Characters: America-Alfred, England-Arthur
Genre: Humour, Romance
"Please England. PLEEEAASSSE" Arthur looked over at his friend to see him with his lip puffed out in a puppy-dog pout and his eyes bigger than normal. Arthur closed his eyes and sighed.
"Fine, I'll do it. BUT. You getting the full deal, you got that?" America nodded, not knowing what he just agreed too. -USUK. Halloween Fic, Pirate!England-
England sat there, calm, collected. Everything was normal, quiet for once.
America wasn't here to annoy him, he was off doing something with Japan, England supposed. He didn't care where the annoying Western Nation was as long as he wasn't bothering him.
He looked back to his book, his eyes darted across the page, left to right and back, left to right and back, over and over, his mind drinking in every word.
He was reading an Edgar Allen Poe book, it was nearing Halloween, about a month away, and the Briton decided that he would change his reading genre for this holiday. Plus, he actually liked the Edgar Allen Poe books and short stories.
He currently was reading Pit In the Pendulum, probably one of his favourites, and he was just at the part where the narrator has realized that the pendulum-scythe is made to cut right through their heart.
"I saw the crescent was designed to cross the region of the heart. It should fray the edge of my robe-it would return and repeat again its operations-"
BANG BANG BANG
"Hey Arthur! I know you're in there, 'cause you have like no social life, so you wouldn't be out! Come on! Open the door Artie!"
BANG BANG BANG
With a loud groan the English nation stood up, holding his books with both hands. He shut the book with his left hand with a loud snap that echoed slightly against his study walls.
He walked through his previously-quiet house, the penetrating sounds of the American's voice was the first thing that made noise in the house for what had been hours, but what seemed like only minutes for the reading British nation. That's what happened when he read. He got lost into the story, he felt like he was there, or that he was the person telling the story, that the things depicted in the book were happening to him. And the only things that could break his almost hypnotic state were his overwhelming need for food, or the almost painful need to go the bathroom. Or when his eyes stung when he blinked from looking at the same spot for so long. Or, more commonly, the blonde American nation who was standing outside his white front door, rather impatiently from what England could see through the frosted glass pane, came and disturbed his hypnotic reading.
He could see America peeking through the glass at him and how he got excited and started smiling happily when England finally got to the door, almost cautiously opening it for him.
The Brit prepared to be hugged or to get some type of physical contact.
And he was right.
Less than a second after the door was opened wide enough, the American pulled England into a hug, which wasn't resisted.
The real reason he didn't resist was because of something that happened between them after one too many drinks on his part, where Alfred had to take his sorry arse home…..among all the other things that had been said or done the following that night.
Gosh, who knew a couple of Drinks* could have changed the relationship between them so much?
Now England wouldn't have admitted that, no he would have said that it was because he knew resistance was futile, and that once Alfred got you into a hug, you're there until he lets you go. Which IS true, but that wasn't the reason that he didn't resist.
England would also say that if he had to be hugged he might as well make it a hug that a gentleman would do, which is why he wrapped his arms around Alfred and hug him back.
Now, of course, normally the returned hug wasn't as half-hearted as it was now, but a real hug. But the fact that the American had interrupted his precious reading, (and right when it was getting good) had him irritated.
Then again it didn't take much for the Brit to get irritated.
Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur's neck and said in an almost arrogant tone, "I knew you weren't out!"
He then let go of Arthur, for once sensing that he was annoyed.
"What the bloody hell do you want Alfred? I was actually enjoying the quiet you know, the way normal people do, but I doubt your loud-mouth even knows what quiet is. I was reading until you rudely interrupted me. You know, I shouldn't have even answered the door."
Alfred pretended to look hurt, before his face brightened to normal as Arthur waved his free hand for Alfred to step into his house.
When Alfred walked into the Brit's house his senses were flooded by such familiar, comforting smells. Mainly that of tea and the general smell of clean. One that America didn't really get at his house…. He didn't understand why, he had put about 20 of those plug-in air-fresheners into the electrical sockets around his house, but it smelled forced and un-natural, unlike Arthurs' house.
The Brit walked back towards his study, before stopping and turning in the direction of his kitchen.
"So, what do you what anyways Alfred?" The Brit walked around the white marble island while America sat down on one of the stools sitting next to the marble countered island, putting one foot on the top of the stool, the other under, perching his chin on his knee and watching England as he opened up one of the cupboards, revealing shelves upon shelves of tea.
