bukku_oosa
in
usxuk
[Secret Santa 2012 Fic] Smile, My Dearest Darling
TITLE: mile, My Dearest Darling
AUTHOR bukku_oosa
RECIPIENT musichika_tg
GENRE: omance, Fluff, Rusty USUK, don't judge me
RATINGS/WARNINGS: + for Alfred's very potty mouth. Lots of swearing, and huggling. Viewer discretion is advised.
SUMMARY: Prompt America had a hard day at work and England tries his best to comfort him. Perhaps some bed cuddling or making out?
NOTES Established!USUK, Alfred and Arthur are married here, and I hope they like this! It's been a while since I USUK'd.
Deadlines, hang-ups, communication disasters.
Alfred knocked his forehead against the top of his car’s wheel, groaning as he felt his phone vibrate in its holder strapped pitifully next to the air con vent.
Bitching, murmuring, spilled coffee on out-documents.
“Yes, yes, I’ll get it done over the weekend. Jeez, it’s three fucking days before New Year’s eve.”
Unfinished drafts, deleted works, broken-down printers.
“I’ll get them to send it to me the moment they’re done, chief, promise. I’ll get it in on time, I swear!”
Traffic jams, pollution, noisy car horns.
“God fucking damn it!”
Growling, Alfred kicked his car door shut, his head spinning as he tried to right himself on his feet. Bouncing on the tips of his toes, he tried, oh how he tried, to calm himself down but to no avail. He was far too stressed, too tired, too angry to even properly think. He strode angrily away from his car towards the front door, crossing the snow-covered lawn and the lightly-frosted pathway leading to the door-
“Shit!” Alfred swore, slipping on slippery ice as he neared the door. Luckily his hand quickly grabbed at the handle and he managed to catch himself before he fell. His forehead creased and his brow knotted together in annoyance as he pulled himself up. He looked down at the cobblestone he slipped on and realised it was covered in clear ice. He pulled a face. “Great.” He sighed, “Black ice on the fucking front yard. Just great.”
Shaking his head, he straightened himself up and grumbled. “Best fucking day at work, seriously.” He mumbled, thinking about the first day already-January 2, the second day of the year. How brilliant. “My life sucks,” he complained, sighing, but a small smile crossed his face when he spotted a golden glint on his left ring finger, reminding him just what was it he was coming home to. “… Or maybe not.” He sighed, shaking his head fondly, and opened the door.
“Artie! I’m home!”
There was no response, and Alfred raised an eyebrow. “Babe?” he called, entering the house and closing the door behind him-and suddenly someone hugged him tightly. A bright smile crossed his face as he hugged back. His smile, although genuine, was a little strained. The stress from his job was still haunting the back of his mind, and he was still a little cranky.
“Welcome home, Alfred,” Arthur smiled at up at him, “I heard you had a bad day.”
“Huh?” Alfred slightly strained smile faltered and his hands lowered to the small of Arthur’s back. “Hey, where’d you hear that?”
Arthur grinned at him. “Kiku always calls when something happens.” He smiled, pulling away to pull Alfred to the couch, where there was their dinner laid out on the coffee table, (thankfully not cooked by Arthur, Alfred thought; his husband was just as busy as he was, after all. Writing was sometimes even more taxing than being a multimedia artist in the industry-working at an animation studio was fun-once you get past the stress it comes with) ready for them to eat. “Got your favourites-we’re all-American tonight.”
“Oh, my God. Artie, you’re the best,” Alfred sighed, kissing his husband soundly on his lips.
“I’d better be.” Arthur laughed, kissing Alfred back. “Come on, love. Let’s share today’s sorrows over dinner, shall we?”
“Ever the pessimist.” Alfred snickered, and Arthur simply smiled at him.
“You married me, Alfred; you know to expect no less.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t ask for anyone else in the world.” the blonde grinned. “Let’s eat!”
---
“And then, oh my God, he spilled coffee all over the sketch for the print? Do you have any idea how much time I spent on it? God, seven fucking hours, Artie!” Alfred ranted, waving his can of beer angrily, “I was going to die then, jeez! And then the files, oh my God, the files!”
The two were sitting together, tangled up in each other’s arms as they ate on the sofa, the fire in the fireplace crackling warmly in front them as Alfred ranted to his heart’s content to Arthur’s listening ear.
