[Fanfic] Down Came the Rain

Sep 19, 2009 16:08


Title: Down Came the Rain
Author/Artist: me
Character(s) or Pairing(s): USxUK
Rating: T
Warnings: making out ahoy 
Summary: Gakuen Hetalia AU- Dramatic confession and kiss in the rain. Written for the kink meme.


“Arthurrrrrr,” Alfred moaned, looking up from his paperwork with a pleading expression. “Can we be done now? We’ve been working forever and I’m hungryyyyy.”

Arthur sighed as he dropped his pen on the table and rubbed his eyes. “Are you starting that already? You just had two burgers. You can’t be focused on your own gluttony when we have all this work to get done before the week is out. “

“Only you would try to substitute food with work,” Alfred accused, rolling his eyes. “You and Ludwig. You guys should have a club; you can have banquets where you serve nothing but paperwork.”

“I do not substitute food with work,” Arthur said haughtily. “I just don’t use hunger as an excuse to be lazy every time anything of substance comes up. Honestly, how you managed to make president of the student council while I could only manage vice president, I’ll never understand.”

“It’s because I’m awesome, and you’re lame,” they said in unison, because Arthur had asked him this question a thousand times and he already knew by heart the answer Alfred would give him.

Alfred laughed as the older boy grumbled under his breath, something about how a strong work ethic should trump popularity when it came to filling a position as important as president of the student council. Naturally, Alfred ignored him.

“Anyway, I didn’t just have those burgers!” he insisted. “That was over four hours ago! Have you even looked at a clock lately? It’s past eight!”

Arthur frowned and looked at his watch. His emerald eyes widened when the time displayed there matched what Alfred had said. Unwilling to believe that they had really been working that long, he turned to glance up at the clock on the wall behind him. Sure enough, his watch had been correct; he and Alfred had been working for five hours basically without taking a break. It was no wonder they had so much work, really, with the school culture festival coming up, but he just couldn’t understand where the time had gone. Perhaps they ought to head home now after all.

“I didn’t realize it was so late,” he admitted, shuffling his papers together into a neat stack. “I suppose the rest of this will have to wait until tomorrow.”

“Yes!” Alfred shouted, pumping his fist in the air and springing out of his seat. “Finally! McDonal*’s, here I come!”

“What, you’re going to eat another burger?” Arthur asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste as he got up from his own chair. “Do you want to give yourself a heart attack, you bloody fool?”

“What’s that, Iggy?” the bespectacled boy chirped. “You worried about me?”

He slung an arm around Arthur’s shoulders congenially and flashed him a cheeky grin.

“Oh, please,” he scoffed, attempting to push Alfred away as his cheeks began to heat up. “As if I would waste my time worrying about a hopeless case like you. I’d be better off trying to help that damn French frog to turn to a life of celibacy!”

“Yeah? You sure?” the American asked gleefully, not relinquishing his grip on the shorter boy. “You sounded pretty worried. Plus, your face is getting all red.”

The taller boy poked his cheek playfully, prompting Arthur to swat his hand away furiously. Who did that bastard think he was, just putting his hands all over him as he pleased? Arthur was glad they were alone because his face grew even warmer at Alfred’s touch. If people saw him and Alfred walking down the hall like this, Alfred’s arm around his shoulders, his face as red as a cherry (though it wasn’t so much red, he thought, as a healthy pink. He certainly wasn’t blushing or anything), they would surely get all the wrong ideas. That stupid wino bastard, especially, would go blabbing false rumors all over the place if he had been there to witness their camaraderie, if one could call it that. Arthur would call it “harassment”, personally.

“I assure you, it’s nothing but a trick of the light,” he ground out, pushing Alfred away more firmly.

“Ok, whatever,” he shrugged, finally withdrawing his arm. “But hey, you’re not busy now or anything, right? Come to McDonal*’s with me.”

“And subject myself to that rubbish they attempt to pass off as food?” Arthur sneered. “Not a chance.”

“Aha, you can’t fool me with that, Iggy!” Alfred shouted triumphantly. “You already told me a while back that you like McDonal*’s! Besides, it’s not like you can cook something better; you’d probably end up poisoning yourself.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my cooking!” Arthur snapped. “Even if there was, I would rather take my chances with something I’d prepared myself than force down one of those heart-attacks-in-a-wrapper, which, by the way, I never said that I liked! If you’d just get off your lazy arse once in a while and-”

“Holy crap!” Alfred interrupted loudly as they reached the large glass front entryway. “Wouldja look at that rain! It’s freaking pouring!”

