Of Storms and Snuggles
I started writing this after I visited a university's open house. Mom was shopping and I was just sitting, waiting for her to finish. I had very little paper so I ended up writing on a university pamphlet in small gaps of space. I was sure glad to have regular paper when I got home!
I just wanted them to snuggle, really, that was all.
Disclaimer: So many stories, so little time!
Of Storms and Snuggles
It had started off as a pretty decent day, but the weather had turned for the worst around midday. Big storm clouds had approached Great Britain and they were threatening of unleashing a pretty nasty rain storm.
Arthur had been expecting a visit from Alfred today, but when he had heard that the airports had been closed down in both their respective lands because of similar weather conditions, he had been quite sure that the American wouldn't show up a few hours later at his doorstep, soaking wet.
"Dear Lord, Alfred, did you walk all the way here?" He asked his former colony the moment he saw him. He couldn't imagine how someone could get so wet from simply walking from the driveway to the front door.
"Well, actually, the car I rented broke down about two miles away from your place and with all this rain, there was no way that I could see anything under the hood of the car. The phone lines are completely dead as well and I didn't feel like bunking in a car with your shitty weather, so I walked here." Alfred said as he pushed past Arthur to get inside where it was warm and dry.
"Haven't you ever heard of something called an umbrella?" The older of the two chided him as he went to get a towel for his guest.
"Actually, I have, but it got blown away." Alfred replied from the entrance. When Arthur came back with the towel, he dried off his former charge. For a moment, the two of them were reminded of a distant past where England had dried him off after America had remained outside during a rain storm. Arthur then asked him to remove his top layer of clothing so that he could put them to dry while he went to get him some dry clothes.
America quickly removed his bomber jacket, his shirt and gave England his socks and shoes as well simply leaving him in his pants. Arthur tried hard not to blush when he caught sight of Alfred's glistening chest and left for the laundry room. America sniggered as he finished drying himself off. When Arthur returned, he had some dry clothes in his hands which he handed to the half naked man.
"You still have these?" Alfred asked when he saw the garments. He immediately recognized them as his very old pyjamas from the times when he had still been a colony. He realized that this pair went back to shortly before his war for independence had started.
"Obviously I do. In theory, they should still fit. Unless those ungodly hamburgers of yours have bloated you up." England smirked and dodged America's arm as he tried to hit him.
"Shall I make you something to warm you up?" Arthur asked just like the perfect gentleman that he was.
"Yeah, sure, d'you have any coffee?"
"What do you think?" England said glaring at him. Sometimes, he really wondered what had happened to the once intelligent young boy he had educated.
"Alright then, what do you have?" Alfred asked, fearing that he would have to submit himself to drinking tea.
"I have tea, but knowing you, you wouldn't appreciate it. I do have hot cocoa and if memory serves me right, you used to like it as a lad." America nodded to the suggestion and followed his host to the kitchen. He sat at the table as he watched Arthur make the drink.
Once the drinks were made, England sat at the table and handed America his cup. They drank in companionable silence and eventually, they got to discussing about trivial little things.
When a few hours had gone by, Arthur looked outside the kitchen window and noticed that the storm hadn't gotten any better. If anything, it had gotten progressively worse.
"There's no way I'm letting you go out there on a storm like this. Knowing you, you would find a way to drown." Even though England was insulting him, America knew that it was his own way of saying that he cared for the younger country's well being.
"That's okay; I can bunk in your guestroom." As much as Arthur would have loved putting Alfred in the guestroom or in any other room for that matter, even his old bedroom; the problem was that the entire floors of most of those rooms were getting redone. The ones that still had a floor, though, were being used as either storage rooms or didn't have any beds or mattresses in them anymore. And quite naturally, England hadn't received any of his new furniture yet.
"Well, you can have my room and I'll take the couch. It's the polite thing to do." The older country said through gritted teeth. He couldn't believe that it had come down to this. Why did he have to be so bloody prim and proper all the time? What had happened to the good old days where he would simply rob people and carry away his precious loot?
"Nah, it's okay England, I'll crash on your couch. I used to do it all the time when I was here."
