Tosser 2b/3
anonymous
February 24 2011, 19:55:45 UTC
“My office. Now.”
“Uh sure, Iggy. Ya know-”
“Belt up, boy. My office.”
The two walked in silence until Arthur had the door safely closed and locked behind them.
“Like I said, I didn’t-”
“I’m sorry, did I say you could speak? If I did, I assure you it was purely by accident.”
Alfred’s mouth gaped open as he stared in astonishment, then snapped shut.
“In all honestly, it doesn’t really matter if you drank it or not, does it?” Arthur asked quietly. Dangerously. Alfred swallowed thickly. His gaze darted all over the room as England spoke, to the locked door, the recently napped on couch, the antique light fixture, anywhere but at England himself. Arthur repressed his smirk with a scowl and continued, “in the end I’m always scolding you for something, aren’t I? In the end you’re always titting about when there’s serious work to be done, or making a right mess of things when they’d just been put in order, aren’t you? Why is that, America? Why do you test me, so?”
“I…uh, um, well, I-”
“You see, Alfred, you fucking ballache, I have a theory on how it is you can be such a spectacular arse. You see, I believe you do it…on purpose.”
Alfred’s eyes went comically, deliciously wide. Arthur took a bold step forward, and Alfred took one back.
“Of course, all children do this. Don’t they? All children talk back to their fathers, their superiors, even when they’ve been taught better. All children insist vehemently that they are independent,” he spat the word, “before they even know what that truly means. That’s what you are, Alfred; a child talking back to his superior.”
“You-” America seemed to have found his voice as England took another step forward. This time he held his ground, “you self-righteous old man. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Yes,” England replied softly, stepping forward so their bodies were mere centimeters apart, “you do.”
America shuddered visibly, “you know what, England? I am really tired of you acting like such a fucking bitch all the-”
England slapped him hard across the face.
America’s head snapped to the side.
“Shut your bloody noise, you insolent, little cunt!” England roared, straightening to his full height. Stunned, Alfred could do nothing but stare. Arthur pressed him backward into the edge of his desk, then pressed him farther still until Alfred either had to prop himself up or grab Arthur to keep from falling backward. England repressed another smirk when Al opted to grab his lapels for balance.
“I am sick of this behavior! It is positively, undeniably, unacceptable in every way! You are a fucking WORLD POWER, Alfred! Grow the fuck up!”
“Uh sure, Iggy. Ya know-”
“Belt up, boy. My office.”
The two walked in silence until Arthur had the door safely closed and locked behind them.
“Like I said, I didn’t-”
“I’m sorry, did I say you could speak? If I did, I assure you it was purely by accident.”
Alfred’s mouth gaped open as he stared in astonishment, then snapped shut.
“In all honestly, it doesn’t really matter if you drank it or not, does it?” Arthur asked quietly. Dangerously. Alfred swallowed thickly. His gaze darted all over the room as England spoke, to the locked door, the recently napped on couch, the antique light fixture, anywhere but at England himself. Arthur repressed his smirk with a scowl and continued, “in the end I’m always scolding you for something, aren’t I? In the end you’re always titting about when there’s serious work to be done, or making a right mess of things when they’d just been put in order, aren’t you? Why is that, America? Why do you test me, so?”
“I…uh, um, well, I-”
“You see, Alfred, you fucking ballache, I have a theory on how it is you can be such a spectacular arse. You see, I believe you do it…on purpose.”
Alfred’s eyes went comically, deliciously wide. Arthur took a bold step forward, and Alfred took one back.
“Of course, all children do this. Don’t they? All children talk back to their fathers, their superiors, even when they’ve been taught better. All children insist vehemently that they are independent,” he spat the word, “before they even know what that truly means. That’s what you are, Alfred; a child talking back to his superior.”
“You-” America seemed to have found his voice as England took another step forward. This time he held his ground, “you self-righteous old man. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Yes,” England replied softly, stepping forward so their bodies were mere centimeters apart, “you do.”
America shuddered visibly, “you know what, England? I am really tired of you acting like such a fucking bitch all the-”
England slapped him hard across the face.
America’s head snapped to the side.
“Shut your bloody noise, you insolent, little cunt!” England roared, straightening to his full height. Stunned, Alfred could do nothing but stare. Arthur pressed him backward into the edge of his desk, then pressed him farther still until Alfred either had to prop himself up or grab Arthur to keep from falling backward. England repressed another smirk when Al opted to grab his lapels for balance.
“I am sick of this behavior! It is positively, undeniably, unacceptable in every way! You are a fucking WORLD POWER, Alfred! Grow the fuck up!”
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