The older boy scowled and was about to reprimand him for cutting him off, but then he looked out through the glass doors at the downpour and his eyes widened. It was really coming down out there. Fortunately, it didn’t appear to be one of those nasty, windy rainstorms, if the still tree branches were anything to go by. Windy or not, though, getting home in that without an umbrella when his dorm was a ten minute walk from his current location would be unpleasant. Even the English boy, who was used to rainy weather, was liable to catch a chill in a late November downpour such as this one. Emerald eyes glanced absentmindedly over at Alfred who was digging through his backpack.

“Lucky I brought my umbrella today, huh?” he grinned, producing one which proudly bore his beloved stars and stripes. “Where’s yours? I bet it has something super girly and stupid on it, like rainbow unicorns or something.”

Arthur flushed slightly, his features twisting into a scowl once more. “For your information, unicorns are very noble, beautiful creatures and there’s nothing remotely girly about them.”

Alfred’s grin widened, his eyes glimmering with sheer glee. “Oh god, you really do have a unicorn umbrella, don’t you!” he cackled, clapping his hands. “Lemme see! Take it out!”

“I forgot my umbrella today, if you must know,” Arthur sniffed coldly.

Alfred’s smile diminished. “So… how’re you gonna get home, then? Don’t tell me you’re goin’ out in that with no protection.”

“Haven’t got much of a choice, have I?” the shorter boy sighed. “I’m used to the rain; I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Dude, it’s like ten degrees out there!” Alfred reminded him incredulously. “You’ll freeze your ass off!”

“I’m sure my arse will be fine,” Arthur replied, cutting off the conversation by marching resolutely through the glass door.

The moment the cold air hit him, he shivered uncontrollably, his breath misting in front of his face in an impressively thick white cloud. Suddenly he regretted his previous cavalier attitude; he’d catch his death if he walked home in this. Arthur started slightly as a warm presence sidled up next to him. He looked up to see the American’s smiling face, surprised to notice that Alfred was sheltering them both with his own umbrella. The British boy’s face flushed (because of the cold, of course. It certainly had nothing to with Alfred’s gentle smile being directed at him).

“What kind of hero would I be if I let you walk home in this with no umbrella?” he asked in an unusually soft voice, his eyes shining with something Arthur was hesitant to identify.

Arthur cleared his throat and looked away, hoping that his cheeks weren’t as pink as they felt. He certainly didn’t want Alfred to get the wrong idea or anything. “Rubbish; your dormitory’s nowhere near mine. There’s no need to go out of your way like that.”

“A hero doesn’t care about going out of his way to help a person in need,” Alfred trilled. “It’s fine. Come on.”

“It’s not necessary, really,” Arthur insisted.

The mere thought of standing close enough to the younger boy to share that umbrella was doing funny things to his stomach. At that proximity, he would be able to feel Alfred’s warmth at his side, inhale the subtle but intoxicating scent of his cologne, and brush against his strong, tan arm. If that happened… if he experienced all those… those barely tolerable things, then… Well, he wasn’t going to think about it, but it wasn’t anything he wanted to deal with, that was for certain.

“I’m not taking no for an answer!” Alfred chirped, throwing an arm around Arthur’s waist and pulling him far closer than he was comfortable with being to the other boy.

Arthur’s whole body tensed at the touch, a string of mumbled curses issued from his lips and he struggled against the American’s grip halfheartedly, but Alfred just sniggered and continued to hold him tight.

“Fear not, fair maiden, for I, the selfless hero, will rescue you from the evil pneumonia dragon and guide you to safety!” Alfred declared loudly, shooting Arthur a sidelong grin.

“Who the hell are you calling a maiden, you twat?!” Arthur snarled. “I never even asked for your help in the first place! You forced it on me! There’s nothing heroic about that!”

“But it would be even less heroic for me to just leave you to get sick as you walk home in the rain, right?” Alfred pointed out. “It’s not my fault you’re too much of a senile old man to realize when you need help.”

Arthur smacked Alfred on the back of the head. “I’m only a year older than you, you bloody wanker! Don’t go talking about me as if I was your grandfather! Besides, if there was even a single functional particle in that squishy, fat-clogged brain of yours, you’d know that rain doesn’t make people sick! It’s germs that do that! You ought to take a leaf out of my book and read once in a while; then you’d know.”

