Fic: Beyond the Pale (6/9)
Title: Beyond the Pale
Author/Artist: DestinyShiva a.k.a me.
Characters/Pairing: USUK, slight FrUK, slight UKCan. (Mainly England and America, but the G8 + Lithuania + Poland are present too!)
Rating: Chapters 1 - 8... T. Chapters 9... M.
Warnings: Boys love, blood, pretty hardcore yaoi in the last chapter... and France being France.
Summary: Rushing through the streets of London, Arthur tries to leave the horrific argument he had with America/Alfred behind; though danger takes an ominous form. Soon Arthur's blood is spilled and England can only remember one name... Alfred.
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Beyond the Pale (Chapter 6/9)
I'm a little worried about this chapter, because it's the number one spanner in the works for America and England.
Now, back to the fiction:
I was obsessed with one song constantly while writing… 'Run to You' by The Rasmus. I've decided that this song is the non-official theme song of Beyond the Pale xD!! It fits so well! Go listen!
Guilty to a Crime Against Myself
It was strange, wasn't it? The correlation between the people and the actual countries seemed to be absolutely uncanny, and this proved it. Several weird accidents had been occurring all around the United Kingdom; the most prominent of which was the quite devastating earth quake that hit the left upper regions of England on the late evening of the fourth of July. It was one of the strongest that England had in recorded history apparently.
Another weird event was the sudden heat wave that blasted through the western side of England, and in particular Manchester - where the temperature peaked at 35 degrees centigrade on the fifth.
The final one was the most concerning however, though it was quite easy to miss unless you gave it a second glance. For three days straight, uninterrupted, the midlands had been covered with absolutely terrible threatening thunder storms. It was true that the entirety of England was enclosed by rainclouds, but that one concentrated spot in the heart was the only to be struck by lightning at all… and one constant unending thunderstorm in the exact same spot was something that should have been considered impossible. But it happened.
The media obviously had gotten their hands on the information that Arthur Kirkland, a.k.a. England, was in hospital for head injuries (thankfully they hadn't been told about the Amnesia) after a while. Immediately they decided to make the connection between the man and the country, especially when it came to the earthquake in the north.
"For privacy reasons, we cannot mention which hospital Arthur Kirkland has been submitted to; however we are currently in the process of requesting an exclusive inside interview. The doctors have informed us that Arthur is stable and seems to be making a speedy recovery. Don't forget to email or text in with your opinions on this event! More on this story later, back to the studio."
Matthew torn his eyes away from the television suspended in the window of the shop and continued walking down the street towards the hospital. He shivered bitterly, wishing that the heat wave that was striking the western side of England would bother to come over to London - where it was pouring with rain and absolutely freezing. Why did British summers have to be so annoyingly unpredictable? When he breathed out, he was almost certain that he could see his breath solidify with frost in the air. Seriously…! The British have weird weather patterns.
Matthew reached the hospital; the news story still echoing in his mind. The news was being ridiculous of course. It was all a coincidence, he was certain of it. They didn't make it sound unbelievably convincing - unending rain, heat waves, and bizarre concentrated storms in England's heart? It didn't sound like Arthur… far too rash for the gentleman's conscience. It was silly…
The storm in his heart… that part in particular was the most ridiculous. Alfred was practically screaming of joy down the phone yesterday after he visited Arthur - he was so happy that Matthew found it hard to interpret that the hell Alfred was saying… but one part came very clearly. 'He said he loved me'. Matthew knew what had happened immediately. Surely, Arthur would have been happy by that, wouldn't he?
He was glad for his brother; extortionately so. Matthew had never mentioned it, but he was able to tell that Alfred was bitterly obsessed with Arthur's affections for a long time. Alfred was just like a little child; playing up constantly to gain the attentions of another. That always worked, Matthew smiled sweetly to himself, and Arthur had always given Alfred the attention he craved. Whether the attention was good or bad, they always ended up crossing each other's paths. They shared a devotion to each other from the very beginning. It was only a matter of time before they both realised that the devotion was, simply, love.
