Still only dressed in his American flag boxers Alfred slowly moved down the stairs the pepper spray was held out in front of him. He clicked on the flash light and slowly opened the front door. Lying in hundreds of pieces was Alfred's brand new wooden mailbox pole, the metal mailbox was hanging in a near by tree just out of his sight. However, it was the man dressed up in a cheep looking angel costume is what caused Alfred's jaw to drop. The man was holding a broken bottle of liquor in his hand, Alfred walked over to him and jabbed him it the rib cage with the end of his flash light. The drunk moaned and rolled over onto his side and snuggled with the broken bottle. It was right then that he saw that the wings were real and clearly damaged from his fall, the feathers were bent at strange angles.

"Well I'll be damned!" Alfred mumbled his southern accent showing a little. The angel sat up and went to take a drink from the bottle, once he finished it off his fuzzy gaze turned to Alfred.

"Shit, I must be in hell there a naked man." The angel mumbled with a heavy British accent. Alfred couldn't help but to grin, not only did he have a real angel on his yard but also he had a drunk British angel on his yard.

"Sorry buddy but your in America. You know land of the free home of the brave!"

"Well holy fuck that's even worst." The drunken angel crossed his arms and pouted. Alfred blinked and kind of hoped to himself that this would just be another dream. The angel's mood then made a sudden change as he smiled seductively at him. Alfred on the other hand was to busy trying not to stare at the angel's eyebrows to notice the strange grin.

"You know you're an American your pretty damn hot." Alfred really could not believe it now. Not only was the angel drunk and British but he was gay to.

"Aright buddy let's get your fucking drunk ass inside before someone see you." Alfred helped him onto his feet and started to drag him to the door. His boxers were riding way to low for his likening. The angel grumbled and didn't even try to walk at all. He liked watching the almost naked American struggle that and he was also hoping that those boxers would fall completely off.

"My name is Arthur you bloody wanker ,not buddy!" Arthur grumbled and he was finally pulled all the way inside the house. Alfred pulled him onto the couch and wrapped him up in a blanket. He left the room to get the angel a glass of water. Alfred also used this to be able to see what time it was, it was 3:35 am. He handed the glass to Arthur who stared at it plainly before taking a sip. Once the glass was gone, Arthur smiled and wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck and pulled him on top of himself. For being drunk out of his mind, he still had a pretty damn good grip.

"Come on fucker let's shag." Arthur whispered into Alfred's ear before biting it hardly.

"You're going to feel so God damn stupid when you relies what you're saying." The American wiggled free and noticed a red stain on Arthur's white robe. He grumbled knowing that the robe was all once piece and that the drunk was totally going to get the wrong idea on what he was going to have to do. The angel tried to make another move but Alfred forcefully shoved him back down onto the couch. With out even telling Arthur what he was going to do Alfred started to pull off the angel's clothes.

"It's about time you twit. Hurry up and get me to a bed, oh and lose the knickers!"

"I'm not going to fuck you! Now keep still your little fall from cloud nine got you hurt." Alfred said and tossed the bloody fabric off to the side. There was a long cut going across the angel's torso. The cut wasn't beep but an inch long splinter of wood was causing it to bleed more then it should have. Arthur looked at the cut and went pale; it wasn't possible for angels still under God's care to be wounded.

"Oh shit no! Bloody hell pull it out!" The British angel could not bring himself to look away from the blood, he stopped moving completely. His fingers gripped the material of the blanket as Alfred grabbed the splinter with the tips of his fingers. He pulled it out and few droplets of blood fell onto his carpet. The American smiled at the confused and startled look on the British's man face. Arthur still wasn't able to bring himself to look away. He was so confused as to why he was bleeding like a living human. Alfred told him something and left the room. The drunk didn't hear a word that the American said. Alfred dug around in the bathroom cabinets looking for anything that could help the damn bleeding British angel. However, he had no idea on what to do. He grabbed some rubbing alcohol and a washcloth. Alfred used rubbing alcohol for every kind a cut he got because it didn't foam up. Arthur peeked his head into the room he had left a very small droplet trail of blood behind him. He was going to ask if he could get something to wear but Alfred turned to him and yelled at him to get back on the couch.

"Alright Arthur let's see if we can fix you up." Alfred then dumped the whole bottle onto the cut. Arthur thinking that it was water freaked out. He fell to the floor holding his stomach and screaming a colorful amount of cuss words. The angel refused to let the American touch him, he rolled up into a ball and started to sob like a small child who tripped and scrapped their knee. It took a while for him to calm down and when he finally did Alfred placed him back onto the couch.

"Move your hands. I'm not going to hurt you." He smiled and pulled the angel's hands off the cut. The bleed has slowed down and Alfred was able to patch it up rather quickly. Arthur was still sobbing as he sat there. He looked at Alfred with bight green eyes.

"Thanks for your help." Was what he said before he cupped the sides of Alfred's face and kissed him softly. Alfred jumped but didn't pull away something about the kiss felt so right. Before he even knew it his was kissing the angel back only with force. However, Arthur was the one who stopped the kiss when he flopped over limply to his side fast asleep. Alfred covered him with the blanket and made his way back up stairs. His hand touched his lips he could still taste the Brit on them. Alfred crawled under his blankets and prayed that this would all be over in the morning.

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