Written for USUK Summer Camp 2012

July 30: I Won't Say I'm In Love

I Won't Say I'm In Love

By HamburgerWithTea

/Summary/

After a drunken fit rage of his English friend, Francis decides it's time for a meet up to let Arthur admit to his feelings towards a certain American Wonder Boy. The other, though, still denies everything related to love, even as the Wonder Boy himself shows up…

Arthur didn't want to go to the small coffee shop at the corner of the shopping mall, but he had to anyways. Francis had insisted on meeting him after his drunken rant last night about a certain blond American.

Not only was Arthur not in the mood to talk about it all, he also was bloody hung over and couldn't care less about anything in the world but for the headache to stop. He'd woken up rather uncomfortably with his neck in a weird angle while lying on the couch and whenever he looked to the right now, it would hurt. Today was a horrid day.

As he got closer and closer to the coffee shop in question, he checked his watch to make sure he wasn't too early. He liked being rather early most of the time but being too early and sitting alone, waiting, would be embarrassing. Apparently he was on time though.

The small bell on top of the door rang as he opened it to step inside the nice air-conditioned place. Arthur was happy there was air conditioner, unlike his own home, because outside the heat was almost unbearable. He'd never been one to like the heat.

After a quick look around the shop, it seemed the Frenchman wasn't there yet, so instead he dropped down on one of the corner seats, facing the door. He was sitting beside a window, but the window seemed to be somewhat darker than usual considering not many people looked at him, as they would if the glass had been very transparent.

Soon after he sat down in the not-too-crowded coffee shop, a waitress came by his table to ask if he wanted anything to drink. Arthur figured he could use some proper tea and ordered the beverage as he grabbed his head, willing for the headache to go away. He hated his stupid drinking habits.

He always knew at the start of the first beer it would end up like this and that he'd hate himself for it and that he'd promise himself to never drink this much again, but eventually he ended up doing it all over again.

Last night had been awful. He barely remembered what happened but after a long night of drinking and having 'fun' with friends, mostly consisting of embarrassing himself -which he wouldn't have remembered if his friends didn't constantly bring up-, he'd eventually called Francis to rage.

Arthur didn't know why or how it happened but at one point he'd started raging about Alfred, a young American he'd met at his job. Arthur currently worked as a waiter himself-though he had a day off for today—and the American had been coming by ever since the first time they met, claiming he enjoyed the company of the big-browed man.

At first, Arthur had refused to sit with the man-who first came to visit with friends, but eventually came on his own—when he'd asked. But during a lazy day at the ship, it had been abandoned except for the American. Eventually, he found he couldn't refuse and ended up sitting opposite from the man.

Soon he learnt the American's, who's accent he recognised immediately, name was Alfred F. Jones as the other had greeted him with a firm handshake and he added that he was a 'true hero'. The man was rather masculine, with broad shoulders and his blond hair and blue eyes mad him look vibrant and handsome.

Despite his grown-up looks, his clothes, habits and personality showed that he was actually as really childish. Arthur used to frown upon the stupid remarks the other would make but eventually he'd found himself not minding that much. And that's where it got weird and scary.

Arthur had never, ever before acted this open to another person and despite enjoying his time, he found it to be something scary. It was weird to see how a complete stranger managed to become his loyal and trusted friend in just a few weeks. Arthur tried to distance himself from the other, who eventually ended up asking him what was wrong, but nothing helped. He kept coming back to the other to ask for advice or have a nice chat up.

Even if Arthur wasn't the one to start a conversation, Alfred would make sure to pass by even more often and soon even invite him over to his humble home. Alfred's house had been as mess, as Arthur expected, but he'd found it to be comfortable and calm. Alfred had even cooked them dinner, and Arthur had been all but surprised about the other's eating habits and size of stomach.

They'd started to talk more and more and by now they'd know each other for three months. Alfred was in the United Kingdom in order to take care of some business of his dad's, who apparently was some rich business man. He rather liked it in England, he'd said, so he decided to settle around the area for a bit longer.

Sometimes he'd comment on British culture and call it all strange, which would result in Arthur claiming he was actually the strange one, which they both end up laughing over. Which was another thing for Arthur to worry about.

He'd never ever in his life been so quickly to laugh about jokes, especially not jokes about his own country. He took pride in being British, English even, and would do anything to make others think it was the perfect country as well, but for some reason, he accepted jokes about it from Alfred.

It was all weird and new, and Arthur didn't even know what was happening. And apparently, if he remembered correctly, that was exactly what he'd told the Frenchman last night.

The Frog, as how he preferred to name the French bastard, had been asking him for a while what was wrong and when he'd fallen in love. Arthur couldn't remember falling in love any time and told Francis, but apparently the other didn't believe him, claiming love could be seen in Arthur's eyes.

Arthur had found it all bollocks as he'd told him last time, when he eventually ended up smashing half a glass of water in the face of the other, and had not spoken with the other since then. That incident had occurred about three weeks ago and he had to admit that in the mean time he'd missed the annoying presence of the other.

But yesterday he'd called him and that's why he was here now, grateful for the late time the other had come up with so Arthur could sleep until he felt sober enough.