The majority were boxes of Earl Gray, but there were other teas as well. Peppermint, English Breakfast, Lady Gray, and Irish Breakfast, only had one or two boxes perched upon the many shelves. Mixed in with the other boxes of tea was a Tupperware container holding some sort of brown ground-up beans with a post-it note saying a simple word: Alfred.
Pulling down the opened box of Earl Gray, Arthur took out a teabag and started to prepare his tea.
"Do you want any Alfred?" Alfred looked away from the many shelves of tea and looked over to see the green eyes looking up expectantly at his.
"Uh, sure Artie, I'll have some."
The Brit had looked down after Alfred had started talking, but Arthur snapped his head back up and looked at Alfred with shock and confusion.
"I...I thought you hated tea….?" Alfred looked back at Arthur again, his gaze had drifted back to the cabinet, his brain trying to figure out what the one container with the post-it note held within.
"No, I don't hate tea, I just prefer coffee." The confused Brit blinked at the American a couple of times before shaking his head gently and fetching a second cup.
"I'm here because I wanted to ask you something Artie." Alfred finally spoke up, looking up from his cup of tea, after the minutes of silence while England had prepared it.
England set his cup down with a small clank and looked up at Alfred, who now had both legs under the stool.
"You know Alfred, you might have a better chance of me answering you question or whatever, if you actually called me by my name." America blinked at England before a faint smile spread across his lips.
"Fine, Arthur, would you do something for me?"
"And what might that be, git?" With the flash of a scowl present for just a second, the American smiled and started talking in his normal, bubbly happy voice of his.
"I want you to dress up with me for Halloween Artie, I'm going to be a cowboy, or military personal, I wouldn't have to buy anything that way…But will you Artie? Please? We could go trick or treating! I've never been trick or treating with you before Artie! It would be so much fun dude! And after we could-"
"Alfred. I didn't say was going to, and I'm not, because I don't want to take part of your rubbish holiday. There isn't any reason for children to be dressing up in sluttly costumes, or costumes that make themselves scared, and go around house to house asking for candy and yelling at hard working people for candy like beggars."
"Ok, we don't have to go trick or treating, we could go to a party or a rave or something, just please, can I get you to dress up, even if it's just this once?"
England sat there, staring at the American's face. He was straining himself, trying to show as much of a pleading look as possible, along with his eyes seemingly getting bigger, resembling that of a puppies' eyes, and his upper lip puckered out over his lower lip.
He thought for a moment more, his mind pondering the ups and downs of what he was about to do.
The positives out-weighed the negatives.
"Fine. I'll dress up Alfred-"
"REALLY? OMG DUDE I'M SO GOING TO HUG Y-"
"I WASN'T FINSHED YOU BLOODY GIT. Now sit down. The ONLY WAY I will dress up, is if 1. We do not go 'trick or treating'; it's an insult to Halloween. 2. I am going to be….in character as you would say, If I'm dressing up, then I'm doing it full force, that means I'm not just dressing up Alfred. If I do this, then you're getting the full deal. 3. You do not bug me or tell anyone about this until Halloween night; not even a peep about it at meetings or when we see each other. And I expect you to show up here after Sunset, when it's dark outside; do I make my rules clear Alfred?"
Alfred sat there for a moment before happily nodding.
"Good. Now, get out of my house." The sandy-haired Brit stood up and grabbed Alfred's arm, and proceeded to drag him out the door.
"Goodbye Alfred, see you Halloween."
"Arthur! Wait! What are you dressing up-"Alfred's question was interrupted by Arthur shutting the door in his face and saying muffled through the door: "You'll see on Halloween, my dear boy."
Dear boy? What the hell?
Alfred sighed and walked to his car, at least he had gotten Arthur to dress up.
And so, so much more, but that was to be revealed later.
Arthur stood in front of his full-length mirror, fiddling with his clothes, his mind already switching over into the state that would remain in his system until tomorrow morning.
Into the almost overly sadistic personality of Pirate England.
Putting on the red coat, the feathered tri-cornered hat, the white puffy shirt with the green broach sitting pretty on the ruffle on his collar, and the knee-boots that folded over at the top, he felt himself sinking deeper and deeper into the captivating waters of his past self that seemed to taunt and call him, which succeeded in dragging him under.