Matthew hugged the air absently, completely forgetting that he had left Kumajoru (or was it Kumajishi?) back at the hotel room. A hospital wouldn't be very impressed if he attempted to bring a polar bear in with him after all… not that they would have noticed him carrying it anyway. Inside the reception, Matthew spoke to a pretty young nurse… or at least he tried to. The nurse ended up walking straight past him and ignoring his total existence, until he literally leapt in her way. Even then, she only noticed him because she very almost tripped. No one ever noticed him…
He hadn't had any need to worry about those English drunkards the day before; although he was absolutely quivering with fear, had to walk straight in their way, accidentally bumped into one of the burliest and most terrifying men in the group, looked directly at his girlfriend, and knocked over someone's can of Carlsburg… not a single person reacted to his presence. He didn't know what was worse... getting beaten to a pulp, or being so completely ignored that he might as well not have existed.
No one ever noticed him. He wanted to get out of London as soon as possible, but that was impossible while Alfred continued to insist on staying. He couldn't have simply gotten the plane by his self. The last time he travelled alone, someone actually sat on him without realising he was there. No one ever noticed him…
He began to ponder whether metal detectors would ignore his presence, and whether it was possible for him to get into an airport with some illegal items without getting caught at all. He wouldn't have been surprised. He sighed as he finished scaling the stairs to the second floor at the nurse's instructions (she initially said the third floor, but quickly changed her mind. He hoped he picked the right place… she didn't sound very convincing at all), and headed down the corridor.
It was frustrating… the drunkards of Great Britain, nurses, people at airports, other countries, even his own polar bear Kumajurou - all of them never paid any attention to him. He mumbled a few incoherent swear words to himself, cursing Alfred for being so damned bold in the world while he stayed forgotten… and pushed the door to Arthur's ward open after he gave a small (hardly audible) knock.
No one ever noticed him. But…
…Arthur noticed him.
Matthew gave Arthur a sweet smile, to which the older nation gave a shocked frown. Arthur was sitting cross-legged in one of the chairs that surrounded his bedside; a book leaned open in his lap, propped open by spanned fingers, and what Matthew immediately interpreted as tea in an endearingly charming pink porcelain tea cup. Slammed his tea down, spilling a drop of the amber nectar, and discarded the book to the empty bed without any regard for its neatness. That was uncharacteristic of Arthur… the man was practically obsessed with making sure no books in his possession were bent in the slightest. 'Books should be appreciated to the every last word, and that means every page should be flawless!' Matthew nibbled his lip as he watched Arthur go back on his own demanding words. He must have been distracted.
Why? Did he remember him or something? …No. Whoever would remember him?
"You… You came back."
"What?" Matthew murmured as Arthur stepped several paces closer; his face had gone scarlet, flooding with unforeseen emotions. The Englishman was practically shaking, but a soft smile peaked at his lips. Matthew blinked as those earthly emerald green eyes shone with a weird happiness he had never seen brimming inside Arthur before.
"I thought you would never come back. You rejected me… didn't you?" Arthur muttered as he slowly approached his close proximity. Now both parties were shaking. Matthew continued to blink in shock. 'Rejected'? But he didn't do anything like that… What was Arthur talking about?
"Eh?"
"If you came back… that… that means…" Arthur stuttered, dropping his head and removed a bead of moisture dwelling in the corner of his eye. Arthur… was crying? Matthew watched in awe as more moisture built and finally a small glistening line ran down his cheeks. He cursed and wiped it away with his hand. "…Does that mean, you do care, Alfred?"
It finally made sense. Arthur was mistaking him for his brother. It was an easy fault to make, wasn't it? They looked amazingly similar... people would not have been able to tell the difference between them; if it wasn't for his slightly longer hair and the polar bear he usually carried in his hands. He couldn't have blamed Arthur for not realising, especially when he was still suffering from Amnesia. But he did hate being mistaken for his brother. He loathed it… He raised his hands in defence when Arthur came even closer.
"Oh no - I'm n-"
Matthew's eyes widened as he felt Arthur's finger stroke his chin and quickly pull it to his level… and the soft lips of the Englishman brushed against his. He backed up against the closed door in shock as Arthur pulled him into a seductively hungry kiss. The door rattling and complaining as it took the force of the retreating Canadian and the lovesick Englishman pushed against it. Matthew stood limp from the astonishment, as Arthur desperately clung to him - his soft gentlemanly hands slipping around his back and brought him into a sweet, loving embrace. He watched Arthur's expression as he administered to him the most furious passion that the Englishman could muster. His face was embarrassed and red, and his closed eyes were erupting with floods of tears. Matthew lost himself, sold to those adoring tears. For a moment, he kissed back… tasting Arthur, submitting fervently, as their tongues sought each other. Arthur brought back his hands, stroking the side of his flushing red cheek slowly with one… while the other found itself rubbing hungrily through his hair.
