[Fanfic] Happy New Year
Apr. 20th, 2010 06:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blood_wingedTitle: Happy New Year
Genre: Romance
Pairing: USxUK
Rating/Warnings: U. Fluff?
Summary: 760 word short piece of fluff written on a whim at six in the morning. Alfred spends New Years Eve with Arthur.
*****
Spending the evening with a steadily more and more inebriated Englishman was not Alfred’s idea of a good time, but when Arthur had (half-jokingly) suggested that he spend New Years in London, he had automatically agreed. Now, it was barely eleven and the green-eyed blonde was already leaning dangerously to one side, a bottle of gin held between his knees and a glass of whiskey in his hand.
Arthur invented a whole new vein of insults for Alfred when he was drunk. The American had mistaken them for German at first, before he had curiously repeated a selection of them to Ludwig within earshot of Iceland and had been told that Arthur was in fact swearing at him in Old English. He couldn’t help but find that funny.
He sipped his drink. Despite Arthur’s current mood and the fact that he had by now had so much alcohol that he was struggling to focus his eyes on his companion between pointing at a spot somewhere to his right and muttering expletives under his breath, it was... nice. It was nice to spend some time with him where they didn’t have to deal with anything official. Alfred looked down at his lap and smiled, then glanced back up as a Arthur’s glass hit the carpet with a muffled thud. The man was out for the count, head lolled back and lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed. It was hardly surprising – he’d been drinking since seven.
“I guess we won’t be ringing in the New Year together, eh, old man?” he murmured as he got to his feet, adjusted Texas and slipped his arms under the unconscious Englishman’s body, lifting him easily from the chair. Arthur’s head fell to his chest as he hefted him up, and for a moment Alfred simply stood there, cradling the shorter nation’s slim form to him, noting how light Arthur was, how easily he could wrap his fingers around the man’s arm, how... soft he felt.
It was half past eleven. Alfred let out a quiet sigh and carefully carried Arthur upstairs, wrangling the bedroom door open with his elbow and backing into the room, awkwardly turning the dimmer switch with his nose and keeping the light low. He lay Arthur down, pulling off his socks and trousers, and drew the covers up, watching as the blonde made a quiet sound, and wrapped one arm around his pillow and hugged it. Something tugged at Alfred’s heart and he sat, perching beside Arthur. Hesitantly, he reached out, and touched the man’s hair, stroking his fingers over it, tracing the shell of his ear with a fingertip and drawing away when the action produced a low grumble that didn’t quite manage to sound like a complaint.
“You’ve been doing this every year, on your own, haven’t you..?” Alfred said quietly. “Bet you’ve never even had a New Years kiss.” He glanced at his watch, following the second hand around the dial. It was only seven in the evening back home.
Five...
He’d been invited to a party tonight, but he’d said no. He’d said no then he’d hopped on a plane and flown over to England, to be met with a distant handshake.
Four...
Arthur had never asked him to come over for New Years before. Alfred had hoped, secretly, that he had something planned. He had quickly come to the conclusion that this was not the case, and if he wanted anything to happen he was going to have to work it out for himself.
Three...
It hadn’t been that bad. They’d had take-out because Arthur had insisted, and he’d even bought a bottle of Alfred’s favourite bourbon. Alfred frowned, wondering why, and he looked at the lightly flushed face, the turned up nose. He brushed his thumb over one thick, yet meticulously trimmed eyebrow and smiled as it twitched down into a faint scowl. He had asked why Arthur had decided to invite him, and he hadn’t been given an answer. Alfred touched Arthur’s palm, and froze as the man’s fingers closed around his.
Two...
Maybe... Maybe Arthur was just lonely.
One...
Fireworks were flashing, crackling and crashing through the night air, but although Alfred could hear the noise, he could still feel the silence below it. He watched Arthur’s chest rise and fall, and smiled fondly as he leaned down, and pressed a kiss gently to the smaller male’s cheek.
“Happy New Year, Arthur,” he whispered warmly, missing the tiny upturned tilt of Arthur’s lips as he watched the fireworks through a crack in the curtains.