God he missed his old self.
He missed sailing the cerulean seas, the sails high up, practically touching the clouds that drifted overhead.
He fiddled with his hat for the hundredth time since he'd put it on an hour ago, the white fluffy feather liked to drift frontwards, hanging in front of his emerald eyes, just like it did every day back in his pirate days.
BANG BANG BANG
"Showtime." The Brit whispered to himself as he smirked into the mirror. He pivoted on his heels and walked with a calm, confident stride down the hallway. His black boots clicking a rhythm as he strode toward his front door. When the English pirate reached the door his smirk grew wider, the American stood there, looking away, out toward the street, waving at a car that started with a loud Vr-r-r-oum, Vr-r-r-r-oooo-m.
"Alfred." The pirate said, the smirk heard in his voice and tone. The American spun around, his attention gone from the car in the street.
"A-Arthur." Alfred's eyes trailed over the pirates clothes. With a smirk he looked back up at Arthur, who was looking past him, at the car sitting in the street in front of his house.
"Is that France?" Curiosity coated his words, if that was the French nation, he might explode in laughter. Francis would know exactly what would happen if he were to see Arthur like this, he knew how the English Pirate could be.
"Yah, he's going to Canada's tonight, and he gave me a lift here. Why?"
"Oh, no reason Alfred." He waved the American inside, who stepped to his right and into his house. He was still watching the red Ferrari and its driver, the Frenchman laughing within the car, and with a tip of his hat toward the laughing nation, he followed America in.
For the first time he looked America over. Even though it was slightly chilly for October, the American had on a dark green tank top that hugged close to his body, along with baggy camouflage cargo pants, that tucked into laced up black steel-toe boots. A cadet hat sat pretty on his golden wheat hair, which too was camouflage. Arthur reached out and grabbed the dog tags that hung around his neck, the steel square ovals holding tiny print that read:
"Us Army Air Force
Lieutenant Alfred F. Jones"
With a smirk he looked back up at Alfred.
"You look nice Alfred, so…tempting." Alfred's head snapped up, watching with slightly bigger than normal eyes, filled with confusion and sight fear, as the British pirate strode toward him.
"A-Arthur…?" His voice was slightly more than a squeak as the pirate gently shoved him against the wall behind him, Arthur's arms caging him to the wall, Arthur's face dangerously close to his. Arthur eyes showed domination and were dancing with excitement.
"Is something wrong dear boy?" Arthur asked, tilting his head to one side, leaning in slightly closer.
"Um, I-I brought a movie for us to watch..." Arthur, with a moment more gaze looking into the cerulean eyes and seeing the pure fear and excitement that danced within them, stepped back.
He'd have his chance, but he'd let American calm down and get settled.
The pirate's arms dropped to his sides and waved his hand toward the living room. After dropping a lingering gaze of the pirate America turned and walked to the living room, and went to flop down, but decided better of it and just sat down normally, pressed up against the black leather arm rest, as far away from him as possible Arthur noted. The red-coated pirate reached his hand out, and after a moment the American realized what he meant and gave him the DVD. The pirate walked across the beige carpet and put the disk in. Avatar, it took the pirate a moment to realize what it was. Some American movie with big special effect, CGI, and 3D. From what he had heard, from Alfred, American critics and even British critics, it was supposed to be a fairly good film plot-wise, the graphic supposedly breath-taking and captivating, like nothing before.
It was a shame; Arthur actually wanted to see this American film.
Another time, he presumed.
After a while the pirate was getting twitchy. He didn't check how long the movie was, but he didn't think it was 3 hours, which he learned after asking Alfred about an hour in. Dear god if it didn't end soon he'd stab himself in the foot with his saber. He sat there a moment more, watching without absorbing anything from the blue and red HD pictures dancing across the TV. He wasn't going to wait for the movie to end to do something, he decided. He might go insane before the end. After a moment more he figured out what he'd do.
With a wide smirk the English pirate looked over at the American. "Alfred." The nation's voice dripped with underlying seductiveness.
Said American looked over at the pirate who was still smirking at the North American country.
"Yeah, Arthur?" He asked with a curious tone, but it was dripping with suspicion and a hint of fear at the look painted on the Brit's face.