Oh, Arthur noticed him.
Arthur snapped his eyes open, and both parties pushed apart from each other. They panted for air simultaneously, exhausted from the seemingly never-ending kiss. Matthew stayed put, frozen in the position that Arthur forced him into against the door, paralysed by the poisonous thrill… while the British nation stumbled backwards, eyes as wide as the Canadian's when he felt Arthur's delicious lips for the first ever time…
…But the kiss wasn't for him.
It was for Alfred.
"You're… Y-You're not Alfred, are you?" Arthur stammered; backing up so much that his back collided with the metal frame of the bed several feet away. Matthew watched Arthur as he began shaking once again, out of fear more than overcome with ecstatic passion. Matthew didn't know what to say. He was too shocked, with both the sudden gesture and himself. Why did he have to begin kissing back? The taste of the Englishman lingered as a ghost on his lips; cold clinging to him now that it was over, buzzing with the persistent sensation. He shook his head.
"I'm his brother. Matthew… Canada." He said in an even quieter voice than usual, spoken as an almost inaudible whisper. The Englishman heard. How could he not? The room was plunged into the coldest of silences.
"F-Fuck." Arthur spoke bitterly. Both parties were so stunned that they could no longer move, and words were not coming to either's mind. They remained there for several minutes, without a single flinch or word spoken to break that bewildered stillness.
"I'm sorry." Arthur finally managed to plead. "That was supposed to be for Alfred… I'm sorry…"
Matthew bit his lip and merely nodded.
"Don't… Don't tell Alfred. Please…" Arthur really was pleading. Matthew watched quizzically. He had never seen Arthur show any unexpected weakness before… but then, he had never seen Arthur try being romantic at all. It was a territory he never crossed into until then. Matthew nodded obediently again.
Why… did that kiss have to be the most fantastic he had ever had? He couldn't tear his mind away from that beloved ferocity that Arthur imbued upon him. Matthew opened the door of the ward quickly, desperate to run away as quickly as possible. Arthur didn't tell him to wait, staying absolutely immobilised over in his spot. Matthew shot out of the room and quickly shut the door behind him - his thoughts finally becoming coherent again.
Arthur…ARTHUR… kissed him. So passionately that he couldn't remove the sensations of it from his mind. That was one hell of a kiss.
Alfred was one hell of a lucky guy.
A sudden noise erupted behind the door; a chime from Arthur's mobile phone, no doubt. Amazing Grace echoed through the ward's fourth walls, and Matthew could hear the fumbles as the Englishman tried frantically to find it. The Canadian didn't know why he didn't move himself from the other side of the door, which he was propped up against only a few minutes previously - getting the God damned best kiss of his life. He was still frozen… but at least he didn't have to look at Arthur's terrified expression, all filled with the dregs of tears.
"…France?" Arthur muttered into the phone when the 'king of losing things' finally managed to find it in the secluded room. Matthew could tell from his strained voice that he was panicking; even more than he was. "Yes, I'm upset… I just did the most stupid thing in my life, how could I not be bloody upset by that?"
Matthew peered through the crack of the door. Arthur was pacing anxiously; his hand clutching the area of his injury. Matthew could hear the inaudible murmurs of the Frenchman on the other side of the phone, but he wasn't able to interpret what he was saying at all.
"God yes. I'll tell you what happened later. France… Francis… I need to get out of here. Quickly. I've got to get out of here." Arthur muttered again and again. The voice on the other side lowered his volume, and Matthew could tell that the tone had significantly changed. "That's fine…Thank you. I'll be ready. It doesn't matter where you take me. Just get me out of here. And don't tell Alfred a thing.
What, Alfred? Alfred… he's going to hate me. I love him Francis. I can't handle him hating me. I can't handle this at all. Don't you dare tell him a thing! Just take me away, okay?! Yes, fine, just you and me. Anywhere, you french frog-faced git! I'll go anywhere…"
That.
That was not good.
What was Francis trying to do? Matthew couldn't believe that whatever Francis was planning would just be about simple, harmless comfort. If it was someone other than Arthur, maybe he could have believed him. But Matthew knew it. He grew up with Francis taking care of him, and he was smart enough to notice these things. He wanted Arthur… badly… for centuries and centuries on end. When it came to Arthur, Francis's mind never was innocent.