"You git. Do you ever remember waking up on the couch?" America was silent for a moment. Now that he thought of it… no.
"That's right; I used to carry you up to your bedroom every time you used to fall asleep on the couch. Now, you'll take my room and I don't want to hear another word about it, okay?" America was still absorbing this information so he merely nodded. He had never known that Arthur had cared so much, but then again, it had been before he had decided to declare independence. Alfred finally snapped out of his reverie and went upstairs.
England was somewhat sleeping peacefully when he was rudely awakened by a very loud and vulgar thunder clasp. It was soon followed by lightening and a quick 'voosh' as the power went out in his house. When the window abruptly opened next to him, he found a candle to light up and then when to shut it close. Once that was done, England heard another window clatter upstairs. Figuring that America would never close it, let alone hear it, Arthur made his way to the floor above to check up on his house.
The scenario felt oddly familiar what with the added candle that he was using as his only light source. It reminded him too much of the times when electricity and proper insulation hadn't even been created yet. He went to close the window and then stopped in front of his room and listened at the door. He opened it to check that everything was alright with his guest and couldn't help but walk in. How many times had he checked up on the young America when he had been under his care?
Arthur set the candle down on the nightstand and watched the sleeping figure for a while. He unconsciously sat down next to the younger man and pushed away some stray strands of hair that were on Alfred's face. For a moment, England wasn't sure if he was looking at the younger America or the obnoxious and loud man he had become. Asleep, the two looked almost identical. The occasional worry lines were gone and Alfred's skin was almost as smooth as it had been those many years ago.
America mumbled something incoherent in his sleep and moved closer to the hand that was stroking his face. He then sighed in content and said something that was quite clearly understood by the one who was still awake.
"'ngland's better 'n 'amburgers." He rolled over to his side and gave out a soft snore. England's heart skipped a beat. He wasn't quite sure what to make of this. He thought about it for a moment and a soft smile came to his lips.
"I love you too, you sodding git." Arthur murmured affectionately. He bent down and placed a small kiss on the corner of Alfred's lips. He was going to get up and return to his couch, but he then nearly well had a heart attack.
"You missed." America whispered as he opened his eyes and smirked when England almost jumped out of his skin.
"You blubbering baboon! I thought you were asleep!" Arthur hissed out.
"I was, until you spoke." Alfred said, trying to hide a yawn.
"You mean to tell me that you didn't hear the thunder, but you heard my voice?" When he saw America's eyes widen in shock, England mentally slapped himself. He had forgotten that Alfred was/had been afraid of thunder storms.
"Please don't tell me that you're still afraid even after all these years." Arthur murmured more to himself than to the other man who only chuckled nervously.
"Old habits die hard?" He tried himself out. England simply rolled his eyes.
"If that's the case then, move over. There's no way you'll be able to sleep and I don't want you to come running down to me on the couch." America didn't say a word and moved over. He was touched that England still remembered these small traits of his and that he cared in his own special way, but it didn't remove from the awkward silence that came between them.
"Were you being serious, earlier?" America finally asked.
"Only if you are." England nearly whispered. Lucky for Alfred that Arthur was so close, or else he wouldn't have heard a word.
"In that case, I want a proper goodnight kiss." America could see England turn every imaginable shade of red, but he still bent down closer and gently put his lips on the younger man's.
"Much better." Alfred whispered against Arthur's lips.
"Good, now get some sleep." England said as he got more comfortable.
"M'kay, goodnight Iggy." America raised his head and pecked Arthur on the lips before snuggling up to him. He put his head on England's stomach and had an arm draped possessively across his chest.
England tensed up at first. He hadn't been expecting such close proximity, but then again, when it came to the exuberant nation, he shouldn't have expected anything less. He relaxed once America stopped fidgeting and allowed himself to smile.
"Good night, love." He murmured before closing his eyes and drifting off into sleep.
Yay, it is finished! So the initial idea came from the part of "you missed". Then I had to give it flesh. So let me know what you thought of it!
Started writing: November 8th 2009, 1:02pm
Finished writing: November 10th 2009, 5:40pm
Started typing: November 11th 2009, 6:51pm
Finished typing: November 11th 2009, 8:45pm