"I'm bored with this film; let's do something….else..." The English pirate reached over at held his face close to Alfred's ear, the last part of his words said in nothing over a whisper. His voice was heavily coated with a seductive tone. Even the dense American could understand the tone, considering that the American usually wasn't very good at reading the atmosphere, the Brit was happy when he could see the blood flush to Alfred's cheeks, telling him the American was catching his drift for once.
Alfred who was holding the remote made the TV blink off with a Zimmm-k.
He slowly turned his head, his eyes mere inches away from the emerald green ones of the Brit's. They were filled with a lusty and a dominating emotion, a new glint of excitement in them that Alfred rarely saw, if ever at all.
"A-Arthur?" Alfred's voice didn't break or crack, but you could drown in the fear and excitement that coated his voice.
"Alfred." The one word made said nation's heart skip one of its already speedy beats. "Arthur, what are you-" His fearful and excited words were cut off with an almost harsh kiss. At first the American didn't know what to do. It was so right, and SO wrong. This was his brother! Not his lover...right? And it's not like he was enjoying the Brit as he pushed him back against the couch, crawling on top of Alfred's lap, pushing the American farther and farther into the Onyx leather couch. And it's not like he liked when the Brit licked his lips a little, nipping as he went...Oh screw this! He kissed the Brit back, opening his mouth enough for Arthur to indulge into it.
Their tongues did there dance, and as Alfred fought for dominance, the Brit came back twice as strong, leaving his mouth and going for the American's lightly-tanned neck, nipping, licking, and sucking as he went along the American's collarbone. Through the moans from the American, it was clear he was surrendering to the English pirate, who was the obvious winner in this small dominance battle.
The pirate's hands skirted up the American's tank top before his arms wrapping around the American's now bare waist. Continuing to suck and lick on the skin near his collarbone.
With one final attempt to win dominance, Alfred rolled off the onyx couch, landing harshly on the beige carpet a foot or two below, which effectively made Arthur stop eating Alfred's collarbone.
Alfred now top reached down and kissed Arthur, pushing him back into the springy carpet. With another roll the pirate was top once more. This time he grabbed Alfred's hands, holding them above his head with one hand. With a small glare and a sigh from Alfred, Arthur set back to making more love-bites on Alfred's neck, but after a moment the pirate stopped and sat up, bringing Alfred with him because one hand was still wrapped possessively around the American's waist.
"Arthur?" Alfred looked with confusion at the British pirate, who was now standing up pulling Alfred up with him.
"Now we can't be getting the floor stained now can we love? Sheets are so much easier to clean." With a nod the American wrapped his now-free arms around Arthur's neck, kissing him all the way up the stairs. Once at the top the pirate hastily opened the door, closing it behind them.
The pair wasn't seen until the next morning, but were well heard through out the night.
When they did emerge, they both wore crazed sex-hair, and somehow, Alfred had lost his pants and shirt, emerging in a wrinkled white shirt and shorts a little too small on him and Arthur nothing but a long puffy white shirt.
*Drinks is an old fic for me, it was a reference to that fic.
Wow. This is kinda long for me; Kiss me you Git only being a little more than 2K, If I Can't have you just shy of 3K. Drinks being my longest fic at the moment at 5001 words. I should go back and kill one word XD
The reason why this isn't M is because like I've said before, I will not being writing an M romance fic anytime soon, M horror or tragedy? Yeah, that's a lot more likely.
Anyways, this took a while to finally start writing this fic on the 30th of last month (10/30) and I'm finishing it the 19 of November. I really need to stop procrastinating.
I have a lot of fics to write and/or type up after I post this one, so look forward to more fics by…the end of the year. That's a pretty safe bet.
Uh, the reason why it's called Fine Print is because Alfred should have read the fine print before he asked Arthur to dress up for Halloween. :3
And Please. I beg you. REVIEW. I like reviews. And critism is welcome as well as error fixes. Which by the means of spelling should be fine because spell-checker is a lovely invention. I hope I wasn't a fail at righting the kissing scene, this being my first full kiss scene, minus a little one in one of my stories I need to type up.
It's a Monday and I'm off this week from school and because I completed this, I'm going to reward myself with a couple games of League of Legends, a MMO I play. League, and lot of dubstep/Skrillex.
Jusqu'à ce que le fic prochaine, au revoir!