The Briton was suddenly awoken from his daydream by a familiar greeting.

"Bonjour!" The obviously French voice said, as someone took place in the chair opposite from him, "Now, how have you been?" Francis tried to start casual, as usual. Arthur knew he wasn't one to ever hold a grudge against Arthur, unlike Arthur did to the Frenchman. The other seemed to wave off any of Arthur's outbursts which was probably why Francis was one of his few friends.

Not many people liked him. Arthur had sometimes difficulty expressing himself in embarrassing situations and he knew it, but despite the knowledge he still found it hard to react properly and ended up saying things he didn't mean. So far only two people had ever truly understood and waved it off; Francis and Alfred.

Francis mostly because he just was the guy to do so, Arthur had to admit. He was a loyal friend, though a bit annoying. Some would mistake him for being a perverted bastard but Arthur knew better; more than once he'd helped the Briton to get out of a nasty situation and eventually they'd even had a stable relationship for some time. Both their similarities and differences eventually made them break up though as they realised this was never meant to be. Luckily they still stayed friends, up to today.

Arthur figured that in Alfred's case it was mostly his naivety that kept him from abandoning the Briton and go back to his other friends instead. The younger man seemed to believe that the world could be saved by heroes and that despite all sadness, everything have a good end. Arthur could admire yet hate this view of life; he knew it'd be lovely if it was to be true, but deep down he believed nothing could ever be fully perfect.

Eventually after a long talk about it all, Alfred had even promised to be his hero in order to save him from anything mean in life. Arthur had chuckled and waved it off as a stupid joke.

"Mon cher?" could suddenly be heard and Arthur realised he'd been spacing out again. He really needed to grab himself together and stop to randomly daydream at any time. It really was a terribly habit.

"Huh, what?" Arthur asked, blinking a few times with his eyes as he lifted his head up from where it'd been resting on his hand.

"Oh you," Francis said, "Dreaming about Wonder Boy again?" A sly smirk appeared on the Frog's face as he brought a hand up to touch his beard. The guy really seemed to think he was on to something.

"N-no way!" Arthur hadn't meant to stutter, "I don't even know any 'Wonder Boy' you speak of." He scoffed and looked away, out of the window.

"Really now?" Francis asked, "Not even a certain blond, blue-eyed, young American with quite a mutual affection to you?"

"What are you implying, frog?" Arthur asked, eyes growing smaller and making eye contact. He knew his face was slightly blushing due to its heat, and the small skip his heart made at the words 'mutual affection' he couldn't deny, but that wasn't something the Frenchman had to know.

"Oh nothing," the other waved it off, as the coffee he'd ordered earlier on arrived, "Just that someone out there might be thinking as much of you as you think of him…"

"I don't think of Alfred that way!" Arthur said in a quick, almost aggressive, whisper. There was no way that could be. No way!

"You don't?" The smirk on the other's face grew wider, "That's not what you told me last night. You said you got weird a tingling feeling in your stomach around him, thought of him all the time, and even blamed him for your accident of over-pouring someone's coffee last time at your job. Really now, Arthur, you want to deny it?"

"I have every reason to deny it!" Arthur said, fully red-faced now, "I'm most definitely not in love with Alfred! You met him, he's too childish, too naïve, and even lives on the other side of the pond. Even if I did like him there is no way we could be together, he'll move back there in just a few weeks, you'll see, and eventually forget all about me."

The more Arthur got to the end of the sentence, the more bitter he sounded. He knew he'd miss the other; they'd become great friends and for Arthur, it was really special to ever get a new friend. He didn't want to lose him, ever, but he knew it'd happen some day. He knew the other would forget him as soon as he arrived in the US.

"C'mon now don't deny it, dear Arthur, I know he's the one you're thinking of. Even if you try to keep it hidden!" the Frenchman leaned in closely and talked softly, trying to make the other admit to his feelings, but no luck there.

"No way! I won't say I'm in love just because you want me to! I've had too many of these bollocks relationships and I refuse to ever fall in love again. And don't you dare tell me it's a matter of fate, I won't fall for it!" Arthur stood up and as ready to leave the place, sick with Francis' prying, but was shocked as he saw a familiar face from the other side of the window.

As he turned his head to the right, pain shot though his neck –damn sleeping position!- and he was all but excited about seeing that one face, Alfred's face.

A quick gesture of Francis' hand made the American nod and walk towards the door, willing to enter the shop.

"Francis you wanker," Arthur whispered furiously, "Why did you do that? Why did you invite him over?" but before the other could answer, the American man settled down right next to Arthur, greeting them loudly.

"Arthur!" He said, "How wonderful to see you and Francis are on good terms again!" Alfred had met Francis once but thanks to Arthur's talks and complaints about the frog it felt as if the American knew the other well. Alfred had once even said to Arthur that it was almost as if they were a married couple, bickering about everything yet staying close together at all times of life.

"So," Alfred started, "What were you guys talking about?" a wide grin showed on his face and Arthur couldn't help but stare at it and eventually smile a bit himself.

