United States of Hetalia

Merely a venting piece. I don't own Hetalia.


It was going to be tonight that I confessed to him.

I had mentally prepared myself all day for it.

This was different from the other times.

I had met him online, like many other friends of mine, but this was different. I waited longer and checked if he would leave or not. I knew that he wasn't the kind of person to just stop being my best friend and ditch me if he didn't return the feelings. And, the part that made me the most nervous, I would have to come out of the bisexual closet as well as tell my best friend I had a huge crush on him.

I had asked him to Skype with me, so that we could chat and play around before I brought up the topic of love. Arthur, however, managed to screwed over my plan with just a few simple words before it even finished.

"...It's not that I mind bisexuals and homosexuals and all that, but it's just that everyone I know is one. Do you know what I mean, Alfred?"

I nodded and tried not to start smiling at his accent.

He sighed. "And if any of those friends asked me out or something..." Oh crap. "...I would just have to politely turn them down and tell them I'm not into that sort of thing."

Damn, way to shoot me down right before I say it to you, Artie. Least you put it gently.

I tried not to deflate. Instead I asked, "So if I were bi too, would you hold it against me?"

I could feel a wave of his surprise. "Of course not, Alfred."

I let out a mental sigh of relief at that and smiled.

I was about to ditch the entire plan just then and there, but then he asked me something.

"Have you ever had a crush on someone?"

My heart skipped a beat and there was no stopping the blush that came up with the question. "Huh?"

"I'm just curious. I'm sorry if-"

I hurriedly cut him off. "No. No. It's fine. And yes." In a quieter voice, I said, "still do."

"Really?" he asked in a surprised tone.

"Y-Yeah... With a guy."

He thought for a moment before he asked something else. "What is he like?"

Oh god, Arthur! Let's see, he's adorable, perfect, and you.

"Oh, you don't wanna hear about him-"

It was his turn to cut me off. "Yes, I do. I'm curious. May I ask some questions?"

He went silent, waiting for an answer. For once, I was incredibly grateful that I didn't have a webcam and that he couldn't see me. My face was beet-red. My brain was screaming at me 'DON'T DO IT, YOU DUMBASS!', but the rest of me couldn't say no to him. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead."

"What is he like?"

I couldn't lie.

Heroes don't lie.

So I told him just what I felt about him. "He's smart, creative, awesome

, a great person to be around once he warms up to you, strong-willed, has a good sense of humor, and... c-cute."

I could hear the amusement in his voice. "I think I'd get along well with them. I'd like to meet this person."

I smirked at the screen.

Yeah, you'd get along well, all right...

"What does he look like?"

In my head, I took the features he told me about and let my imagination run with them. Golden blonde hair that would practically glow in the sunlight. Green eyes that would make any forest look grey in comparison. A smile that would make his face light up.

"I dunno, I've never seen him before."

"Did you meet online?"

"Yeah."

"How old is he? Or, if you don't know, is he younger or older than you?"

I had to think for a moment. He always acted older than me. More mature, more old-fashioned. "Older than me, I think."

"You think?" he deadpanned.

"I never asked, okay..." I retorted.

"What ethnicity is he?"

"He's... European." Not lying, but not telling the whole truth. I mean, there are plenty of Europeans out there. There's still a small chance that he hasn't figured it out yet.

"Does he do anything like write or draw?"

"He prefers writing."

Arthur wrote the greatest stories ever. He would always post them and I would read them eagerly. He could make me cry, laugh, love the world, want to help out the characters, you name it.

"Does he not draw at all, or-"

"He doesn't think his drawings are cute, so he prefers to write."

There was a long pause. Like he was thinking of something else to ask me. Finally he asked me. "Is he in our chat group?"

He was figuring it out.

This was so embarrassing!

"Pass."

Again with the surprised tone. "Pass?"

I sighed. "Pass."

"Are you okay?" he asked with concern. "I could stop if you're not up to it."

I dunno why. I just don't know why I kept going. "No, no. I'm fine, Artie. Come at me."

I could practically hear him smirking at me. And I kept imagining that smirk for the rest of the '50 Questions to Guess That Alfred Loves You' game.

Finally, he said the question that cemented the fact that he knows I like him into my brain.

"Is it somebody that I know?"

Shit.

"Pass."

"You do realize that I'm basing my guess off the ones you don't answer, right?"

Yup. He knew. It's over. "...I know. Pass."

We continued this for a what seemed like forever. When Arthur finally had to go to bed, he said 'goodnight, love ya, sweet dreams' as usual. But added something else.

"I'm done. I think I know who it is."

Then he left.

The moment I knew he was offline, off his laptop even, I covered my face with a still-shaky hand. "STUPID!"

I felt like I just ran headfirst into a fucking brick wall of regret and humiliation.

I covered my head with the nearest pillow and shouted "Alfred, you stupid dumbass!"

Of course he didn't like me. Every time I like someone, it's always one-sided. Just like the last time.

He has all the reason to not like me. He's straight and perfect. I'm a just dumbass who thought he would return the feelings.

He was practically teasing me.

