The Bright Lights of America [1/2]
anonymous
July 14 2009, 00:31:37 UTC
Alright, so I ended up writing it anyway. :D Not completely sure if this was what you were looking for. ... It's definitely a fluff story. Sorry if it is not what you were wanting, I apologize in advance. It is my first Hetalia story, but I hope you like it anyway.
Alfred was in love with Arthur. And when you're in love, you're suppose to change for your partner, right? Because right now, Alfred wasn't so sure anymore.
He looked in the mirror, unsure. Aside from the patriotic colors, the liberty spikes were just... well, not him. Not that it looked bad on him, he thought, because he was just too awesome to look unattractive. Even with this hair style, he'll pull it off. Besides, it was for Arthur. Arthur was punk, so surely Alfred could be one too...
"I just want you to know, they are warehouses full of fucked up kids like you and me,"
... Except there was one thing wrong with Alfred being a punk; Sometimes he just couldn't stand the music Arthur listened to. Well, most of it he didn't like. A great example is the stuff that Arthur was listening to at full blast right now. The whiny punk music where the singer screams relentlessly for equality. Not that Alfred wasn't for equality, because he definitely was. There is a way to open peoples' mind to equality, among other things, without constantly complaining about the world. He wasn't quite sure where this band stood when it came to things other than equality, but he was pretty sure that this band was anti-American.
Arthur came out of his room, music still playing. At an unreasonable volume, Alfred thought to himself.
"Come on, Alfred," he began, pulling him out of his trance in front of the mirror and into the hallway, "sing with me!"
"The bright lights of America! Life and death in a sold-out America! To live and die in America, where they sell souls!"
This was going to be hard for Alfred to pull off.
---
"Come on, Alfred," Arthur began for the second time that day, "you can do it!"
And for once in his life, Alfred was pretty sure he couldn't do something.
"Just imagine how cool that brow piercing will be. It doesn't hurt that bad, trust me."
He should be able to trust the Brit, considering how many piercings he has, but even with the bad-ass front Alfred puts up, he couldn't handle pain too well. Not only that, but he really didn't want this piercing all that much. Couldn't he just start with a simple ear piercing first?
No, he could do this. He knew he could do this. He was America for Christ's sake. And when America put his mind to it, he could handle anything. Well, almost anything.
"Are you going to do this or not?"
Alfred looked up at the man who was going to pierce his eye brow. His appereance still didn't fail in scaring the shit out of him. Long beard, ears gauged bigger than half-dollars, and multiple face piercings, including the nose one where it makes you look like a bull. He looked irritated, impatient...
"Uh, yes," Alfred finally got the nerve to speak, "I'm doing it."
Re: The Bright Lights of America [1/2]
anonymous
July 14 2009, 00:50:05 UTC
The man had all the piercing apparatus set, so once Alfred said he was ready, he proceeded to begin.
"Alright, I'm just going to count to three." Said the man.
Alfred grabbed Arthur's hand on impulse. The Brit laughed humorously at his scared boyfriend. "Shut up, Arthur!" he barked, "This is my first piercing!"
The man rolled his eyes at the two. He was growing more and more impatient by the second. "One... Two..." And before he said three, the needle went through Alfred's brow.
"Shit," he said under his breath, still clenching Arthur's hand. He didn't want to be dramatic, but that hurt like a bitch. Not only that, but it felt weird.
Even though Alfred didn't, Arthur seemed happy enough by his piercing. Arthur noticed the pout on Alfred's face. "Aye, chap, why don't we go get some scotch?"
Alfred wasn't going to argue with that.
---
The two sat at the little mini-bar Arthur had in his house, sipping at their whisky. There was music playing in the background as the two talked. Alfred was quite familiar with the artist that was playing, for it was one of Arthur's favorite bands. The sound of the band was distinct, so it was easy for Alfred to tell it was The Adicts.
"I don't wanna die for ENGLAND! I don't wanna die at all. I, I, I, I, Ooooooo!"
Alfred smiled softly to himself, and Arthur noticed this. "What is it?" He asked curiously.
"Hm? Oh, nothing really." He said, his cheeks reddening slightly.
"No, really. What where you smiling about?"
"Well," Alfred said slowly, reluctant, "The Adicts might not want to die for England... but I know that I would."
Arthur smiled at this, resting Alfred's hands in his. He was really lucky he had Alfred. He was sweet, and they had many simular interests...
"But there is something I have to get off my chest." He said, sighing. "I'm not a punk like you are. This hair, this piercing... I just did this for you, to make you happy."
Arthur still smiled at him, although now slightly confused. "Oh, Alfred, you don't have to change for me! You can be so silly sometimes. I like you the way you are."
"R-really?"
"Of course. Why did you think you had to change for me?"
"Well... I don't know. I guess I just wanted to be more like you. Because you're into the whole "punk" style, and I thought I could be too."
Arthur put his arms around Alfred, giving him a quick, chaste kiss on the lips. "You're punk enough for me."
Re: The Bright Lights of America [1/2]
anonymous
July 15 2009, 06:56:55 UTC
Oh poor Alfred. If I ever had a bf who wanted me to get an eyebrow piercing, I'd so kick his balls and tell him, "Hell no!" Props to Al for handling the pain and needle well.