“I’m sure you’ll pull through, love,” Arthur replied offhandedly, and Alfred poured at him, looking at Arthur mumble into the rim of his bowl of chowder. Arthur noticed Alfred’s pouting and smirked. “Alfred?” he asked, and the blue-eyed man stuck his tongue out at him.
“You don’t look like you care.” He replied, poking Arthur’s cheek, and the elder man laughed, batting Alfred’s hand away before planting a soft kiss on Alfred’s cheek.
“Love, I do care. Also, I heard you swearing outside. Did the black ice get you, too?” he asked, and Alfred smirked at his husband.
“You too? You slipped on black ice? You, Arthur Kirkland-Jones, sass queen and swan princess?” Alfred snickered, and Arthur scowled at him.
“For goodness’ sake, just because I did ballet in primary school does not mean-” Arthur began to scold, but Alfred merely laughed and grabbed his hands, putting aside the bowl of chowder before pulling Arthur in to kiss him. “Bloody cheat,” Arthur muttered against Alfred’s lips, but he was smiling as he kissed back, wringing his wrists out of Alfred’s grip and wrapping his arms around Alfred’s neck to deepen it.
Grinning into the kiss, Alfred hugged Arthur close to himself as they tumbled around in the sofa, chuckling into each other’s mouths as they kissed and kissed, with warm, loving open-mouthed kisses. Parting for air, the two of them looked at each other and laughed.
“Feel better, love?” Arthur asked, looking up at Alfred with an eyebrow raised coyly, and Alfred snickered down at Arthur.
“Maybe another kiss, babe?” he grinned down at him. “The coffee incident’s still getting to me.”
“Keep this up and we’ll end up with cold dinner and Jack Frost nipping at our noses.” Arthur smirked at Alfred, and his husband laughed brightly, rubbing his and Arthur’s noses together.
“Well then, I’ll nip at yours before he does, babe.” He winked, and Arthur laughed.
“Do me a favour, Alfred, love, and don’t ever speak those kinds of lines to me again.” Arthur replied, and Alfred, ever defiant smirked.
“I don’t know,” Alfred drawled, shrugging, “You did say yes when I asked you to marry me.”
Arthur shook his head, fondly exasperated. “Just kiss me, you git.”
“As you wish.” Alfred winked. “That means I love you, by the way.”
“Yes, love, I know.” Arthur chuckled. “That was the first thing you ever told me.”
The two shared a kiss as outside, snow began to fall.
AUTHOR bukku_oosa
RECIPIENT musichika_tg
GENRE: omance, Fluff, Rusty USUK, don't judge me
RATINGS/WARNINGS: + for Alfred's very potty mouth. Lots of swearing, and huggling. Viewer discretion is advised.
SUMMARY: Prompt America had a hard day at work and England tries his best to comfort him. Perhaps some bed cuddling or making out?
NOTES Established!USUK, Alfred and Arthur are married here, and I hope they like this! It's been a while since I USUK'd.
Deadlines, hang-ups, communication disasters.
Alfred knocked his forehead against the top of his car’s wheel, groaning as he felt his phone vibrate in its holder strapped pitifully next to the air con vent.
Bitching, murmuring, spilled coffee on out-documents.
“Yes, yes, I’ll get it done over the weekend. Jeez, it’s three fucking days before New Year’s eve.”
Unfinished drafts, deleted works, broken-down printers.
“I’ll get them to send it to me the moment they’re done, chief, promise. I’ll get it in on time, I swear!”
Traffic jams, pollution, noisy car horns.
“God fucking damn it!”
Growling, Alfred kicked his car door shut, his head spinning as he tried to right himself on his feet. Bouncing on the tips of his toes, he tried, oh how he tried, to calm himself down but to no avail. He was far too stressed, too tired, too angry to even properly think. He strode angrily away from his car towards the front door, crossing the snow-covered lawn and the lightly-frosted pathway leading to the door-
“Shit!” Alfred swore, slipping on slippery ice as he neared the door. Luckily his hand quickly grabbed at the handle and he managed to catch himself before he fell. His forehead creased and his brow knotted together in annoyance as he pulled himself up. He looked down at the cobblestone he slipped on and realised it was covered in clear ice. He pulled a face. “Great.” He sighed, “Black ice on the fucking front yard. Just great.”
Shaking his head, he straightened himself up and grumbled. “Best fucking day at work, seriously.” He mumbled, thinking about the first day already-January 2, the second day of the year. How brilliant. “My life sucks,” he complained, sighing, but a small smile crossed his face when he spotted a golden glint on his left ring finger, reminding him just what was it he was coming home to. “… Or maybe not.” He sighed, shaking his head fondly, and opened the door.
