Draw A Circle
It had been raining nonstop for the past three days in London, forcing the residents of the city into their homes to sit on their couches and wonder when the weather would take a turn for the better. One resident, however, was determined not to let boredom get the best of him. Arthur Kirkland had decided long ago that when the weather prevented him from going outside he would just have to keep busy inside instead. So, the nation decided on this day that it would be the perfect opportunity to clean out his closet.
In the process of cleaning, his room had become an utter disaster. Clothes that were once hung up in the closet now lay strewn about the bed as he sorted through them and decided what to keep and what to throw away, shoes were scattered about on the floor, and Arthur was deep in his closet going through the many boxes he had stored there and forgotten about. His fairy friends had agreed to help him out (which he was very thankful for since it meant less trips from the closet to the bed) though the extent of what they could carry wasn't very much. They had formed a line and would pass items to one another until said item reached the bed to be looked at later. While they worked they would sing songs in their mythical language that Arthur had always found very soothing despite the fact that he didn't know exactly what it was they were singing about. Living with fairies didn't necessarily mean he understood their language, but he was starting to pick up more and more every time they spoke to one another.
He had just handed off the last shoe to a purple fairy when his hand stumbled over a small box completely covered in dust and hidden from sight. Quirking his brow he reached deeper into the black abyss (he made a mental note to install a light in his closet for the next time he randomly had the urge to clean in here) and pulled the box forward into the light. He blew some of the dust off and was able to make out the word "photos" written in a thick black marker along the side. Placing the box in his lap, he scooted out of the closet and opened it up, curious as to what he would find inside. The second the lid was off more dust floated into the air and Arthur coughed to get the particles from his lungs. He heard the tiny fairies around him sneeze and noticed that they'd stopped working and were hovering over his shoulder to see what he had found. He smiled and looked at them. "We've been working hard. I suppose it's time for a break."
Arthur rummaged through the box for a second before pulling out the first photo and flipping it over to see his own face smiling up at him. The picture dated back to when Alfred had been under his care, for the baby colony was nestled in his arms, staring shyly at the camera as if he didn't trust it. Arthur smiled to himself, remembering the day it was taken which was shortly after he'd gained control over America.
"Who is that?" one of the fairies asked, poking at Alfred's chubby face in the photo.
Arthur looked at the blue fairy perched on his shoulder for a brief moment before turning his attention back to the picture. "That was America when he was a child. I'd looked after him then." He replaced the photo in the box and took out another one, not the least bit surprised when he found it was another picture of himself and Alfred as a child. "I guess this is where I stored all of the photos we took together when he was younger…"
The fairies descended upon the box, now thoroughly interested. Arthur started at first, afraid that the old photographs might get torn, but he was pleasantly surprised by the care the fairies treated the pictures with. Together they went through the entire box together with Arthur recalling various memories of when each photo was taken and telling stories from America's childhood. He felt his heart ache a little when they'd come to the last photo in the box. Was that really all? He had spent so many years raising Alfred, yet these were all the photographs he had?
"Arthur liked raising a baby." The pink fairy commented as they began neatly storing the photos away in the box again.
Arthur felt his face heating up as a paternal smile formed on his face. He gave a nod and scooped up one of the fairies who had tumbled into the box by accident. "I did, but it was a lot of hard work. Alfred got harder to deal with as he got older…" He recalled Alfred's teenaged years and how the term "brat" had become an ordinary part of his vocabulary.
"Arthur wants another baby?" the yellow fairy in his lap questioned, looking up at him with large curious eyes. She had stopped helping and had decided to let her sisters do the rest of the work (sometimes she reminded Arthur a bit of someone he knew).
Arthur found himself choking again, there must have been some stray dust in the air from the photo box. He put his hand over his heart and fought back the tears in his eyes as the particles stung at them. "W-Where did that question come from?" He stared wide eyed at the little yellow fairy.
The fairy merely smiled widely. "It wasn't a question. It's a fact. Arthur wants another baby."
Arthur had to think about this for a moment. Sure, there were days where he missed the sound of a child's laughter, the innocent shine of their eyes, or how they'd seek him out when they were frightened by a nightmare and curl up beside him in bed at night, but that didn't mean he wanted to raise another nation. No, that was too much work and he was far too old to be doing such things. The fairies simply didn't know what they were talking about. "That's ridiculous. I've had my fill of children over the years and I certainly don't need another baby to look after." With a moment's hesitation he silently added, "Alfred is already enough of a handful."
The fairies all stopped what they were doing and seemed to be silently conversing with one another before they broke into quiet but rapid chatter in their native language. Arthur felt like asking them what was going on, but it was all over as quickly as it had started. Five smiling little faces stared up at him, each with a mischievous glint in their eyes. "Arthur Kirkland wants a baby." They all said together, and with that they vanished, leaving Arthur to finish cleaning up on his own.