“Pfft, I read all the time,” Alfred claimed, waving Arthur’s suggestion aside. “I just returned one of the books Kiku lent me today. People get sick in the rain all the time in Kiku’s books and Kiku’s a pretty smart guy, right?”

“Comic books don’t count!” the shorter boy snapped. “They’re not real literature, nor do they hold any academic value! What you really need to read is-”

“Yahoo! McDonal*’s!” Alfred interrupted a little too loudly, breaking into a run and jerking poor Arthur with him. “Man, I can taste that Big Mac already!”

“Quit interrupting me when I’m talking to you!”

Their dinner at McDonal*’s was a relatively quiet affair. It was already almost 8:30 so the place was pretty empty. Alfred plopped down cheerfully right next to Arthur rather than taking the seat across the table from him. Arthur lowered his eyes, sipping his drink slowly as his cheeks heated up again, though he didn’t move away. He was still a bit cold from being outside, after all, and if nothing else, at least Alfred was warm. The American looked over at Arthur’s grilled chicken salad and scoffed.

“Dude, did they mess up your order or something?” he asked. “If they screwed up, you can take it back to the counter you know; you don’t have to eat it.”

The British boy rolled his eyes. “This is what I ordered, you prat. I don’t have to eat that fatty crap just because you forced me to come here.”

“That’s sick, Arthur,” Alfred told him flatly. “Ordering salad at a McDonal*’s is practically one of the seven deadly sins.”

Alfred reached into his super-sized carton of fries and held a few up to Arthur’s lips. “Here, this is what real food should taste like.”

Arthur leaned back in his seat to escape the fries the taller boy was shoving in his face. “I know what fries taste like, you git. Get them out of my face.”

The American did nothing, simply looking at Arthur expectantly. Arthur sighed, his cheeks reddening as he reluctantly leaned forward and hesitantly allowed Alfred to feed him the fries. As he took them into his mouth, the fleeting thought flitted across his mind that perhaps, despite having the word “French” in the name, fries didn’t taste as bad as he remembered.

He started slightly when he accidentally allowed Alfred’s fingers to lightly graze his lips. Mortified, Arthur prepared to scoot as far away from the other boy as he could but before he could launch himself into motion, Alfred’s fingers moved to cup Arthur’s blazing cheek. Arthur was so shocked that he simply froze. Alfred stroked it lightly with his thumb, and… No, it couldn’t be. Was… Alfred’s face going red, too? Arthur’s hand drifted up to touch Alfred’s, checking to make sure that he wasn’t imagining its presence. He stared at the American in shock.

“Sorry, you had a little… salad dressing on your face,” he said in a strangely breathless voice. “And on your lips, too…”

Oh god, Alfred was leaning closer. Oh god, what should he do? Arthur, whose cheeks were now a stunning crimson color, pulled away, putting some distance between them as he tried to get a grip on himself. It must have been his imagination, but he could have sworn Alfred had just tried to kiss him. Once he took a few deep breaths and thought about it, though, he realized that there was no way that had been Alfred’s intention.

As the American reminded him frequently, Alfred simply saw him as a stuffy old man who was only worth spending time with when he could tease him relentlessly. Not that Arthur cared, of course. He didn’t even want to be here right now. He didn’t even want to be anywhere near Alfred. Arthur began to pick self-consciously at his salad again, wondering why his heart was suddenly beating so strangely. Perhaps those three fries Alfred had just forced down his throat were giving him a heart attack.

After leaving the restaurant, the next part of their walk back to the dorm was carried out in awkward silence. Arthur did his best to stand far enough away that he didn’t brush against Alfred but it was difficult to do so if he wanted to stay under the umbrella. He stole a glance at the American. Arthur didn’t think he’d ever seen Alfred stay quiet for so long before. It was a little unnerving, to tell the truth. He actually kind of wished that Alfred would fill the air with his mindless chatter like usual so that they wouldn’t be suffocated by the heavy silence. Perhaps Alfred had eaten too much and was feeling sick. He could think of no other reason for the other boy to be so quiet and have such a discontented look on his face.

“I can go alone from here,” Arthur said finally, when he couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “Your dormitory is in the opposite direction, after all.”

“It’s only a little farther,” Alfred replied stubbornly. “It’s not a big deal for me to go the rest of the way.”

“Alfred, as much as I appreciate your efforts to protect me from ‘the evil pneumonia dragon’, I assure you that I’ll be fine alone,” he insisted.

“Come on,” Alfred said, taking his arm and pulling him in the direction of Arthur’s dorm. “It’s getting colder the later we stay out.”