Matthew got up and ran. He couldn't take listening to Arthur foolishly getting himself intertwined with Francis for a single second longer. He snatched up his own mobile phone from his pocket and retreated into a men's toilet, before dialling the first number on his contact list. (Damn Alfred for having the first name to appear alphabetically - Alfred always loved it; bragging that he was 'Number 1'. That was infuriating). Matthew looked around to make sure that no one else was in the bathroom, before he retreated into a cubicle for a little more secluded privacy.
The echoes of the kiss still remained on his lips. Matthew brushed his finger along it before he finally heard his obnoxious brother's voice on the other end of the line.
"Mattie! How are you! You're lucky you caught me… I just got out of the shower. I've been getting ready for going to the hospital. Are you already there? I'll be there in a sec. I was going to stop off at McDonalds on the way though and get some hamburgers… you know they just call it 'burgers' here? That's weird isn't it? They also call trash cans 'bins' and sidewalk 'pavement'… how weird is that! The English are funny. I'll get you a happy meal if you want! So! Hi, are you okay? Why did you call me?"
Matthew stood, stunned that his brother could say all of that in practically one breath… but then, he could eat about fifteen burgers without pausing to breathe at all. "Forget the McDonalds Alfred. You need to get down here, quickly."
"Eh? What's with that stressed tone Mattie? You sound kind of upset. Arthur wasn't being a meanie, was he?" Alfred laughed heartily.
"No. It's something else…"
"Well?"
"He thought I was you… Matt bit his lip unhappily, nibbling away where it had swollen from the induced pressure. "…And he kissed me."
"What? He… thought you were me and kissed you? Wow. Never would have thought that Arty would be so bold. Kudos to him."
"You're not upset that he kissed me?"
"No. It was a mistake, wasn't it? I'll just punch him in the mouth later for you, okay? I'll be there in a second if you're that worried. But you'll be paying for my happy meal afterwards. I'm hungry!"
"Alfred… You might not be upset. But he is." Matthew whispered confidentially into the phone. "England thinks you'll hate him. He asked France to come take him away. France will be here any moment. He asked him not to say a word. And France wants it to be just the two of them… That can't be good news. You've got to get here before he takes him away Alfred!" Matthew whispered aggressively down the phone, and though aggressively never is audible in his soft toned voice… by the sudden silence; it seemed that Alfred got the point.
"What's wrong with France being there?" Alfred said in the most annoyingly blissfully ignorantly innocent voice that Matthew had ever heard. Was he being serious?! Could anyone, really, be that stupid?
It was Alfred… so yes, yes they could. Matthew groaned.
"Alfred? Don't you get it? He's been trying to have England to himself for hundreds of years… and England's playing right into his hands. France will try something on him, I know it! If you don't get here soon, then you might lose him Alfred…!"
"…Ooh! Okay! …I'll be there! Matt, go back to the hotel and relax - alright? I'll handle it from here. I'm the hero, remember? I'm not going to let Arthur get into France's hands - okay?" Alfred said in the strongest voice he could muster, though Matthew could hear the strain in his voice - stopping himself from panicking. Matthew knew his brother's nervous habits so well. "If that French idiot thinks he can take Arthur from me just like that, he's got another bloody thing coming…!"
There was a click, and Alfred hung up. Matthew sighed. He left the cubicle and stared out of the frosted glass window… he could hear the pitter-patters of the rain becoming more intense by the second. Thunderstorms in the heart of England…? He strolled over to the window.
"Come on Alfred… You can do it…"
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So there it is.
The title could be applied to both Canada and England; since Canada accidentally kissed back, and England was a stupid git and not only kissed his love's brother, but also decided to go to the king of bloody sexual harassment for comfort. XD.
It was an honest mistake, right? You'd do it if you were upset… I know I would have xD…
When it came to: ' "What's wrong with France being there?" '… it took will power not to write Canada face-palming xD. You can almost hear the impact…
Not sure about the country/person link I did there; but it was a little idea I had, and I hinted about it a little before.
Next chapter… can America get to England before he stupidly goes off with France to God knows where?
…It's sad, but there are only theoretically two more chapters left.
(And then another chapter for smut, because everyone loves smut.)
Thank you for reading my fan fiction…!