BUT AWWW, AT THE END.
"You're punk enough for me."
I'm such a sap, but aww, that is so cute. ♥ Great job, anon! :D I've been reading so much angst lately and it's getting me depressed, so it's good to see some fluff. :]
Alfred was in love with Arthur. And when you're in love, you're suppose to change for your partner, right? Because right now, Alfred wasn't so sure anymore.
He looked in the mirror, unsure. Aside from the patriotic colors, the liberty spikes were just... well, not him. Not that it looked bad on him, he thought, because he was just too awesome to look unattractive. Even with this hair style, he'll pull it off. Besides, it was for Arthur. Arthur was punk, so surely Alfred could be one too...
"I just want you to know, they are warehouses full of fucked up kids like you and me,"
... Except there was one thing wrong with Alfred being a punk; Sometimes he just couldn't stand the music Arthur listened to. Well, most of it he didn't like. A great example is the stuff that Arthur was listening to at full blast right now. The whiny punk music where the singer screams relentlessly for equality. Not that Alfred wasn't for equality, because he definitely was. There is a way to open peoples' mind to equality, among other things, without constantly complaining about the world. He wasn't quite sure where this band stood when it came to things other than equality, but he was pretty sure that this band was anti-American.
Arthur came out of his room, music still playing. At an unreasonable volume, Alfred thought to himself.
"Come on, Alfred," he began, pulling him out of his trance in front of the mirror and into the hallway, "sing with me!"
"The bright lights of America! Life and death in a sold-out America! To live and die in America, where they sell souls!"
This was going to be hard for Alfred to pull off.
---
"Come on, Alfred," Arthur began for the second time that day, "you can do it!"
And for once in his life, Alfred was pretty sure he couldn't do something.
"Just imagine how cool that brow piercing will be. It doesn't hurt that bad, trust me."
He should be able to trust the Brit, considering how many piercings he has, but even with the bad-ass front Alfred puts up, he couldn't handle pain too well. Not only that, but he really didn't want this piercing all that much. Couldn't he just start with a simple ear piercing first?
No, he could do this. He knew he could do this. He was America for Christ's sake. And when America put his mind to it, he could handle anything. Well, almost anything.
"Are you going to do this or not?"
Alfred looked up at the man who was going to pierce his eye brow. His appereance still didn't fail in scaring the shit out of him. Long beard, ears gauged bigger than half-dollars, and multiple face piercings, including the nose one where it makes you look like a bull. He looked irritated, impatient...
"Uh, yes," Alfred finally got the nerve to speak, "I'm doing it."
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"Alright, I'm just going to count to three." Said the man.
Alfred grabbed Arthur's hand on impulse. The Brit laughed humorously at his scared boyfriend. "Shut up, Arthur!" he barked, "This is my first piercing!"
The man rolled his eyes at the two. He was growing more and more impatient by the second. "One... Two..." And before he said three, the needle went through Alfred's brow.
"Shit," he said under his breath, still clenching Arthur's hand. He didn't want to be dramatic, but that hurt like a bitch. Not only that, but it felt weird.
Even though Alfred didn't, Arthur seemed happy enough by his piercing. Arthur noticed the pout on Alfred's face. "Aye, chap, why don't we go get some scotch?"
Alfred wasn't going to argue with that.
---
The two sat at the little mini-bar Arthur had in his house, sipping at their whisky. There was music playing in the background as the two talked. Alfred was quite familiar with the artist that was playing, for it was one of Arthur's favorite bands. The sound of the band was distinct, so it was easy for Alfred to tell it was The Adicts.
"I don't wanna die for ENGLAND! I don't wanna die at all. I, I, I, I, Ooooooo!"
Alfred smiled softly to himself, and Arthur noticed this. "What is it?" He asked curiously.
"Hm? Oh, nothing really." He said, his cheeks reddening slightly.
"No, really. What where you smiling about?"
"Well," Alfred said slowly, reluctant, "The Adicts might not want to die for England... but I know that I would."
Arthur smiled at this, resting Alfred's hands in his. He was really lucky he had Alfred. He was sweet, and they had many simular interests...
"But there is something I have to get off my chest." He said, sighing. "I'm not a punk like you are. This hair, this piercing... I just did this for you, to make you happy."
Arthur still smiled at him, although now slightly confused. "Oh, Alfred, you don't have to change for me! You can be so silly sometimes. I like you the way you are."
"R-really?"
"Of course. Why did you think you had to change for me?"
"Well... I don't know. I guess I just wanted to be more like you. Because you're into the whole "punk" style, and I thought I could be too."
Arthur put his arms around Alfred, giving him a quick, chaste kiss on the lips. "You're punk enough for me."
Is it just me or does this ending suck balls?
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I'll admit I wasn't expecting this, but this was so damn adorable.
I love it~ <3
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I-is there any chance of a sequel? I love your punk England...
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If I ever had a bf who wanted me to get an eyebrow piercing, I'd so kick his balls and tell him, "Hell no!" Props to Al for handling the pain and needle well.
BUT AWWW, AT THE END.
"You're punk enough for me."
I'm such a sap, but aww, that is so cute. ♥ Great job, anon! :D I've been reading so much angst lately and it's getting me depressed, so it's good to see some fluff. :]
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