After I finished "Cupcakes and Roses" I was still in a violent writing mood. So I went for more 2P's. 2P!UsUk makes me very happy.
Reviews are lovely and much appreciated.
Arthur sighed happily, placing his elbow on the counter. He rested his head in his hand, his blue and pink eyes trained on the man lurking by the kitchen door. They were in someone else's home, about to do horrid things to the homeowner and his partner-in-crime was excited. So excited, it seemed he couldn't contain it. The man shifted his weight from foot to foot, practically dancing. His faithful bat with rusty nails protruding from the top twisted underneath his hands. Even in the low light, Arthur could have sworn he saw his dark red eyes glimmer. Alfred F. Jones was primed for violence.
In a way, Arthur was relieved Alfred was so excited. He had been in such a foul, disgusting mood lately, worse than usual. The stubborn man would not tell Arthur what was wrong no matter how much he pried. Arthur had had enough so he set up this night of fun for his darling. It was nice to see his hard work was paying off.
Alfred glanced over to him and stopped his strange dance. He blushed just slightly, jerking his shoulders up followed by a snarky curl of his lip. The universal sign of "what the hell are you looking at?" that he had perfected over the years. Arthur let out a soft laugh, sat up and walked around the counter. Alfred looked away, anticipation getting the better of him as he started shifting again.
"Not long now dear, he should be home so-" Arthur started. As if on cue, the front door opened. Both men smiled at each other. Arthur walked calmly in place, Alfred stayed by the door raising the bat.
The door closed with a snap. The sound of keys hitting a glass bowl rang through the quiet. Arthur heard him faintly mumble about too many jackets hanging up in "this damn hallway" and then footsteps in their direction. Their target was so easy to predict, heading for the kitchen first. Alfred actually shuddered.
"Tony! You best not have eaten all the hamburgers again. I'll kill you dead!" America's loud voice sang out as he flicked on the kitchen light. That's when Alfred started his attack.
Arthur watched as the bat connected with America's stomach hard. He doubled over, eyes wide with surprise. The fool was only wearing a light white t-shirt so the nails made quick work of his skin. Alfred pulled the bat away and America stumbled over to the counter. He didn't even bother to glance in Arthur's direction, that was good. Everything was going according to plan.
America coughed for a few moments, clutching his stomach, trying to catch his breath. When he finally looked up, Arthur was delighted to see the look of pure confusion spread across his face. It seemed Alfred found it amusing as well.
"Like looking into a mirror huh? Only, I think I pull it off better. Dontcha think?" Alfred asked. He didn't allow time for an answer, he went behind him and smacked him forward with a bat strike to the back. With a growl of pain, America whipped around and launched himself onto Alfred.
Arthur looked on with amusement, he wasn't worried in the slightest. He had expected America to fight back, he would have been very disappointed if he hadn't. Alfred got several hits in before America learned the value of blocking. He managed a few good punches of his own, but Alfred was faster and at least had a decent weapon. He swung his bat at America's side and when he hit, he didn't just pull it away. He ripped it away, tearing America's shirt and flesh to shreds. Large areas of blood had begun to adorn his shirt all over, like stitched roses blooming on a table cloth. What a beautiful image, Arthur thought happily.
Arthur let America get in one more exhausted hit before he made his way over. He moved in behind him while he was catching his labored breaths and lightly cleared his throat. America flipped around, once again etching confusion on his face.
"Hello poppet! Having fun tonight?" Arthur said cheerfully. America stared at his eyes, glancing up to his eyebrows.
"Engla-" America started to say but was cut short. Arthur continued to grin as he pushed a small dagger further into America's abdomen, just below his left ribcage.
"No, I'm Arthur my dear. So sorry to confuse you." He said sweetly. America grabbed at the dagger, trying to pull it away. Arthur shook his head and gave the knife a twist. The motion brought America to his knees, Arthur followed him to the floor.
It took less time than Arthur had thought it would for America to lose strength and slump against the cabinets. Arthur stared in disbelief as America's eyes grew duller and his head began to roll from side to side in agony. True he wasn't dead yet but Arthur was suddenly worried he would get to that point a lot sooner than expected. He needed him to last just a tiny bit longer. Alfred crouched down, giving America a scowl and a small nudge with his bat to get his attention.
"You call yourself a nation? America even? Can't even handle a little stab to the gut. You're not a hero, your just pathetic." Alfred snarled. Suddenly, America weakly lurched forward pushing Alfred away, he fell to the floor. America reached out and grabbed at Arthur's neck, getting blood all over him. Arthur's eyebrows twitched with irritation but he calmly ripped the knife from America making his hand to fly to his wound. He leaned back against the cabinets breathing hard. Arthur stood up along with Alfred, both staring at America.
"Oh dear, you got blood on my bowtie. Fifth one I've ruined this week!" he pouted, sticking out his bottom lip. Alfred rolled his eyes.
"Whatever, we can't have him try that again. Can we?" Alfred asked eagerly. Arthur gave him an evil grin.
