17."

"Do you know how he sustained the injury?" she inquired, then covered the mic and said something to someone else.

Arthur sighed, "I have no idea what happened"

"Uh-huh," she said, clearly not believing a word, "Zach is heading your way."

Alfred woke while Arthur was on the phone. He felt like someone had used him as a punching bag… then vaguely recalled the night before. He groaned quietly as the light from their window nearly blinded him.

"Okay," Arthur then hung up and frowned, "Bitch"

The punk sat down, waiting for Zach to come. She almost sounded like she thought he had beaten up Alfred.

Alfred shifted slightly to move out of the sunlight. He felt like death warmed over. Everything ached and his head throbbed with his pulse. A knock at the door caused him to flinch, making it all worse.

"Arthur?" he called out uncertainly.

Arthur shrugged and walked to the door and opened it.

"He's over there... I have no idea what happened, so…" he said, walking back to his bed.

Zach could have easily been a quarterback, standing at 6'5" and well-toned. He walked in with his medic's kit and rolled his eyes at Arthur. He'd already heard from Amber that the guy was a bit of an ass, but withheld his judgment until now. Disregarding the ass, he walked over and sat down next to the guy's roommate. The kid was in pretty rough shape. He looked at the bloodied bump on the side of the kid's head; it wasn't as bad as it looked. As he set about cleaning the wound, he glanced over at Arthur.

"Hey you, do you know anything about his condition?" Zach gestured toward Alfred's hands.

The punk narrowed his eyes. Of course he would ask. It was like that every time something happened, he always got the blame. A sigh left him as he folded his arms over his chest.

"I've already told that woman that I have no idea what happened, all right? We had a bit of a fight and when I woke up, he was like this," Arthur explained before realizing he only was standing in boxers.

Awkwardly he grabbed a blanket and covered himself.

Zach snickered at the punk. He'd seen worse at frat parties with his friends, but refrained from saying anything on that topic. The side of the kid's face had him worried. He very lightly touched the bruise on his cheek. The slight grimace was all he needed to not trust the words pouring out of the punk's mouth. He got up and walked over, grabbing one of Arthur's hands so he could judge its size.

"Ya know," Zach glared down at him, "There's not much I hate more than a liar. Why'd you hit him?"

"I slapped him. It wasn't me who caused the blood. And because… it's not something you should know. Alfred is just an asshole and he hurt me."

Well, Arthur was mad and hurt, but Alfred was too. Still, Arthur didn't want to lose pride; therefore, he also tried to act as cool as possible.

"You… slapped him?" Zach eyed him curiously, "Lovers spat? Regardless, get some clothes on and help me move him."

Zach turned on his heel and started moving the boxes off Alfred bed, then discreetly found his sheets in one of them. He thought about the two while he made the kid's bed. It wasn't uncommon to stumble upon a gay couple at the university, but he hadn't seen a physically abusive relationship in his four years of attendance. He glanced down at Alfred, who seemed to have falling back asleep, and wondered if he was about to do the right thing.

"He is not my lover!" Arthur hissed.

The punk opened his closed and tossed almost everything out to find that stupid uniform. Once he found it, he walked off to the toilet and got dressed, brushed his teeth and in fact, just trying to waste Zach's time to be annoying.

After good 30 minutes, he came back with a frown, "Ready Zachie-boy?"

"Shut up before I kiss that foul mouth of yours," Zach smirked deviously at Arthur.

He'd bandaged the kid's head, then cleaned and reapplied the bandages on his wrists while the 'prissy punk' got ready. Zach had been wondering how he'd managed to sprain both wrists, but wasn't going to ask just yet. Lying on the floor wasn't doing the kid any favors. He got to his feet and stood by Alfred's torso.

"Get his feet, alright?"

Arthur nodded and grabbed around Alfred's ankles as he eyed Zach.

"Kiss my foul mouth? Oh, how charming and sweet you are," Arthur mumbled under his breath, "But if you wish to kiss me, just ask. I'd understand," He laughed, "You aren't the first."

Of course he tried to act like a popular jock who everyone loved.-Zach, for sure, knew it was a lie.

Zach snorted, "I don't think your boyfriend here would appreciate that."

The senior looped his arms under Alfred's and hoisted him onto the bed. He took a few minutes to adjust where the kid's arms were and propped his feet up with a spare pillow. Once he'd pulled the sheets over Alfred's sleeping form, he turned back to Arthur.

"Our clinic's too small to watch him, so I want you to keep an eye on him," his tone changed from semi-playful to dead serious, "He more than likely has a concussion, so wake him up every four hours and make sure he can hold a decent conversation with you. If he can't, call us."

