The moment Arthur walked in, the scent of alcohol invaded his senses.

Furrowing his brows as he stepped into the dark room, he didn't bother slipping his shoes off as he didn't plan to be there for too long. Instead, he flicked the light on and looked around. His boyfriend was nowhere to be seen, the only evidence of his presence coming in the form of several empty beer cans littering the floor. Frowning, the Brit stepped deeper into the living room, counting the amount of discarded cans and becoming a bit worried when the number exceeded all the fingers on his two hands.

"Alfred?" Arthur called out, frowning as he ventured deeper into the darkened apartment, checking each room he passed with no sign of the American.

Git better not have gone out, Arthur thought, he has no right to make me worried after he flirts with his coworkers! Damn it... Arthur found himself grumbling under his breath as he continued down the hall, finally making it to their bedroom.

The door was shut, but the sound of the television reached past the heavy wooden door, and it sounded like Alfred was watching... the news? What the hell? The git never watched serious shows like that! Not to mention that there must have been countless superhero shows playing at this very moment! It was unlike Alfred to shut himself in a dark house with depressing things on the telly, but then again, it was unlike him to drink, too. The American had always hated the feeling of loosing control, and rarely drank at all outside of social events, and even then he was careful to regulate how much he drank. For him to carelessly drink a dozen beers over the course of one night was completely uncharacteristic.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur opened the door and stepped into their bedroom. It, like the rest of the house, was completely dark and Alfred was curled up on their bed, clinging to a pillow and watching the TV blankly, tears in his eyes.

"Alfred?" Arthur asked, his voice sounding much more concerned than he would have liked.

Slowly, those blue eyes fell upon him, and after another moment the American seemed to register who it was. He immediately began struggling to get up, kicking out madly to detangle the blanket wrapped around him.

"'Thur!" Alfred cried, rolling out bed and onto the floor in a tangle of blankets.

Hastily, Alfred picked himself up and stumbled forward, coming at Arthur a bit faster than the Brit expected. Alfred stopped in front of him, falling forward and causing Arthur to step back and hit the wall. Alfred's arm came out, holding himself from smashing into the Brit at the last second. After another few seconds, his other arm came out and touched the wall on the opposite side of Arthur, boxing the Brit in.

"Sorry," the inebriated man said, swaying on his feet and making it abundantly clear that he wasn't intentionally trapping Arthur, but merely trying to keep himself upright.

"How much did you drink?" Arthur immediately demanded, tone harsh.

Although he was worried, Alfred being drunk didn't erase last night's fight, and he was still seething with rage. Just because the damned git had done something stupid didn't mean Arthur was going to forgive him, or even be kind to him! He was going to put the idiot to bed, grab what he had came for, and go back to Kiku's house to stay like he had done the previous night. He hadn't been able to stand being in the same space as Alfred after the git had attempted to lie about his flirting, and how dare he accuse Arthur of overreacting? It had been clear that he was getting much too friendly with the cute receptionist in his office, and Arthur would not tolerate his partner being smitten with someone else, much less lying about it!

"Um... A lot," Alfred answered in a slurred tone.

"Damn right it was a lot! Twelve beers! I can't believe you! This better not have been some stupid attempt to make me pity you, because it won't work!" Arthur huffed, though the words were mostly to reassure himself; simply seeing Alfred this drunk was more than a little upsetting, but to know that he was the cause of such uncharacteristic behavior was even more, and it worried him.

Instead of the argumentative response Arthur had expected, Alfred seemed deeply affected by this, and before the Brit knew it his boyfriend's eyes had filled with tears.

"'M sorry, Artie, I know," he whimpered, leaning closer. "I-I knew I shouldn't 've, but ya were makin' me sad an' so I went an' drank myself stupid. D'you still love me?"

The Brit frowned, his eyes softening for a moment before he huffed in anger. "Damn it! You're not getting my pity! I came here to fetch my toothbrush and a change of clothes, so go back to bed!" He reached out and gently pressed against Alfred's chest, trying to get him to move without actually pushing him.

The American still seemed to be processing the words as he took a step away, allowing Arthur to walk away before he finally understood, and then he was stumbling after the Brit again. With a wail of protest, he slid his arms around Arthur's shoulders from behind, making the man stop in his tracks. Alfred pressed his face to the side of Arthur's neck, sniffling.