"Oh actually it's something quite interesting, dear Alfred," Francis said, "You see, we were just talking about how Arthur just won't admit his feeli-,"

"Frog!" Arthur said loud enough to cut the other off, "Shut it you arse, or I'll kick you out of the place. And no, Alfred, we weren't talking about anything in particular. This man here is just making things up." He just hoped he sounded convincing.

"Okay…" Alfred said, obviously a bit suspicious. Why won't Alfred's obliviousness kick in at the moments it was useful? "So, uhm Artie got any plans this Saturday?" Francis smirked at the other side of the table as he watched the scene unfold for now.

"Uhm, not yet." Arthur replied, looking at his hands on the table. He felt strangely nervous and his hands were currently meddling around with the empty tea cup.

"Care for a movie? You see, I saw an ad for this super awesome action movie and it's got awesome effects I think, it'll be so cool to see and since I only got two tickets and you're my best friend around town, I figured I should ask you!" Alfred rambled. 'Best Friend', Arthur liked that. And maybe it was his imagination but he could swear Alfred sounded at least as nervous as Arthur felt.

"S-sure," The Briton said, trying to look up in the hopeful and excited blue eyes next to him.

"C'mon, mon cher, don't be shy. Just admit it." Francis' voice said from the other side of the table. Arthur was a bit shocked as he realised the Frog was still with them, "Face it like a grown-up."

"Face what?" Alfred asked curiously but Arthur ignored him.

"Get off my case, will you?" He raised his voice just a tab bit, "Just… There's just no chance of me ever saying that, ever!"

"Don't try deny it, Arthur, I know you really lo-"

"Francis!" Arthur said, his voice somewhat begging, "Shut up!" the last part was a whisper but still loud enough to hear for both.

"Arthur? Love?" Alfred asked, curiously, "Who's the lucky one?" His voice almost sounded a bit excited yet worried.

"Oh," Francis said, "Just a certain guy, kind of like yourself even." The Frenchman suggested as he lifted one eyebrow hoping the other would get the hint. Of course the American didn't, he was too dense for that.

"Really?" Alfred sounded so excited by now that it was almost adorable to witness. It was as if a kid got the toy he wanted the most after staring at it in shop windows for ages, "What's his name? How does he look? How long have you known him?" Alfred started to ask question, facing both Francis and Arthur, the latter having the reddest face the taller blond had ever seen.

"As I said," Francis replied, "Kind of like yourself. Same built, height, eyes-…"

"Shut up, Frog!" Arthur said loudly, "Okay, okay I admit it, I might of have a tiny little crush on Alfred and I'm stupid for having one and I know it'll never work out and I just embarrassed myself in public so please excuse me as I leave the place now!" Arthur knew he was rambling but he didn't know what else to make of it. At least he hadn't been too pathetic to wait for Francis to confess for him- that was a girlish thing to do.

"Wait!" Alfred said, grabbing his wrist as he was about to walk off. Arthur turned around and found the other looking him in the eyes as the taller man also stood up, only to be both watched closely by a pain of French eyes.

"Wait," The American repeated, "You, you said it won't ever work out," A small blush was showing up on his face as well, "But, I'd like to try it out first. Please go on a date with me this Saturday."

Alfred sounded determined as he kept looking the other in the eyes, not caring about any of their surroundings. He'd been wanting to confess to Arthur since several weeks ago-he even was the reason as to why he'd decided to stay in the UK for longer than originally planned, and this was his chance.

He'd been planning to confess on Saturday but with the things as they are now, it seemed this was a better moment to do so.

"Please." He repeated again, still staring in the other's emerald eyes.

"A-all right then," Arthur nodded, "Saturday it is. How late?"

"Eight o'clock?" Alfred asked, both seemed to calm down though their hearts were still beating rapidly and their ears were as red as can be.

"Sounds lovely."

Francis watched over them as their conversation occurred. He knew they were perfect for each other, better than Francis and Arthur had ever been, and even though Arthur still won't say he'd 'in love', Francis knew that wouldn't take much time. After all, the heart's 'amour' had always been stronger than the mind's denial.

THANKS TO THE WONDERFUL NUTTY FOR BETAING!

/Author's Note/

Okay, again as always, turned out less awesome than expected.

Well at least it's there; a new story! :D I'm back from France, took a lot of pictures and had a nice time there (despite some bitchy girls my age I decided to refuse talking to which ended up with me reading gayporn on my mobile instead, oh how I love social gatherings /pleasenotethesarcasmhere/)

I will upload some of the pictures on my photography tumblr entitled HWTpictures ,oh how lame of a title. It's not much, but I just enjoy putting them up :3

Please look for as many song references as possible in these fics, I enjoy putting them in there ;D

Also it's not that I fit Francis in because I went to France, I had this planned ages ago. This fic shows about half of the main headcanon I have about Francis in relation to USUK and how he thinks about them as a couple.

I hope you enjoyed, reviews are the most precious things on earth for a writer, and maybe care check out the photo's when I bother to upload them?

Bye :D

I do not own Hetalia or the characters, those belong to their rightful (awesome) creator, Hidekaz Himaruya!

(07/26/12)