[Fanfiction] Secret Santa Post
TITLE: Untitled
AUTHOR: theos99
RECIPIENT: chappuholic
GENRE: Romance/humor/hurtcomfort
PAIRING(S): usxuk (just to be sure)
RATINGS/WARNINGS: PG-13 (although it probably could count in as a PG)
SUMMARY: Prompt: Due to a blizzard, Arthur winds up staying at Alfred's house. Alfred gives him a spare pajamas, and Arthur winds up looking adorable with oversized clothes, and Alfred marvels how "cute" he is. And Arthur winds up being a klutz because the clothes are too damn big, and Alfred decides to be "Prince Charming".
NOTES: The date prompt and the fluffy part of the prompts died as a result of a bad breakup. I'm very very sorry for not posting this on time and not having a very fluffy fic but I promise that I will get back to the date prompt fic once I've gotten over this time.
“We should probably get you out of those clothes,” Alfred grinned, his breath ghosting over Arthur as he stepped a bit closer. Arthur felt something in his heart catch as the American’s hand skimmed lightly over his sodden blazer. “Alfred - ”
Leaning slightly forward, Arthur slowly closed his eyes. After a few seconds, his brow furrowed. It normally shouldn’t have taken his former colony that long to ki-, to reach him and what was that snorting sound -
He shrieked as a pile of softness smacked him in the face. Arthur reached out a hand blindly and yanked the offending article from his eyes. A blinding blue and red emblazoned Superman logo greeted him. Arthur directed a glare at the quivering bundle of giggling American on the floor and stomped off towards the bathroom to change.
Alfred hiccupped into his hand and grinned. It was just too easy to rile up Iggy. Raising his head, he called out towards the stairs, “Come on, old man! You haven’t gotten caught up by all the…”
His voice trailed off as he took in the sight before him. And watched stray drops of water slide down Arthur’s flaxen hair to drip wet puddles on his carpet floor.
Although the nations were only two centimeters apart in height, Alfred was far more heavily-built (due to the courtesy of either McDonald’s or football, depending on who you were asking). As a result Arthur looked like he was swimming in Alfred’s pajamas. It was, as Alfred disconcertedly discovered, rather…cute.
“What are you gawking at, you dolt?”
Alfred snapped out of his reverie. Plastering a shit-eating grin on his face, he chortled, “Aww…Iggy! I guess all those weight-lifting exercises didn’t help?”
“You- you - you asshole!” Green eyes lit with anger, the British man lunged forward a few steps to visit more verbal abuse on Alfred when he suddenly tripped. He had just enough time to think, “That bloody frog will never let me hear the end of this,” when he found himself hitting a warm, soft body. His elbow slammed into something soft and a groan arose from the American below him.
They stayed like that for a moment before Arthur immediately began to struggle to get up. He had scarcely taken a few fumbling steps forward before his oversized pajama bottoms caught on the rug and made him stumble for the second time this wretched night (though fortunately, he was close enough to the wall this time to catch himself with it).
An odd strangled sound floated up from the ground. Arthur glanced back down at his former charge and noted in a vague sort of way that his ears were rather red. It reminded him of the picnic they had had a few centuries ago when neither of them would have even hesitated to close that last few feet between themselves but that was all past them anyways…
A voice broke through the sudden upsurge of his memories, “You know, you look really funny in that outfit. I bet Francis - ”
“What about Francis!”
Alfred raised his hands, his baby blue eyes flashing with confusion, “Wohh, Iggy, I know the two of you have some history between you, but really -”
“If it wasn’t for that stupid prat I would be home in my own bed dressed in actual nightwear that didn’t hang off my shoulders and trip me! And I wouldn’t have to be stuck with an even more obnoxious idiot -”
“Iggy - ”
“who isn’t capable of any manners - ”
“Arthur - ”
“and I just wish - ”
“England,” a pair of broad hands wrapped around Arthur’s shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug. Arthur grabbed hold of Alfred’s shirt and tried to push himself away from the American but the arms encircling him were too strong. Suddenly spent, he buried his head into it. They remained in their locked position, and the only indication of the shorter man’s tears was the American’s arms clenching fractionally.
“Once upon a time,” Arthur stiffened at the sound of the normally abrasively loud voice murmuring so softly.
The speaker’s voice hitched slightly then went on in the same calm manner.
“Once upon a time, there was a little boy. He lived in a forest and was happy with all of his woodland friends - the rabbits, sparrows, and deer. But something was missing, something he didn’t have until another boy came into the forest - ”
“Fairy tales again? Stop being such a child,” Arthur tried to shove his former colony back when he suddenly found himself face to face with a pair of blue eyes boring into him intensely.
“He was everything to him. His father.”
A kiss was pressed to his forehead.
“His brother.”
Something brushed by his cheek.
“An ally.”
Alfred’s face hovered over Arthur’s, their noses barely an inch apart.
“My lover.”
The kiss that came was chaste, barely brushing his lips but there was no hesitation in Alfred’s movements as he gently hoisted the former empire up into his arms. As Alfred’s mouth traveled towards Arthur’s right ear, he whispered, “And they lived happily ever after.”
The light from the lamps caught in his hair, making the strands almost glow under his fingertips. Arthur sighed and tightened his grip on Alfred.
“You better not drop me, you prat.”