Previous Chapter: [LINK]
Next Chapter: [LINK]
Author/Artist: DestinyShiva a.k.a me.
Characters/Pairing: USUK, slight FrUK, slight UKCan. (Mainly England and America, but the G8 + Lithuania + Poland are present too!)
Rating: Chapters 1 - 8... T. Chapters 9... M.
Warnings: Boys love, blood, pretty hardcore yaoi in the last chapter... and France being France.
Summary: Rushing through the streets of London, Arthur tries to leave the horrific argument he had with America/Alfred behind; though danger takes an ominous form. Soon Arthur's blood is spilled and England can only remember one name... Alfred.
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Beyond the Pale (Chapter 6/9)
I'm a little worried about this chapter, because it's the number one spanner in the works for America and England.
Now, back to the fiction:
I was obsessed with one song constantly while writing… 'Run to You' by The Rasmus. I've decided that this song is the non-official theme song of Beyond the Pale xD!! It fits so well! Go listen!
Guilty to a Crime Against Myself
It was strange, wasn't it? The correlation between the people and the actual countries seemed to be absolutely uncanny, and this proved it. Several weird accidents had been occurring all around the United Kingdom; the most prominent of which was the quite devastating earth quake that hit the left upper regions of England on the late evening of the fourth of July. It was one of the strongest that England had in recorded history apparently.
Another weird event was the sudden heat wave that blasted through the western side of England, and in particular Manchester - where the temperature peaked at 35 degrees centigrade on the fifth.
The final one was the most concerning however, though it was quite easy to miss unless you gave it a second glance. For three days straight, uninterrupted, the midlands had been covered with absolutely terrible threatening thunder storms. It was true that the entirety of England was enclosed by rainclouds, but that one concentrated spot in the heart was the only to be struck by lightning at all… and one constant unending thunderstorm in the exact same spot was something that should have been considered impossible. But it happened.
The media obviously had gotten their hands on the information that Arthur Kirkland, a.k.a. England, was in hospital for head injuries (thankfully they hadn't been told about the Amnesia) after a while. Immediately they decided to make the connection between the man and the country, especially when it came to the earthquake in the north.
"For privacy reasons, we cannot mention which hospital Arthur Kirkland has been submitted to; however we are currently in the process of requesting an exclusive inside interview. The doctors have informed us that Arthur is stable and seems to be making a speedy recovery. Don't forget to email or text in with your opinions on this event! More on this story later, back to the studio."
Matthew torn his eyes away from the television suspended in the window of the shop and continued walking down the street towards the hospital. He shivered bitterly, wishing that the heat wave that was striking the western side of England would bother to come over to London - where it was pouring with rain and absolutely freezing. Why did British summers have to be so annoyingly unpredictable? When he breathed out, he was almost certain that he could see his breath solidify with frost in the air. Seriously…! The British have weird weather patterns.
Matthew reached the hospital; the news story still echoing in his mind. The news was being ridiculous of course. It was all a coincidence, he was certain of it. They didn't make it sound unbelievably convincing - unending rain, heat waves, and bizarre concentrated storms in England's heart? It didn't sound like Arthur… far too rash for the gentleman's conscience. It was silly…
The storm in his heart… that part in particular was the most ridiculous. Alfred was practically screaming of joy down the phone yesterday after he visited Arthur - he was so happy that Matthew found it hard to interpret that the hell Alfred was saying… but one part came very clearly. 'He said he loved me'. Matthew knew what had happened immediately. Surely, Arthur would have been happy by that, wouldn't he?
He was glad for his brother; extortionately so. Matthew had never mentioned it, but he was able to tell that Alfred was bitterly obsessed with Arthur's affections for a long time. Alfred was just like a little child; playing up constantly to gain the attentions of another. That always worked, Matthew smiled sweetly to himself, and Arthur had always given Alfred the attention he craved. Whether the attention was good or bad, they always ended up crossing each other's paths. They shared a devotion to each other from the very beginning. It was only a matter of time before they both realised that the devotion was, simply, love.
