Sidecar [2b/3]
anonymous
November 2 2011, 00:27:07 UTC
Alfred’s eyes widened almost helplessly when the other grabbed his chin and leaned in to sniff his breath, which was coming a bit heavily after his rush to put the bottle away. He was startled, though not surprised, that not only could the older nation smell the alcohol on his breath, he could identify exactly what it was from scent alone, even though Alfred hadn't been drinking it straight. For a split second, he considered denying the accusation, but even in his inebriated state Alfred knew that was completely useless, if not counterproductive. The best he could do was to try to defend his actions. "I-Look, 's only illegal to make it or bring it here. Or sell it. Volstead Act doesn't actually say it's against the law to DRINK it.” He wasn't doing anything wrong; he simply hadn’t wanted to think about the mess with Arthur anymore. How productive that solution had been. He closed his own eyes tightly so as not to have to meet Arthur’s-his former guardian was giving him that look that always meant Alfred was about to hear it.
And hear it, he would. Arthur stood up straight-ever frustrated that his once-charge had grown to be taller than he was-setting one hand on his hip this time. "And I suppose you pulled that bottle out of your ass, Alfred?” Arthur frowned. "It came from somewhere didn't it? I don't believe you've had that bottle in there since before this silly ban, so that means at one time or another you broke your own law," Arthur said with resolution. He knew Alfred too well. As much as the young man desperately wanted to be good, just as his children were bound to be rebellious, so was he sometimes. Good intentions or not, Arthur wouldn’t have it. "You said you couldn't watch me drink, Alfred, not that you were only upset about me bringing it here! You got your knickers in a bloody twist over it being bad for my health, didn't you? You're an insufferable lout with a big mouth who likes to preach but not to practice!"
Alfred made a face at essentially being labeled a hypocrite, but... well crap. He had said all that, hadn't he? Even though his initial anger had mostly been over the fact that Arthur had brought the gin into his house, Alfred had gotten carried away, as he was wont to do, and brought up more than he'd intended to-though it hadn't helped that the Brit had intentionally riled him up by drinking it-and now it was biting him in the ass. And when Alfred closed his eyes Arthur reached out, grasping that chin with one hand and forcing him to meet his eyes as soon as the other would open them. Shorter or not, Arthur could sure stare someone down.
Of course, the American nation began to protest the accusations immediately, opening his eyes to shoot a glare at Arthur when his chin was grasped again. "I did have it before the ban. Everything in this cabinet is from before the ban!" He didn't even realize he'd given himself away until he noticed the slight change in expression in the Brit’s face. Arthur let go of Alfred’s chin then, attempting to move the American aside to see what was inside the cabinet behind him, though at first the younger nation tried to block him-he couldn’t have his former caregiver discovering the contents of that cabinet! However, then came that look again-that look had to be cheating, Alfred decided-and that disapproval, and it was even harder to fight in his current state than usual. Giving himself the excuse that he'd already spilled the beans anyway, he allowed Arthur to push him to the side enough to free the cabinet door, hanging his head with the shame of what he knew the other nation would find there.
And hear it, he would. Arthur stood up straight-ever frustrated that his once-charge had grown to be taller than he was-setting one hand on his hip this time. "And I suppose you pulled that bottle out of your ass, Alfred?” Arthur frowned. "It came from somewhere didn't it? I don't believe you've had that bottle in there since before this silly ban, so that means at one time or another you broke your own law," Arthur said with resolution. He knew Alfred too well. As much as the young man desperately wanted to be good, just as his children were bound to be rebellious, so was he sometimes. Good intentions or not, Arthur wouldn’t have it. "You said you couldn't watch me drink, Alfred, not that you were only upset about me bringing it here! You got your knickers in a bloody twist over it being bad for my health, didn't you? You're an insufferable lout with a big mouth who likes to preach but not to practice!"
Alfred made a face at essentially being labeled a hypocrite, but... well crap. He had said all that, hadn't he? Even though his initial anger had mostly been over the fact that Arthur had brought the gin into his house, Alfred had gotten carried away, as he was wont to do, and brought up more than he'd intended to-though it hadn't helped that the Brit had intentionally riled him up by drinking it-and now it was biting him in the ass. And when Alfred closed his eyes Arthur reached out, grasping that chin with one hand and forcing him to meet his eyes as soon as the other would open them. Shorter or not, Arthur could sure stare someone down.
Of course, the American nation began to protest the accusations immediately, opening his eyes to shoot a glare at Arthur when his chin was grasped again. "I did have it before the ban. Everything in this cabinet is from before the ban!" He didn't even realize he'd given himself away until he noticed the slight change in expression in the Brit’s face. Arthur let go of Alfred’s chin then, attempting to move the American aside to see what was inside the cabinet behind him, though at first the younger nation tried to block him-he couldn’t have his former caregiver discovering the contents of that cabinet! However, then came that look again-that look had to be cheating, Alfred decided-and that disapproval, and it was even harder to fight in his current state than usual. Giving himself the excuse that he'd already spilled the beans anyway, he allowed Arthur to push him to the side enough to free the cabinet door, hanging his head with the shame of what he knew the other nation would find there.
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