Arthur sighed. He had had enough of Alfred’s thickheaded antics for one night. He was worn out and bothered by what had happened back at McDonal*’s and couldn’t tolerate the stifling quiet any more. “How clueless can you be?” he asked tiredly. “I tried being polite about it but you don’t seem to get it. Can’t you see that I don’t want to walk with you?”

Alfred stared at him blankly, his sky blue eyes wide behind his glasses.

“I keep trying to shake you off, but you just won’t take a hint!” Arthur continued, his voice rising unintentionally in desperation. “Just leave me be! I can’t stand being near you!”

“You… really hate me that much?” Alfred asked quietly.

“Well, you hate me, too, right?!” Arthur demanded. “You’re always telling me how boring I am, telling me that my food tastes awful, saying that I ruin your fun! And that time last year in the hospital when I almost died, you… you were happy about it!” He cursed as his eyes filled with tears, his face flushing again in humiliation.

“Whoa, back up,” Alfred said, holding up a hand. “You really thought I meant all that stuff?”

“You’re always cutting me off when I’m trying to tell you important things!” he ranted. “You’re always ignoring me! You’re always telling me over and over how little I mean to you! I… I’m sick of it! I don’t need to take that shit from you anymore!”

“How was I supposed to know you were taking all that stuff so seriously?!” Alfred asked, his own voice sounding almost as frustrated as Arthur’s. “I was just trying to have a little fun with you!”

“That’s exactly what I mean!” Arthur snapped. “You were treating me like absolute rubbish just for your own enjoyment! You don’t even see me as your equal! I’m just a senile old man who gets in the way of your fun! I’m… I’m nothing but a joke to you!”

“If it bothered you so much when I said that stuff, why didn’t you ever say anything?! Why did you just put up with it?!”

“I thought that if I let you keep being horrible to me, eventually I would be able to convince myself to fall out of love with you!” Arthur blurted. “Fat lot of good that plan did me!”

Alfred stared at him again, his face arranged into an expression of absolute shock and puzzlement. “Wh-what?” he managed weakly.

“I love you…” Arthur choked, his tears spilling over his deeply flushed cheeks. There was a moment of silence between them once more, each wondering what his next move should be.

Alfred reached out to him. “A-Arthur…”

Arthur didn’t want to stick around and hear the taller boy turn him down. He sniffled wetly and tried to forcefully wipe his tears away but they just kept coming. “Damn it!”

He spun on his heel and dashed off into the rain, sprinting for his dorm as fast as his legs would carry him. How utterly degrading, being so stupid as to let it slip that he loved Alfred and then running off crying like some hormonal teenage girl. He would never be able to face the American again after this episode. His only option would be to change schools immediately. That would certainly solve his problems. If he never saw Alfred again, eventually his unfortunate love for him would fade and he would become just another dimly painful memory.

Suddenly, something warm and strong caught his arm. Arthur whirled around to see that Alfred had run after him and had grabbed hold in order to stop him. The umbrella lay abandoned on the ground a few yards back. Arthur turned away from him, making another attempt to wipe away his tears. It was bad enough that Alfred had seen them once; he wasn’t going to let him see them again.

“Aren’t you even gonna give me a chance to reply?” Alfred asked quietly. If Arthur hadn’t had his back to him, he would have seen that the American’s face was arranged into a thoroughly un-Alfred-like expression, one of remorse and desperation.

Arthur clenched his teeth and said nothing, knowing that if he opened his mouth, his weak, shaking voice would only humiliate him more. He clamped his eyes shut, bracing himself for the rejection. It never came. Instead, warm, strong arms tugged him closer, wrapping firmly around his waist. An unexpectedly gentle hand came up and lifted his chin, forcing him to look into those wide blue eyes that he simultaneously loved and hated. Alfred’s fingers came up and wiped away the mixture of hot tears and cold rain that ran down Arthur’s cheeks.

“I’ve always loved you,” he breathed in the shorter boy’s ear. “Ever since the first day we met.”

Arthur was so stunned that all he could do was gape. Surely Alfred was messing with him like he always did. He didn’t really mean it. But then Alfred lowered his lips to Arthur’s face, kissing his tears away almost shyly. If Arthur hadn’t been experiencing it, he would never have imagined that shyness was even in Alfred’s emotional repertoire. Soft, hesitant lips moved downward across his cheek, heading slowly towards Arthur’s mouth. They nibbled tentatively at the corner of his lips, as if requesting permission to continue. Normally, Alfred would have just gone for it, but after Arthur’s outburst, he realized that he needed to convince the shorter boy that he really did respect him, that his wishes mattered to him. Arthur hesitated, and for a second, Alfred was worried that he would be rejected.