Matthew hugged the air absently, completely forgetting that he had left Kumajoru (or was it Kumajishi?) back at the hotel room. A hospital wouldn't be very impressed if he attempted to bring a polar bear in with him after all… not that they would have noticed him carrying it anyway. Inside the reception, Matthew spoke to a pretty young nurse… or at least he tried to. The nurse ended up walking straight past him and ignoring his total existence, until he literally leapt in her way. Even then, she only noticed him because she very almost tripped. No one ever noticed him…
He hadn't had any need to worry about those English drunkards the day before; although he was absolutely quivering with fear, had to walk straight in their way, accidentally bumped into one of the burliest and most terrifying men in the group, looked directly at his girlfriend, and knocked over someone's can of Carlsburg… not a single person reacted to his presence. He didn't know what was worse... getting beaten to a pulp, or being so completely ignored that he might as well not have existed.
No one ever noticed him. He wanted to get out of London as soon as possible, but that was impossible while Alfred continued to insist on staying. He couldn't have simply gotten the plane by his self. The last time he travelled alone, someone actually sat on him without realising he was there. No one ever noticed him…
He began to ponder whether metal detectors would ignore his presence, and whether it was possible for him to get into an airport with some illegal items without getting caught at all. He wouldn't have been surprised. He sighed as he finished scaling the stairs to the second floor at the nurse's instructions (she initially said the third floor, but quickly changed her mind. He hoped he picked the right place… she didn't sound very convincing at all), and headed down the corridor.
It was frustrating… the drunkards of Great Britain, nurses, people at airports, other countries, even his own polar bear Kumajurou - all of them never paid any attention to him. He mumbled a few incoherent swear words to himself, cursing Alfred for being so damned bold in the world while he stayed forgotten… and pushed the door to Arthur's ward open after he gave a small (hardly audible) knock.
No one ever noticed him. But…
…Arthur noticed him.
Matthew gave Arthur a sweet smile, to which the older nation gave a shocked frown. Arthur was sitting cross-legged in one of the chairs that surrounded his bedside; a book leaned open in his lap, propped open by spanned fingers, and what Matthew immediately interpreted as tea in an endearingly charming pink porcelain tea cup. Slammed his tea down, spilling a drop of the amber nectar, and discarded the book to the empty bed without any regard for its neatness. That was uncharacteristic of Arthur… the man was practically obsessed with making sure no books in his possession were bent in the slightest. 'Books should be appreciated to the every last word, and that means every page should be flawless!' Matthew nibbled his lip as he watched Arthur go back on his own demanding words. He must have been distracted.
Why? Did he remember him or something? …No. Whoever would remember him?
"You… You came back."
"What?" Matthew murmured as Arthur stepped several paces closer; his face had gone scarlet, flooding with unforeseen emotions. The Englishman was practically shaking, but a soft smile peaked at his lips. Matthew blinked as those earthly emerald green eyes shone with a weird happiness he had never seen brimming inside Arthur before.
"I thought you would never come back. You rejected me… didn't you?" Arthur muttered as he slowly approached his close proximity. Now both parties were shaking. Matthew continued to blink in shock. 'Rejected'? But he didn't do anything like that… What was Arthur talking about?
"Eh?"
"If you came back… that… that means…" Arthur stuttered, dropping his head and removed a bead of moisture dwelling in the corner of his eye. Arthur… was crying? Matthew watched in awe as more moisture built and finally a small glistening line ran down his cheeks. He cursed and wiped it away with his hand. "…Does that mean, you do care, Alfred?"
It finally made sense. Arthur was mistaking him for his brother. It was an easy fault to make, wasn't it? They looked amazingly similar... people would not have been able to tell the difference between them; if it wasn't for his slightly longer hair and the polar bear he usually carried in his hands. He couldn't have blamed Arthur for not realising, especially when he was still suffering from Amnesia. But he did hate being mistaken for his brother. He loathed it… He raised his hands in defence when Arthur came even closer.
"Oh no - I'm n-"
Matthew's eyes widened as he felt Arthur's finger stroke his chin and quickly pull it to his level… and the soft lips of the Englishman brushed against his. He backed up against the closed door in shock as Arthur pulled him into a seductively hungry kiss. The door rattling and complaining as it took the force of the retreating Canadian and the lovesick Englishman pushed against it. Matthew stood limp from the astonishment, as Arthur desperately clung to him - his soft gentlemanly hands slipping around his back and brought him into a sweet, loving embrace. He watched Arthur's expression as he administered to him the most furious passion that the Englishman could muster. His face was embarrassed and red, and his closed eyes were erupting with floods of tears. Matthew lost himself, sold to those adoring tears. For a moment, he kissed back… tasting Arthur, submitting fervently, as their tongues sought each other. Arthur brought back his hands, stroking the side of his flushing red cheek slowly with one… while the other found itself rubbing hungrily through his hair.