"No, no you're quite right. Be a dear and give him his punishment." He almost purred at Alfred. He smiled and kicked out at America.
He was now flat against the floor, Alfred pushed his arms out from his sides with his foot. He raised his bat high and brought it down on America's right forearm. The scream he issued surprised Arthur, it was loud and bloodcurdling. He smiled, his favorite kind. Alfred did the same to his left arm then reached down and grabbed America by his shirt collar. He hoisted him up so that he was sitting against the counter again, his broken arms limp beside him. Tears streamed down his face, tears of immense pain. The kind he couldn't control even if he had wanted to. Arthur smiled over at Alfred, and then went over to the counter.
When he returned, he crouched down so that he was at America's eye level again and held something up for him to see. It was a cupcake. Red and white cake swirled together, topped with shockingly blue icing with tiny stars sprinkled on. America looked at it wearily.
"Do you not like it? I decorated it especially with you in mind. I know how much you like florescent cakes!" Arthur beamed, quite proud of himself. He pushed the cake towards America, but he kept turning his head. He refused to take a bite, keeping his lips pressed firmly shut. Alfred was the one who frowned.
"Didn't you hear him? He made it just for you, don't be rude!" he spat. Alfred lifted his knee and slammed it into the left side of America's jaw.
Fresh tears sprung to his eyes, Alfred hadn't broken his jaw but a bruise was already forming on his face. Without the use of his hands to rub away the pain, America moved his lower jaw up and down and from side to side. Arthur placed his hand on his cheek and rubbed it for him, although he didn't do it as gently as America probably would have. Arthur didn't intend for the action to help with the pain. He smiled sympathetically nonetheless.
"I'm sorry America, my Alfie can be so quick tempered." He said withdrawing his hand. He broke off a piece of the cake and placed in America's mouth while his jaw was slacked. Arthur pressed his lower jawline up to the upper one. America had no choice but to chew or be choked.
Arthur continued to feed America the cake, small pieces at a time. As he did, America grew paler, his bright blue eyes dimmed more, he began to shake and he slumped lower against the cabinets. Good, Arthur thought, his poison was doing its job, both of the doses. One was laced in the cupcake but he had also covered the dagger he had used in some as well. Arthur began to hum contentedly, he stuck his finger in the icing and swiped off a bit. He pulled America's mouth open and placed the icing on his tongue.
Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Alfred shift slightly. Then he let out a low moan, of pleasure. Arthur chuckled softly.
"Darling, I'm so glad you're enjoying this!" Arthur said excitedly, glancing up at Alfred who had begun to blush much to his displeasure.
"S-sick…bastard. Y-you're a f-freak!" America stuttered. Arthur quickly placed another piece of cake into his mouth to silence him but the damage had been done. Alfred gritted his teeth and clenched his fist.
"Shut the fuck up!" he roared. He stomped down on America's stomach, digging his heel into the dagger wound. A strange mix of blood and cake spilled from his mouth as he coughed. Alfred pushed in one last time and then pulled away, a wild smirk on his face. Arthur, however, was frowning.
"That's not going to make my cupcake taste very good to him at all!" he exclaimed sadly. Though he was smiling, Arthur could tell he was still very mad, he just turned back to the task of feeding America the cake.
"Just finish this up, idiot deserves whatever shitty taste it will have." Alfred spat angrily. Arthur gave America the last little bit of frosting and watched him grimace as he swallowed a large portion of blood with it. Arthur stood up and grabbed Alfred's waist, pulling him in close. Their hips were pressed firmly together and Alfred placed just one hand on Arthur's shoulder. He flashed his blue and pink eye's up to his red ones and smiled.
"Not long now love, his heart should stop in the next few minutes. Five at the most." Arthur purred into his ear as he laid head on Alfred's chest. Arthur heard him sigh and then place his chin on the top of his head. Alfred may play the bad boy, but he really did enjoy moments like this. Arthur was about to bury his face deeper into the rough fabric of Alfred's jacket when America coughed.
"W-why…do this….m-me…?" he trembled, slurring his words. He had fallen completely over to his side, lying on the floor. Blood continue to flow from his abdomen and mouth. Arthur leaned down to whisper in his ear.
"My Alfie was in a bad mood, I wanted to cheer him up. I knew you'd do the trick. Thank you!" he whispered. With that, America stopped breathing and became completely still. His blue eyes still open, staring out across the kitchen. The eyes were Arthur's favorite side effect of the poison, dull blank eyes.
Arthur felt Alfred grab his arm and pull him up close to him again. Arthur cupped his face in his hands and kissed him gently. Alfred pushed back against him, biting his lip softly. They pulled apart after a few moments and Alfred let out a laugh.
"You gonna go make some more cupcakes now?" He asked. Arthur shook his head.
"No, this occasion calls for something more festive. I was going to make on of your favorites." He said softly kissing his neck. He felt Alfred tense up slightly, leaning in for more.
"Which one? I have a lot you know." He asked.
"Apple pies." Arthur replied grinning as Alfred excitedly kissed him again.