Finally, Arthur shifted, brushing their lips together, inviting Alfred to claim them. Alfred couldn’t resist grinning slightly as he opened his mouth a bit, kissing him slowly and deliberately. Alfred’s mouth tasted, surprisingly, not of the Big Mac he had just eaten, but peppermint, the flavor sweet and pleasing to Arthur’s taste buds. Oh god, he’d wanted this for so long. Alfred’s tongue slipped into his mouth, caressing his with a sort of inexperienced charm. Arthur didn’t even care that he was being soaked through to the bone. All that mattered was this moment, this action.

Time stood still for them at that moment. The warmth and emotion contained in their kisses drowned out the cold and wet brought on by the rain. Eventually, Alfred’s kisses strayed from Arthur’s mouth and trailed down his throat, drawing a soft moan of pleasure from the British boy as he nipped playfully at the crook of his neck.

“You’re shivering,” Alfred murmured against Arthur’s rain-chilled skin.

“So are you,” Arthur pointed out. “Why don’t you come to my dormitory and dry off? I’ve got a fireplace.”

“Mm, sounds nice,” the American hummed, brushing a final soft kiss against Arthur’s adam’s apple before reluctantly parting from him to retrieve his umbrella.

“There’s hardly a point in using that thing now, is there?” Arthur said as Alfred returned with his umbrella.

Alfred shrugged as he held it over their heads, taking Arthur’s hand in his larger one and lacing their fingers together. “It’s a good excuse to walk closer together,” he grinned, bringing Arthur’s hand up to his mouth and kissing the back of it.

Arthur blushed slightly but didn’t pull away. Silence enveloped them once more, though not the strained silence that had plagued them earlier. This was a warm silence, a contented silence, colored by the excitement brought on by the start of something new and long awaited. Arthur didn’t mind this silence. He peered covertly in his new boyfriend’s direction. Alfred’s normally silky blond hair was plastered to his head, his tanned cheeks flushed, his glasses speckled with water droplets, but none of this hindered the wide, silly smile on his face. Arthur couldn’t stop his lips from quirking upward as well, simultaneously exasperated by Alfred’s smile and enamored with it.

Alfred glanced at him, caught him staring, and turned that blinding grin in his direction. Arthur cleared his throat, flushing deeply, and hurriedly looked away, but the taller boy had already seen. He leaned over and kissed the sensitive spot where Arthur’s ear met his jaw, drawing another little shiver from him.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that before,” he purred.

“Oh, bugger off,” Arthur replied without his usual venom, trying force his lips back into their usual frown. It wasn’t working; he was just too happy.

“It’s nice,” Alfred assured him, his already flushed cheeks reddening half a shade more. “You should do it more often. But then, why wouldn’t you, now that you’ve got the awesomest guy on the planet for a boyfriend?”

“Shut up, you prat,” Arthur said good-naturedly. “You’re ruining the moment.”

Alfred laughed and was about to let that contented silence swallow them once more when Arthur sneezed. The British boy sniffled, rubbing his nose.

“Excuse me,” he said. Then he sneezed again. And again. A warm, soft weight landed on his shoulders. Arthur opened his eyes to see Alfred’s bomber jacket draped around him and the American grinning at him again.

“You know,” Alfred began with a truly shit-eating tone, “maybe it’s just my ‘squishy, fat-clogged’ brain, but it almost looks like someone’s starting to catch a cold from being out in the rain too long. But we both know that it’s germs that make people sick and never the rain, so I guess it’s just my imagination.”

Arthur blushed. “It’s allergy season,” he lied pathetically, trying and failing to stifle another sneeze.

“In the middle of November, right,” Alfred said, rolling his eyes. The American tucked their joined hands into his pocket, drawing his arms in close to compensate for the loss of warmth when he had handed over his jacket. “Stupid school, building their dorms so far away,” he grumbled as he shivered.

“It’s because you dragged us all the way over to McDonal*’s!” Arthur reminded him a little irritably.

“Good thing I had that burger,” Alfred continued. “Those things’ll stop a cold dead in its tracks. That’s what you get for ordering a…”

Arthur glanced up at him curiously as the taller boy trailed off suddenly. Alfred sneezed loudly twice, startling the British boy. Arthur raised an eyebrow at him.