- - -
The cleaning had taken the rest of the day and it wasn't finished until long after the sun had set. Arthur had worked right through dinner time, determined to finish this task within a day's time. The fairies last words were distracting and not the least bit comforting, but he tried to push it out of his mind. Why had they disappeared like that? Were they planning something? He half expected to find a baby on his doorstep the next morning and was very relieved to find that there was nothing there but the morning paper. The fairies were no where to be found. In fact the only reason Arthur knew they had been there that morning was the fact that there was an unusual amount of fairy dust in his bed. He had to strip the sheets off and shake them out to get rid of all of it. "At least it's stopped raining…"
He headed back inside and into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea to drink while reading his paper. But as he sat down to try and catch up on the news in London he found his mind wandering back to what happened yesterday. He knew it was never a good sign when fairies got that look in their eyes. It almost always meant they were up to no good. But certainly his fairies wouldn't do something he would get angry at them for, right? His fairies only ever wanted to help him, after all (even if they did abandon him to clean up the mess in his room alone yesterday), they had nothing but good intentions. He was so distracted that he'd read the same article heading four times before realizing it and had barely heard the knocking at his door.
Hurriedly, he jumped to his feet, nearly knocking over the chair he had been sitting in, and fled to go and see who was at his doorstep. The knocking only got louder and more persistent the closer he got, and by the time he was three feet away he was positive as to who was on the other side. He wrenched the door open and glared up at his visitor icily. "You couldn't wait one more bloody moment for me to open the door?"
Alfred raised a hand in greeting and flashed him an award winning smile. "Yo, old man!"
Arthur could already feel a headache coming on. He had half a mind to slam the door on America's face, but being the gentleman that he was he politely stood aside and allowed the other nation to enter his home. "What are you doing here?"
Alfred gave a shrug as he took off his bomber jacket and tossed it onto the couch, only to fall beside it shortly after he kicked off his shoes. He grabbed the remote off of the coffee table and flipped the television on to begin some mindless channel surfing. "I had nothing better to do, and I figured you missed me."
"Well, you figured wrong." Arthur ground out as he slammed the door shut and went to fetch Alfred's shoes. Honestly, couldn't he just leave them by the door like a normal person? Why did he have to be such a slob?
Alfred tore his eyes away from the television to watch Arthur sit down beside him. Despite what the Briton might say, he knew he was right. "I can't be wrong. I'm simply too awesome!"
"You're an annoyance, is what you are." Arthur replied grumpily. He sank further into the couch and stared blankly at the television, not paying attention to what was on the screen.
Blue orbs stared curiously at the shorter nation, wondering just what was on his mind. Slowly and quietly, Alfred slid down the couch and wrapped an arm around Arthur's shoulders. He was rewarded as the Briton leaned his head against his broad shoulder and heaved a sigh. That was strange in itself, usually England would push him away and curse at him for making a move like this. Though cuddling on a couch with Arthur was relaxing and all, Alfred felt it was his duty as the hero to find out what was troubling his father figure. "Alright, what's up? You never let me hold you like this, you usually just hit me and call me names."
Shaken from his temporary trance, Arthur looked up into Alfred's eyes. They hadn't changed one bit since he was younger. They were still as blue as the sky, screaming out for freedom and the ability to soar with the birds. Sometimes he felt nostalgic when he stared into them. "It's nothing," he lied, not wanting to worry the other. "Just something the fairies said, is all."
There was a moment of silence…and then Alfred burst out laughing. Arthur could feel the anger rising as he pulled away from the American and smacked his shoulder as hard as he could. "Why are you laughing, you git?! This isn't a joke! It's something I'm really concerned about!"
Alfred continued laughing for several more minutes, rolling around on the couch as Arthur pummeled him, screaming curses into his ear and pinning him down until his laughter stopped completely. Blue met green as the two stared at each other and the smile faded away from Alfred's face to be replaced with a look of concern. "What did they say to you anyway?…"
Arthur grit his teeth. It figured that he'd get a response like this from America. He would be made fun of until the other realized just how serious the situation was and then suddenly England would become top priority. "Maybe I don't feel like telling you now, you little prat."
The American only gave a shrug and shifted Arthur's weight on top of him. He was starting to realize what a compromising position they were in. Arthur's hands were clasped around his wrists, pinning them down to the arm of the couch, and their faces were just inches apart. "If you don't feel like telling me then it must not be all that important," Alfred started, his eyes giving off a gentle look. "Knowing you, you're probably getting yourself all worked up over nothing. I mean, that's what you do every time I say something stupid and we get into a fight over it."
He hated to admit it, but Alfred was right. He was getting all worked up over nothing. So the fairies had said something a little unsettling, big deal. It wasn't like they were going to set out to ruin his life or anything. He hadn't seen neither hide nor hair of them all day so they'd probably already forgotten about it and were off wrecking havoc somewhere else.
America's teeth nipping at his neck quickly brought England from his thoughts. He felt a warm, wet tongue run over his skin and gave a shiver, suddenly realizing what a compromising position they were in. His eyes locked back onto Alfred's and he gave a playful glare. "I suppose you know exactly how to distract me from my problems, don't you?"
Alfred gave a sly smile, running his hand up Arthur's spine to rest at the back of his neck. "Of course," he replied, a hint of lust in his voice. "I always know what to do with you when you get all worked up, Iggy."
Despite how much he hated the nickname, he allowed it to be uttered. Besides, it wasn't like he could do much to stop it, seeing as Alfred had pulled his mouth down on top of his own and was now kissing him fervently. He melted into the kiss, closing his eyes and allowing himself to rest upon Alfred's body. Yes, this was exactly what he needed to distract himself from the meddling of fairies.