Oh, Arthur noticed him.
Arthur snapped his eyes open, and both parties pushed apart from each other. They panted for air simultaneously, exhausted from the seemingly never-ending kiss. Matthew stayed put, frozen in the position that Arthur forced him into against the door, paralysed by the poisonous thrill… while the British nation stumbled backwards, eyes as wide as the Canadian's when he felt Arthur's delicious lips for the first ever time…
…But the kiss wasn't for him.
It was for Alfred.
"You're… Y-You're not Alfred, are you?" Arthur stammered; backing up so much that his back collided with the metal frame of the bed several feet away. Matthew watched Arthur as he began shaking once again, out of fear more than overcome with ecstatic passion. Matthew didn't know what to say. He was too shocked, with both the sudden gesture and himself. Why did he have to begin kissing back? The taste of the Englishman lingered as a ghost on his lips; cold clinging to him now that it was over, buzzing with the persistent sensation. He shook his head.
"I'm his brother. Matthew… Canada." He said in an even quieter voice than usual, spoken as an almost inaudible whisper. The Englishman heard. How could he not? The room was plunged into the coldest of silences.
"F-Fuck." Arthur spoke bitterly. Both parties were so stunned that they could no longer move, and words were not coming to either's mind. They remained there for several minutes, without a single flinch or word spoken to break that bewildered stillness.
"I'm sorry." Arthur finally managed to plead. "That was supposed to be for Alfred… I'm sorry…"
Matthew bit his lip and merely nodded.
"Don't… Don't tell Alfred. Please…" Arthur really was pleading. Matthew watched quizzically. He had never seen Arthur show any unexpected weakness before… but then, he had never seen Arthur try being romantic at all. It was a territory he never crossed into until then. Matthew nodded obediently again.
Why… did that kiss have to be the most fantastic he had ever had? He couldn't tear his mind away from that beloved ferocity that Arthur imbued upon him. Matthew opened the door of the ward quickly, desperate to run away as quickly as possible. Arthur didn't tell him to wait, staying absolutely immobilised over in his spot. Matthew shot out of the room and quickly shut the door behind him - his thoughts finally becoming coherent again.
Arthur…ARTHUR… kissed him. So passionately that he couldn't remove the sensations of it from his mind. That was one hell of a kiss.
Alfred was one hell of a lucky guy.
A sudden noise erupted behind the door; a chime from Arthur's mobile phone, no doubt. Amazing Grace echoed through the ward's fourth walls, and Matthew could hear the fumbles as the Englishman tried frantically to find it. The Canadian didn't know why he didn't move himself from the other side of the door, which he was propped up against only a few minutes previously - getting the God damned best kiss of his life. He was still frozen… but at least he didn't have to look at Arthur's terrified expression, all filled with the dregs of tears.
"…France?" Arthur muttered into the phone when the 'king of losing things' finally managed to find it in the secluded room. Matthew could tell from his strained voice that he was panicking; even more than he was. "Yes, I'm upset… I just did the most stupid thing in my life, how could I not be bloody upset by that?"
Matthew peered through the crack of the door. Arthur was pacing anxiously; his hand clutching the area of his injury. Matthew could hear the inaudible murmurs of the Frenchman on the other side of the phone, but he wasn't able to interpret what he was saying at all.
"God yes. I'll tell you what happened later. France… Francis… I need to get out of here. Quickly. I've got to get out of here." Arthur muttered again and again. The voice on the other side lowered his volume, and Matthew could tell that the tone had significantly changed. "That's fine…Thank you. I'll be ready. It doesn't matter where you take me. Just get me out of here. And don't tell Alfred a thing.
What, Alfred? Alfred… he's going to hate me. I love him Francis. I can't handle him hating me. I can't handle this at all. Don't you dare tell him a thing! Just take me away, okay?! Yes, fine, just you and me. Anywhere, you french frog-faced git! I'll go anywhere…"
That.
That was not good.
What was Francis trying to do? Matthew couldn't believe that whatever Francis was planning would just be about simple, harmless comfort. If it was someone other than Arthur, maybe he could have believed him. But Matthew knew it. He grew up with Francis taking care of him, and he was smart enough to notice these things. He wanted Arthur… badly… for centuries and centuries on end. When it came to Arthur, Francis's mind never was innocent.