He paused to consider how to say what had been on his mind since he'd found the bruise on the kid's face.

"I don't give a shit if this isn't my business, but you shouldn't go around hitting people even if they hurt you first."

Arthur nodded slowly before he heard those words.

"Hitting? Do you have any idea what happened?! Do you have any idea what he said… what he did?! In fact, you are right, it's not your business. You should shut the fuck up and go back being a little bitch somewhere else," Arthur growled

He turned away from Zach and walked a bit away.

"You misunderstood me, kid," Zach shook his head, "He's going to need you for a while. Don't be too harsh on him. I'll be back in a few hours to check on both of you."

Zach headed out the door and closed it softly, hoping the punk would listen.

Alfred had woken up when he'd heard Arthur raise his voice. He'd kept his eyes closed until the door closed, however. He looked over at his roommate, wondering if he was still truly angry about last night.

Arthur stood there for few seconds before he realized Alfred was awake. He wanted to shout at him, yell, scream, and break something. But even though he felt so much anger, he slowly sat down on Alfred bed and said, "Sorry I hit... you."

Alfred had been halfway dreading this moment since the ibuprofen kicked in a few minutes ago. His mind had cleared enough for him to remember almost all of what had happened. He pushed the sheets down to his waist and unsteadily sat up; it was awkward due to the pillow under his legs. Pulling Arthur into a hug, he sighed into his roommate's shoulder.

"I shouldn't have run off last night… I asked for a second chance and I kind of blew it. Forgive me?" he asked, uncertain of what else to say.

Why did it hit Arthur so hard? No one had ever apologized to him, people used to blame him... this time, it was different. He started to tear up, crying softly as he hugged Alfred back tightly, buried his head into his shoulder. He didn't know why. It wasn't only because of this he cried, but he had finally allowed himself to cry so now. He just vented all those pent up tears at once.

"I-I don't even know what happened..! W-Why wouldn't you tell me!?" he cried harder.

Alfred held him close and kissed the side of his head, "Hey… don't cry, love."

There had been so many questions Arthur had asked the previous day, he wasn't entirely certain which one he was talking about. Most of them had to do with his mental health, but Alfred was fairly certain that wasn't what the punk was asking about.

"Ask me again and I'll try to answer, alright?" he inquired, kept his tone soothing.

"When I told you that I loved you, you ran! A-And when you started bleeding, you wouldn't tell me what was wrong..." he mumbled almost silently, resting his head against Alfred and biting his lip hard.

Alfred leaned his head against Arthur's and started rubbing his roommate's back. His memory wasn't really cooperating as he tried to piece together everything that'd happened. He'd been so tired when he'd gotten back; he was still tired, despite sleeping for several hours. Then, it clicked.

"You initially said you might love me," he squeezed his eyes shut, "And… I was afraid that you were just messing with me. I did tell you, though; I was thinking about you. Even when I ran out the door, I couldn't get you out of my head."

His shoulder shook slightly as his forehead fell on Arthur's shoulder. It had never been his intention to hurt the punk.

Arthur just nodded slowly as he leaned against the American before he apologized, "Sorry I slapped you and got so mad. I don't know why I did... I just think all my feelings rushed up and... Yeah…" he sighed, biting his lip before walked to his own bed and sat there. It was a lot colder than being with Alfred.

"I-It's okay," Alfred said quietly, looking down at his hands.

Why did Arthur always pull away? It made him feel utterly empty, almost worthless. His blue eyes misted over as he tried to fight off the impending depression. This wasn't like him, but he couldn't help it. 'I have died every day waiting for him,' he thought bitterly, 'and I have no idea how to let him know that I'll always be here for him.'

"I want you to touch me..." Arthur said, looked at Alfred with serious eyes. No... not sexually, or maybe a little, but mostly to feel their skin against each other. Also, cuddling half naked was maybe what they needed.

"W-what?" he looked up, blushing and trying to swallow back the tears that threatened him.

What had brought this on? Alfred wished he could see Arthur's face clearly. He sounded serious, but the American was roughly half blind without his glasses.

Arthur bit his lip as his face heated up.

"G-Get over here, dummy!" he said.

The punk wanted to feel Alfred's hands against him… so bad.

Alfred swung his legs out from the sheets, then blushed from his hairline to his neck. He knew he hadn't changed last night, so why was he in his pjs? He tried to contain himself as he walked over to Arthur. His pulse sped up slightly as he looked into the punk's stunning green eyes.

Arthur stared right back into Alfred's diamond blue eyes. He smirked slightly, though it only was a façade. He pulled Alfred onto the bed when he was close enough and then pulled his shirt off. Arthur showed off his bare upper body as he took a deep breath.