“Damn,” the American mumbled.

By the time they arrived at Arthur’s dorm, the two of them were thoroughly miserable. Arthur flicked on the fireplace and breathed a sigh of relieve as the heat flooded out to greet them. Alfred hunched down in front of it, shivering madly, as Arthur grudgingly tore himself away from the warmth and his new lover’s side to get blankets and a change of clothes for them both. He could hear Alfred blowing his nose while Arthur searched his closet for something that would fit the taller boy.

He returned with an oversized t-shirt and a pair of stretchy sweat pants to find that Alfred had pushed the couch closer to the hearth. Alfred accepted the dry clothes from him and gave him a conflicted look that told him that Alfred was thinking the exact same thing he was. If only they weren’t feeling so crappy, this would be the perfect opportunity to explore their new, ah… territory.

Arthur cleared his throat in embarrassment and looked down at his feet. “Perhaps next time,” he muttered. Alfred sniffled and nodded before stripping off his wet shirt.

Once they were dressed, Alfred wrapped Arthur in one of the blankets he had brought out for them, swept him into his arms and brought him over to the couch. Arthur stretched himself out on top of Alfred’s warm, shivering body, snuggling his face into the crook of the other boy’s neck as Alfred draped another blanket around both of them. In spite of his physical misery, Arthur couldn’t help feeling rather pleased about being cuddled up in front of the fire with his new boyfriend. He allowed himself a small smile when Alfred began stroking his hair and kissing the top of his head.

“I take it you’ll be staying awhile?” Arthur asked, trying not to sound as hopeful as he felt.

“Yeah,” he breathed into Arthur’s hair before kissing the rim of his ear. “I really don’t feel like going back out there.”

The British boy slipped his arms around Alfred’s torso, attempting to burrow even deeper into his pleasant warmth. His stuffy nose was just able to pick up the subtle, calming scent of Alfred’s cologne and he breathed it deeply, trying to memorize it. Alfred’s warm hand slipped under Arthur’s t-shirt and began running his nails lightly up and down his lover’s back, raising little goosebumps of pleasure.  Arthur could feel himself growing incredibly sleepy and knew that it would be only a matter of minutes until he nodded off. He kissed Alfred’s collarbone.

“G’night,” he mumbled.

Alfred returned the kiss with several along the back of Arthur’s neck before nuzzling his nose into Arthur’s choppy blond hair. “G’night.”

Arthur awoke the next morning much earlier than he wanted to when the alarm on his cell phone, which he had set to wake him up for school, went off. He moaned and buried his face in Alfred’s chest, trying to block out the noise that was causing his already throbbing head to hurt even worse. Alfred shifted beneath him, attempting a sniffle, but finding his nose completely stuffed up. The two of them groped around on the floor for the box of tissue Alfred had left there last night and ended up finding each other’s hands. Alfred brought Arthur’s hand up to his mouth and kissed the back of it groggily.

“Ugggh… You feeli’g as crappy as I ab?” he asked in a horribly congested voice.

“Probably,” Arthur replied, his voice sounding similarly nasal. “Bloody hell, I thigk by head’s goi’g to split oped.”

Alfred’s large hand came up to push back his bangs and warm lips pressed against his forehead, checking his temperature. “You’ve got a hell of a fever.”

Arthur disentangled his hand from his blanket and touched Alfred’s forehead. “So have you.”

“I dod’t wadda get up,” Alfred groaned.

“Well, we cad’t very well call id sick, cad we?” Arthur pointed out unhappily. “Dot with all that work for the culture festival still waiti’g for us.”

The two of them sneezed at the same time and moaned in unison.

“We cad leave it to Ludwig and Kiku for ode day, cad’t we?” Alfred begged. “I’b sure they cad haddle it. I dod’t dow about you, but by braid’s fried; we’d probably just screw it up adyway.”

Alfred had a point there. Arthur’s wandering fingers managed to locate his cell phone on the floor beside the couch and he picked it up, intending to call them in sick.

“People will probably be suspicious with the two of us out sick od the sabe day,” he mumbled, his already fever-flushed cheeks reddening further at the thought. “That wido-bastard’s beed spreadi’g dasty rubors about us for bodths.”

“Fuck it,” Alfred said. “I’b feeli’g too shitty a’d too id love with you to care.”

Arthur snorted, but couldn’t help cracking another small smile as he began to dial the school attendance office.
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america, england, hetalia, fan fiction

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