I bet he's telling everyone in our chat group right now 'Haha, Alfred just admitted he wants me.'

I groaned.

I didn't want to think about it.

I needed a distraction.

I needed a way to forget all of this for a moment.

Fuck it, I'm going on Tumblr.

I just kept scrolling and scrolling and glancing at all the pictures until something caught my eye.

A post by Arthur.

'You gave me too many hints, lad.

However, I'll play dumb for a while since you don't seem willing to say it... yet.'

A week passed. That night replayed in my head over and over and over again.

I had to tell him. I had to tell him.

I got onto Facebook and waited for him to get on.

[Alfred: Hi, Artie!]

[Arthur: Hello, Alfred.]

[Arthur: How are you?]

[Alfred: I'm okay. You?]

[Arthur: Well enough.]

Here it goes.

[Alfred: Arthur, I gotta tell you something.]

[Arthur: Yes? What is it?]

Somehow I got tongue-tied.

With a freakin' keyboard.

I wanted to tell him. Yet I didn't. I was dying to say it, yet I would regret the results if I did say it.

Do the next best thing: Say it in a language he wouldn't want to translate. French.

So I quickly Google Translated the things I wanted to say.

[Alfred: Je ne peux pas arreter de penser à vous. Et j'ai une platonique beguin pour toi.]

I finally said it! I can forget this whole thing and just stay friends with him. I won't scare him away, he won't be disgusted with me, I finally got the stupid crush thing off of my chest.

[Alfred: There, I said it, I'm not translating.]

[Arthur: What.]

[Arthur: Hold on for a minute, let me go translate.]

I facepalmed. Stupid.

[Arthur: What I got from that was 'I can't stop thinking about you. And I have a platonic beguin for you'?]

Oh for fuck's sake.

[Alfred: It means 'I have a platonic /crush/ on you'. I have a crush on you, Arthur.]

It was out. I liked him. There.

But his next words made me confused as hell.

[Arthur: Is that all you wanted to tell me?]

What.

[Alfred: I have a crush on you. (Platonic as I've never actually seen you).]

[Arthur: And you were afraid to tell me this because...?]

[Arthur: I mean, it's not like it's a CRUSH crush, right?]

[Arthur: I mean, you're using platonic.
Platonic is a non-romantic love for someone.
Which is okay.
I mean,
I think everyone has a platonic crush on someone.]

I thought platonic just meant 'no touchy'. Because, trust me, Artie, it's a legit crush crush.

But my fingers and my brain weren't cooperating, so it came out like this:

[Alfred: *tryingtoexplainfeelscausenow Ijustfeellikeadumbassrightno w*]

[Arthur: Don't.
I mean]

I sighed.

[Alfred: sorry]

[Arthur: Sorry?
Why?]

[Alfred: for confusing/scaring/worrying you over this when it's just me not having a freakin' emotional dictionary]

[Arthur: It doesn't bother me...?]

[Alfred: Like
um
I thought 'platonic crush' was like the same as a regular one but with no touchy
But apparently it's friendship
And I'm a dumbass who should stop talking]

[Arthur: What did you mean it by?
I told you the definition of what I thought you meant.
What are YOU saying to me?]

Arthur, I have a dude-brain that does not know how to write feelings and stuff so...

[Alfred: Um...]

[Arthur: You can tell me?]

This went a hell of a lot smoother in my head. So I tried to put it in the best way possible.

[Alfred: I have an actual crush on you, but with no touchy and stuff because I don't care about that stuff.]

I don't care about that stuff, I've yet to see you, and the universe decided to put a huge fucking puddle called the Atlantic Ocean in the way.

[Arthur: So you're in /love/ with me?]

I stared at the words, trying to process them.

In love? Was I in love?

What does it feel like, anyways? Isn't it that feeling you get when you get excited just to be around a certain person? That mystic feeling Hollywood always shows off like 'Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but you're hot so will you please marry me so we can live happily ever after, and if not I'll just follow you around 'til you do'? Is it that feeling you get when you kiss a date?

I don't know.

But when I hung out with Arthur... I feel accepted. Like I could fuck up and tell him anything (like right now) and it wouldn't make a difference. I feel the most at ease in my entire life whenever we're talking. I feel like the happiest man in the world when I hear him laugh. I always try to make him feel okay. Worry about him even when I don't have to. Make him know he's better than what he thinks he is. Do whatever he asks without question.

Yet I wouldn't do anything physical to him even if I could. A quick kiss, maybe. But that might be his first (and I've yet to have my first), so I'd never do that to him.

Fuck it.

I was head over heels in love with Arthur Kirkland.

[Alfred: I was scared to tell you because right before the questions thing you more or less indirectly turned me down and I was scared that you'd be scared or disgusted or be awkward being friends with me.
And... I dunno how love feels so...]

[Arthur: Alright, let me get this straight. You're in love with me, like IN LOVE, but you don't care about it being sort of a kissing, romantic relationship. (Since it's not possible, anyway.)
Is that right?]

[Alfred: Yes...]

[Arthur: Okay.]