“Artie! I’m home!”
There was no response, and Alfred raised an eyebrow. “Babe?” he called, entering the house and closing the door behind him-and suddenly someone hugged him tightly. A bright smile crossed his face as he hugged back. His smile, although genuine, was a little strained. The stress from his job was still haunting the back of his mind, and he was still a little cranky.
“Welcome home, Alfred,” Arthur smiled at up at him, “I heard you had a bad day.”
“Huh?” Alfred slightly strained smile faltered and his hands lowered to the small of Arthur’s back. “Hey, where’d you hear that?”
Arthur grinned at him. “Kiku always calls when something happens.” He smiled, pulling away to pull Alfred to the couch, where there was their dinner laid out on the coffee table, (thankfully not cooked by Arthur, Alfred thought; his husband was just as busy as he was, after all. Writing was sometimes even more taxing than being a multimedia artist in the industry-working at an animation studio was fun-once you get past the stress it comes with) ready for them to eat. “Got your favourites-we’re all-American tonight.”
“Oh, my God. Artie, you’re the best,” Alfred sighed, kissing his husband soundly on his lips.
“I’d better be.” Arthur laughed, kissing Alfred back. “Come on, love. Let’s share today’s sorrows over dinner, shall we?”
“Ever the pessimist.” Alfred snickered, and Arthur simply smiled at him.
“You married me, Alfred; you know to expect no less.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t ask for anyone else in the world.” the blonde grinned. “Let’s eat!”
---
“And then, oh my God, he spilled coffee all over the sketch for the print? Do you have any idea how much time I spent on it? God, seven fucking hours, Artie!” Alfred ranted, waving his can of beer angrily, “I was going to die then, jeez! And then the files, oh my God, the files!”
The two were sitting together, tangled up in each other’s arms as they ate on the sofa, the fire in the fireplace crackling warmly in front them as Alfred ranted to his heart’s content to Arthur’s listening ear.
“I’m sure you’ll pull through, love,” Arthur replied offhandedly, and Alfred poured at him, looking at Arthur mumble into the rim of his bowl of chowder. Arthur noticed Alfred’s pouting and smirked. “Alfred?” he asked, and the blue-eyed man stuck his tongue out at him.
“You don’t look like you care.” He replied, poking Arthur’s cheek, and the elder man laughed, batting Alfred’s hand away before planting a soft kiss on Alfred’s cheek.
“Love, I do care. Also, I heard you swearing outside. Did the black ice get you, too?” he asked, and Alfred smirked at his husband.
“You too? You slipped on black ice? You, Arthur Kirkland-Jones, sass queen and swan princess?” Alfred snickered, and Arthur scowled at him.
“For goodness’ sake, just because I did ballet in primary school does not mean-” Arthur began to scold, but Alfred merely laughed and grabbed his hands, putting aside the bowl of chowder before pulling Arthur in to kiss him. “Bloody cheat,” Arthur muttered against Alfred’s lips, but he was smiling as he kissed back, wringing his wrists out of Alfred’s grip and wrapping his arms around Alfred’s neck to deepen it.
Grinning into the kiss, Alfred hugged Arthur close to himself as they tumbled around in the sofa, chuckling into each other’s mouths as they kissed and kissed, with warm, loving open-mouthed kisses. Parting for air, the two of them looked at each other and laughed.
“Feel better, love?” Arthur asked, looking up at Alfred with an eyebrow raised coyly, and Alfred snickered down at Arthur.
“Maybe another kiss, babe?” he grinned down at him. “The coffee incident’s still getting to me.”
“Keep this up and we’ll end up with cold dinner and Jack Frost nipping at our noses.” Arthur smirked at Alfred, and his husband laughed brightly, rubbing his and Arthur’s noses together.
“Well then, I’ll nip at yours before he does, babe.” He winked, and Arthur laughed.
“Do me a favour, Alfred, love, and don’t ever speak those kinds of lines to me again.” Arthur replied, and Alfred, ever defiant smirked.
“I don’t know,” Alfred drawled, shrugging, “You did say yes when I asked you to marry me.”
Arthur shook his head, fondly exasperated. “Just kiss me, you git.”
“As you wish.” Alfred winked. “That means I love you, by the way.”
“Yes, love, I know.” Arthur chuckled. “That was the first thing you ever told me.”
The two shared a kiss as outside, snow began to fall.