Genre: Romance
Pairing: USxUK
Rating/Warnings: U. Fluff?
Summary: 760 word short piece of fluff written on a whim at six in the morning. Alfred spends New Years Eve with Arthur.
*****
Spending the evening with a steadily more and more inebriated Englishman was not Alfred’s idea of a good time, but when Arthur had (half-jokingly) suggested that he spend New Years in London, he had automatically agreed. Now, it was barely eleven and the green-eyed blonde was already leaning dangerously to one side, a bottle of gin held between his knees and a glass of whiskey in his hand.
Arthur invented a whole new vein of insults for Alfred when he was drunk. The American had mistaken them for German at first, before he had curiously repeated a selection of them to Ludwig within earshot of Iceland and had been told that Arthur was in fact swearing at him in Old English. He couldn’t help but find that funny.
He sipped his drink. Despite Arthur’s current mood and the fact that he had by now had so much alcohol that he was struggling to focus his eyes on his companion between pointing at a spot somewhere to his right and muttering expletives under his breath, it was... nice. It was nice to spend some time with him where they didn’t have to deal with anything official. Alfred looked down at his lap and smiled, then glanced back up as a Arthur’s glass hit the carpet with a muffled thud. The man was out for the count, head lolled back and lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed. It was hardly surprising – he’d been drinking since seven.
“I guess we won’t be ringing in the New Year together, eh, old man?” he murmured as he got to his feet, adjusted Texas and slipped his arms under the unconscious Englishman’s body, lifting him easily from the chair. Arthur’s head fell to his chest as he hefted him up, and for a moment Alfred simply stood there, cradling the shorter nation’s slim form to him, noting how light Arthur was, how easily he could wrap his fingers around the man’s arm, how... soft he felt.
It was half past eleven. Alfred let out a quiet sigh and carefully carried Arthur upstairs, wrangling the bedroom door open with his elbow and backing into the room, awkwardly turning the dimmer switch with his nose and keeping the light low. He lay Arthur down, pulling off his socks and trousers, and drew the covers up, watching as the blonde made a quiet sound, and wrapped one arm around his pillow and hugged it. Something tugged at Alfred’s heart and he sat, perching beside Arthur. Hesitantly, he reached out, and touched the man’s hair, stroking his fingers over it, tracing the shell of his ear with a fingertip and drawing away when the action produced a low grumble that didn’t quite manage to sound like a complaint.
“You’ve been doing this every year, on your own, haven’t you..?” Alfred said quietly. “Bet you’ve never even had a New Years kiss.” He glanced at his watch, following the second hand around the dial. It was only seven in the evening back home.
Five...
He’d been invited to a party tonight, but he’d said no. He’d said no then he’d hopped on a plane and flown over to England, to be met with a distant handshake.
Four...
Arthur had never asked him to come over for New Years before. Alfred had hoped, secretly, that he had something planned. He had quickly come to the conclusion that this was not the case, and if he wanted anything to happen he was going to have to work it out for himself.
Three...
It hadn’t been that bad. They’d had take-out because Arthur had insisted, and he’d even bought a bottle of Alfred’s favourite bourbon. Alfred frowned, wondering why, and he looked at the lightly flushed face, the turned up nose. He brushed his thumb over one thick, yet meticulously trimmed eyebrow and smiled as it twitched down into a faint scowl. He had asked why Arthur had decided to invite him, and he hadn’t been given an answer. Alfred touched Arthur’s palm, and froze as the man’s fingers closed around his.
Two...
Maybe... Maybe Arthur was just lonely.
One...
Fireworks were flashing, crackling and crashing through the night air, but although Alfred could hear the noise, he could still feel the silence below it. He watched Arthur’s chest rise and fall, and smiled fondly as he leaned down, and pressed a kiss gently to the smaller male’s cheek.
“Happy New Year, Arthur,” he whispered warmly, missing the tiny upturned tilt of Arthur’s lips as he watched the fireworks through a crack in the curtains.