I felt like I was giving him stress. Just because I couldn't keep my big mouth shut.

[Alfred: Sorry.]

[Arthur: Don't apologize.
Alfred, whilst it doesn't bother me, you have to understand that I'm...] Not into guys. [I don't feel the same way, alright?]

[Alfred: I know.]

[Arthur: I like being friends with you. You're a good friend, and I like it that way.]

[Alfred: I know.]

[Arthur: I'm not disgusted with you, nor is it really that awkward for me.
Lest, you bring it up all the time. Then we might have a problem. But what I'm trying to say is if you can just deal with knowing that I know and keep moving forward in life, then well, that's fine with me.
I mean, as long as you're fine with being friends with me and only friends, I've got no problems with continuing to talk to you.]

I had tears in my eyes by then. I finally said it. And he accepted me.

He didn't accept the feelings, of course, but he didn't run away. He didn't try to distance himself the moment I said it. He still wanted to be friends. He didn't put up a wall like she had.

I felt relieved. More than relieved; I was high on the relief that I felt.

It was over. We could move on.

[Alfred: Okay.
I just felt like spitting it out and moving on.
It'll wear off, don't worry.]

'Yeah, it'll wear off.' That's what I told myself. I mean, why wouldn't it? It wore off the last time. And the elementary school crushes before that. Why wouldn't it this time?

[Arthur: Which is entirely understandable.
Sometimes feelings like that are hard to bottle up. Ahahaha.]

[Alfred: Yeah. : ) ]

[Arthur: But like I said, I'm glad you told me, in a sense. I'm glad it made you feel better that you could finally, "spit it out", as you've put it.
And this didn't ruin anything, so don't worry.]

[Alfred: Okay.]

[Arthur: You're...fine with that right? Just being friends?]

Having him here as a friend was better having him gone while knowing it was my fault.

[Alfred: Of course.]

[Arthur: Then everything's okay.]

After that, we continued on as usual.

Talk about random stuff, tease him, comfort each other when life acts like a bitch, try to give a compliment without a string of protests following.

Still, somewhere in the deepest, darkest corner of my mind... the feelings were still there.

Then came the day when I took a vacation in England.

I practically went down on my knees and beggedmy parents to let me try to visit Arthur. They raised their eyebrows at why I was being so dramatic, but they agreed.

So I stood before his house. Mentally bracing myself, I rung the doorbell.

I was shaking. My heart was pounding. Oh god, nervous was an understatement.

What if I did something stupid? What if I'm not what he expected at all? What if-

The door was thrown open and a slender Englishman man was standing in the frame of the door.

"Hello? May I help you?"

I felt a blush creep upon my face before I'd even registered what he said.

That voice. Holy shit, it was his voice. Even without the static or lag, I'd recognize it anywhere.

I took in the appearance of the man I had considered my best friend for quite some time. His hair was a bit messy, but it was still the goldest blonde I'd ever seen. I didn't see a single flaw on his pale skin. His face was... wow. No words to describe it. Angelic, maybe. Sure, the eyebrows were a bit thicker than I expected, but who gives a damn? It was still the same Arthur.

And his eyes. He had emerald green eyes that felt like he was looking right through me. Emerald brighter than any forest.

Emerald eyes that narrowed.

"Hello?"

I let everything loose.

I grabbed him, picked him up, pulled him in the tightest hug possible, and spun him around. "ARRRRRRRRTIIIIIIIIEEE!"

I felt him flail and freak the hell out in my arms. "PUT ME DOWN!" He started pushing against my chest. "PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW, DAMMIT!"

I put him down as gently as possible and gave him a demonstration of 'The Biggest and Brightest Smile Ever'.

He tried to fix his appearance as he glared at me. "Well, t-that was... Well. Who are you and what the hell was that?"

I gave him a pout. "C'mon, Artie, is that any way to greet your friend?"

His eyes widened as he finally recognized me. "A-Alfred?"

"The one and only!"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Then he smirked up at me. "I never thought it would be possible to say this, but you're even more energetic than you are online."

I laughed. "And you're a lot littler than I expected."

His face turned red. "I am not little!" he snapped.

I laughed; his reaction was adorable! "Sure you are! Itty-bitty wittle Artie!"

"I am not!"

"Uh-huh! You are!" I felt him smack me upside the head. "OW! What was that for?!"

"For all the times you called me 'cute', 'little', and 'perfect' since the day we met!" he huffed.

I couldn't help but laugh more.

It was so casual. He invited me in, we joked around in his room, doing anything two close friends would do.

This was even better than I had dreamed.

We enjoyed each others' company, relishing the fact that we weren't an ocean apart.

And we kept laughing like that, all through my visit. It was amazing.

Until, of course, I had to leave.

We stood at the doorway, savoring every last moment.

"Well..." Arthur started. "Goodbye, Alfred... I guess, I'll talk to you when you get back?"

"Yeah..."

I wasn't going to give him a dull goodbye.

I wanted to give him something to remember. But not something to freak him out.

So with a red face and a racing heart, I leaned down and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

"Bye, Artie. Love ya."

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