"Touch me," he breathed.

A shocked gasp escaped his lips as Arthur pulled him onto the bed. He hadn't been sure until that moment that his face could get any redder, but it did as Arthur removed his shirt. The punk was more toned than he'd imagined. He straddled Arthur's lap, wishing he could ditch his own shirt; he knew he couldn't considering the buttons. Leaning in, he kissed his angel's lips passionately and let his hands wander over the punk's chest. They shook at first, then steadied with his growing confidence.

Arthur blushed darkly; god, he love this feeling. He kissed back, slowly, deeply as he leaned back down on the bed and pulled Alfred with him. He smiled more than ever.

Alfred let his angel pull him down, trying not to break their kiss. He pulled away to breath and smiled adoringly at Arthur. Delicately, he placed a kiss over Arthur's heart before nuzzling into his chest. A wave of vertigo refused to let him do anything other than lay there and listen to the Brit's heartbeat.

Arthur ran his fingers through his hair as he smiled warmly.

"I love the feeling when you touch my skin.." he said, blushing, smiling.

God, he loved this; he loved Alfred… loved being close to him.

"W-We got a test tomorrow," he whispered

Alfred sighed contentedly. He would have probably fallen asleep again when Arthur played with his hair, but he was curious. Was Arthur ticklish? Once the short bout of dizziness passed, he started tracing light, nonsensical patterns down his angel's side.

"Tomorrow's Sunday," he mumbled sleepily.

Arthur twitched and giggled, "S-Stop..!"

The punk was very ticklish. He smiled softly, grabbed Alfred's hands and moved them away.

"I know, but it's college placement exams. We did get grades to get in here, but in some tests, you can be lucky by marking randomly, so.. Yeah."

Alfred grinned as his hands were pulled away. Arthur had an amazing laugh and he had plans to use his newfound knowledge later on. Until then, he provided as little resistance as he could to keep his angel from messing with his wrists too much.

"Why should I?" he asked playfully, then thought back.

Testing through the ACT had been an absolute pain. Hours of either staring at an answer sheet or trying to halfway avoid everyone else were one of his definitions of a personal hell. Mattie had been the one to point it out years ago. He noted that despite Alfred's chipper exterior, he didn't go out of his way to be physically interactive. The American mused briefly about how much that had changed when he was with Arthur.

"Wish I'd gotten the memo sooner," he sighed softly.

"Yeah," he said softly, looking at Alfred with a little smile.

God... He was beautiful. Was he allowed to call a man beautiful? Well, he did. He was amazing and he loved every part of him. Arthur then realized he had grabbed the others hands and panicked.

"O-Oh! I grab- I'm so sorry! I was told by Zach that- And I- Argh! It didn't hurt right? I mean, I didn't mean to hurt you. So," he bit his lip.

Alfred had barely felt anything through the pain killers and bandages. He pulled himself up on his elbows. An amused smile graced his face as he kissed Arthur affectionately, trying to assuage his dismay.

"No worries. I'm fine, okay? No harm done," he said placating. Bliss surged through him, but what dampened by one small thing, "Who's Zach?"

Arthur blinked twice, "Zach? Oh, his just the doctor's helper. He came here and helped me with you." He said with a smile, kissing Alfred slowly, and then closed his eyes as he broke the kiss, "Why are you asking?"

Alfred lost himself in the kiss for a moment, blushing lightly. It was so easy to forget everything else when he was with Arthur. It didn't stop him from trying to think back, however. He recalled another voice earlier. That was it… just a voice. He hadn't been conscious enough to really notice much more. It did explain how he'd gotten into his pjs, not that it did anything for his growing embarrassment. Had… had Arthur seen him? What else had happened while he'd been out of it?

"N-no reason," he muttered.

"What? Tell me?" he laughed and kissed his head, hugging him tightly with a smile, snuggling closer "Don't tell me you are jealous? Right?" he chuckled, licked his chin, only to tease him, then pulled away quickly, "Need to shave."

"N-no, I'm not!" Alfred blush went from being slight to deep crimson.

A shiver ran down his spine when Arthur licked him. He buried his face in the punk's chest again and realized that he was a little jealous. It got under his skin a bit; not just about Zach, but Francis too. In an attempt to divert the punk's attention, Alfred did the most embarrassing thing he could think of at the time. He ground his hips into Arthur's.