Matthew got up and ran. He couldn't take listening to Arthur foolishly getting himself intertwined with Francis for a single second longer. He snatched up his own mobile phone from his pocket and retreated into a men's toilet, before dialling the first number on his contact list. (Damn Alfred for having the first name to appear alphabetically - Alfred always loved it; bragging that he was 'Number 1'. That was infuriating). Matthew looked around to make sure that no one else was in the bathroom, before he retreated into a cubicle for a little more secluded privacy.
The echoes of the kiss still remained on his lips. Matthew brushed his finger along it before he finally heard his obnoxious brother's voice on the other end of the line.
"Mattie! How are you! You're lucky you caught me… I just got out of the shower. I've been getting ready for going to the hospital. Are you already there? I'll be there in a sec. I was going to stop off at McDonalds on the way though and get some hamburgers… you know they just call it 'burgers' here? That's weird isn't it? They also call trash cans 'bins' and sidewalk 'pavement'… how weird is that! The English are funny. I'll get you a happy meal if you want! So! Hi, are you okay? Why did you call me?"
Matthew stood, stunned that his brother could say all of that in practically one breath… but then, he could eat about fifteen burgers without pausing to breathe at all. "Forget the McDonalds Alfred. You need to get down here, quickly."
"Eh? What's with that stressed tone Mattie? You sound kind of upset. Arthur wasn't being a meanie, was he?" Alfred laughed heartily.
"No. It's something else…"
"Well?"
"He thought I was you… Matt bit his lip unhappily, nibbling away where it had swollen from the induced pressure. "…And he kissed me."
"What? He… thought you were me and kissed you? Wow. Never would have thought that Arty would be so bold. Kudos to him."
"You're not upset that he kissed me?"
"No. It was a mistake, wasn't it? I'll just punch him in the mouth later for you, okay? I'll be there in a second if you're that worried. But you'll be paying for my happy meal afterwards. I'm hungry!"
"Alfred… You might not be upset. But he is." Matthew whispered confidentially into the phone. "England thinks you'll hate him. He asked France to come take him away. France will be here any moment. He asked him not to say a word. And France wants it to be just the two of them… That can't be good news. You've got to get here before he takes him away Alfred!" Matthew whispered aggressively down the phone, and though aggressively never is audible in his soft toned voice… by the sudden silence; it seemed that Alfred got the point.
"What's wrong with France being there?" Alfred said in the most annoyingly blissfully ignorantly innocent voice that Matthew had ever heard. Was he being serious?! Could anyone, really, be that stupid?
It was Alfred… so yes, yes they could. Matthew groaned.
"Alfred? Don't you get it? He's been trying to have England to himself for hundreds of years… and England's playing right into his hands. France will try something on him, I know it! If you don't get here soon, then you might lose him Alfred…!"
"…Ooh! Okay! …I'll be there! Matt, go back to the hotel and relax - alright? I'll handle it from here. I'm the hero, remember? I'm not going to let Arthur get into France's hands - okay?" Alfred said in the strongest voice he could muster, though Matthew could hear the strain in his voice - stopping himself from panicking. Matthew knew his brother's nervous habits so well. "If that French idiot thinks he can take Arthur from me just like that, he's got another bloody thing coming…!"
There was a click, and Alfred hung up. Matthew sighed. He left the cubicle and stared out of the frosted glass window… he could hear the pitter-patters of the rain becoming more intense by the second. Thunderstorms in the heart of England…? He strolled over to the window.
"Come on Alfred… You can do it…"
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So there it is.
The title could be applied to both Canada and England; since Canada accidentally kissed back, and England was a stupid git and not only kissed his love's brother, but also decided to go to the king of bloody sexual harassment for comfort. XD.
It was an honest mistake, right? You'd do it if you were upset… I know I would have xD…
When it came to: ' "What's wrong with France being there?" '… it took will power not to write Canada face-palming xD. You can almost hear the impact…
Not sure about the country/person link I did there; but it was a little idea I had, and I hinted about it a little before.
Next chapter… can America get to England before he stupidly goes off with France to God knows where?
…It's sad, but there are only theoretically two more chapters left.
(And then another chapter for smut, because everyone loves smut.)
Thank you for reading my fan fiction…!
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