Arthur laughed warmly, "Are you sure? If you are you can tell.. I mea-"

The punk shut his eyes tightly when he felt Alfred against him. He shivered and suddenly he was speechless, the only thing he ended up letting out of his shaking lips with a little moan. He fell a bit back in the bed

Warmth shot through Alfred's body with Arthur's moan echoing in his mind. He kissed his angel's throat again, his eyes half-lidded. He was hyper-aware of every little movement and sound issuing from the stunning man under him. He hadn't expected this reaction, but the thought of hearing that delectable sound again was irresistible. Smirking into Arthur's throat, he moved his hips again; more delicately this time, yet enough that the sensation was acutely there. Alfred moved up to kiss his angel.

"So what if I am?" he murmured seductively.

Arthur arched his chest forward, his eyes closed before opening them slowly. This… this felt… amazing. He had heard about how it felt to get touched by the one you love, but this… He had never thought it would feel this good. When he felt another, more delicate move, his moan became sweeter, lustier. "Aaah..! Ha.. I-I.. D-Don't.. Know.. Ha.." God, the way Alfred mumbled was sexy. Everything was perfect…

"Arthur," he moaned into his angel's ear.

When the punk had moved, it'd forced him to put some pressure on his wrists. He knew he couldn't keep this up for much longer. Carefully, he rolled over so that when he ended up on his back, Arthur was still between his legs. Lust reflected in his sky blue eyes.

Arthur moved away, down. Alfred almost whimpered when the punk moved away; he didn't want to lose this feeling. The punk undressed Alfred for him, much to the American's surprise. Soon enough, Alfred's clothes were thrown unceremoniously to the floor and he'd lowered himself back to the bed. Arthur didn't care... He kissed down Alfred's body, licking, sucking until he reached Alfred's member. Small, elicit moans escape him as he watched Arthur make his way further down. His hand firmly grabbed around it as he pumped, licking the head slowly, teasingly, he watched Alfred's reactions. Alfred's back arched as his angel grabbed him.

"A-Ah.." he moaned louder and pleaded, "Arthur….d-don't tease."

Arthur slowly stroked the member, slowly and firmly. Once in a while he kissed the tip then smirked.

"You are such an idiot, you know... stealing my first kiss, thinking I will be with you right away and I beat you because of it and now... I'm so madly in love. Bloody hell," he laughed before sucking the head, his tongue rubbing against the head, "Mngh…"

Clenching the pillow, the American panted, "G-god, you're still caught up on that? …It was my first, too."

Alfred hadn't meant for that to slip out. Confessing it brought all the reasons to the forefront of his mind. He'd been hesitant about being physically close to anyone. Now, he was lying unabashed and stark naked on Arthur's bed, lusting after every part of him. He had to fight the urge to buck his hips upward. It was almost as if he'd been branded around his navel, but there was pleasure there instead of pain. He'd never felt this way before.

Arthur took more of the member into his mouth, sucking it, now roughly and he continued for a while before he smiled, kissed his groin and pulled away.

"If you want more, you have to deserve it… what can you offer?" he asked, chucking softly as he licked his lips.

Though… even if they were going to have sex, Arthur had a problem. He was afraid; afraid of almost everything. Showing himself, getting looked at… all kinds of stuff. The thoughts panicked him.

Alfred had been so close when Arthur pulled away, it hurt. He would have complained, but then he saw the look in his angel's eyes. The fear in them put him off almost completely. Worry overcame everything else as he pinned his arms to his chest and sat upright.

"Arthur, are you alright?" he asked, caressing the other's cheek.

Arthur sighed. "I... I wanted sex. I wanted to have you close, but," he paused and looked down, "My body is ugly. I don't want anyone to look at me when I am so… weak. So… nude. W-What if you laughed at me? W-What if…" Arthur couldn't find words.

For a moment, Alfred couldn't bring him to say anything. He'd been warring with himself on one matter that had haunted him the same way. A few years back, he'd refused Francis. The older boy had made sure that he'd never forget. Alfred had just gotten out of the shower when the snob had come at him with a knife and a vengeance. Thin, white scars webbed across his back from that night. He knew what it was like to be laughed at for such things. Arthur's trembling voice bolstered his conviction.

"There is no one else in this world that I would rather be with, Arthur," he said with absolute certainty, then choked up a little, "L-look at my back."

Arthur blinked twice, sighing, "Me too, Al," he blinked again. Why? What? He did as Alfred told him do and bit his lip. "What… happened?" he asked, lowering his brow.

"Francis… back when we were in high school," Alfred murmured, "He'd wanted something I wasn't willing to give up until now…"

He looked at Arthur adoringly, pushing the bitter memory from his mind. There was someone much more important in front of him now. Alfred pulled his angel into a sweet kiss; his eyes shone with true happiness.

"I could never think of you as ugly or weak," he smiled.

Afterward:
*hides behind my pillow fort* Nothing major just yet... maybe next time. In the mean time, all violent posts will be met with a plushie grenade.