"Dun' go, Artieeee, I wan' ya t' staaaaaay! Pleeeeeeease?"

Arthur heaved a sigh. "How many times have I told you not to call me that?!" He growled out, willing himself to remain unaffected by the American's pleas no matter how badly he wanted to help Alfred back to bed, make him some warm tea, and fall asleep beside him.

This only served to make Alfred sniffle more, and Arthur cursed himself for getting chills when the American's lips unintentionally brushed the base of his neck as he nuzzled against it.

"Baby, please, I-I jus' dun' wan' ya to go, you can be mad at me but dun' leave," Alfred begged.

Arthur frowned, frustrated, though it was more with himself. He hated how easily Alfred could affect him! He had to leave soon, or risk giving in. "Or I could be mad and leave!" He retorted harshly. "Get off of me! If you want someone to stay with you so badly, why don't you ring Iko? I'm sure she'd be more than happy to oblige you!"

Despite Alfred's complete lack of understanding of how personal space worked, Arthur had always admired how quick he was to take his hands off someone who didn't want to be touched. The same rang true now, although it did take a moment considering Alfred's delayed reaction time and lack of comprehension. But, even though he couldn't touch Arthur, it didn't mean Alfred was giving up.

"I-I'm sorry, Artie, I didn't mean what I said! I was sad 'cause you were saying that I flirt with her but I dun..." Alfred trailed off for a moment, stumbling. After he regained his footing, he continued, looking down at his boyfriend with unfocused azure eyes. "I love you, baby, no one else in the whole world, n-never ever ever ever replace you, y'know that. I'd marry ya, Artie, I dun' wan' no one else, nooooo one."

"I'm not so sure of that," Arthur said, brushing past him and entering the bathroom. He snatched his toothbrush off the sink, then turned back to see his boyfriend standing in the doorway, tears in his eyes once again. The sight made his heart ache, and Arthur felt his resolve crumbling.

"I-I know you dun' want me to hug ya but I gotta, I just gotta, if ya leave I'll drink more an' you'll get more sad an' I'll get more sad an' it'll all be sad!" Alfred said as he came closer with his arms open wide, obviously about to pull Arthur into his arms when, with a yelp, he lost his footing and hit the floor with a prominent 'thump!'

"Bloody—Are you okay?!" Arthur asked, eyes widening in surprise as he bent over to check on the American.

The American looked up, seeming to brighten now that he'd seen Arthur concerned for him. "Artie, c'mon, let's sleep, y-you can yell at me tomorrow!" He slurred, using the sink to heave himself back to his feet.

"No! I already told you, call Iko if you want to—"

"Arthur!" Alfred wailed. "I-I said, I said I dun' want her, I-I meant it! 'S you, 's always gonna be you!"

"Yes, and how am I supposed to believe that when you buy her sweets for Valentine's Day and stand at her desk for twenty minutes, just 'chatting'?! I don't see you doing that for any of your other coworkers!" Arthur hollered, though in his heart he knew that his feelings came more from jealousy than any concerns of Alfred leaving or cheating on him. They had been together for years now, and Alfred had never once been anything but loyal to Arthur.

In response to this, Alfred simply began to sniffle rapidly, and in another moment tears were falling rapidly down his cheeks and he was shuffling toward Arthur again, stopping in front of him.

"Baby, baby, pleeeeaaaaseeeee," Alfred whimpered in between sobs. "Dun' break up with me, p-please, Artie!"

The Brit started, green eyes widening. "Break up with you?" He echoed, surprise etched into his features.

Alfred sniffled, stepping closer until he was once again pressing Arthur to the wall, but with the lights on Arthur could see his boyfriend's face clearly. His eyes tired, desperate, tears streaking down his face, how sincerely sad and worried he was... It was all too much, it made his heart break to see Alfred so upset.

"Dun' go," Alfred whimpered, much quieter now. "I-It's so hard when ya leave me, I have t' drink jus' t' try an' feel better an' it doesn't work, nothin' works 'cept you bein' here with me! I miss ya, I miss ya too much when yer gone and I know I'm stupid but I'm useless without ya," the younger rambled, gently combing his shaky fingers through Arthur's pale blond hair.

"You're not—You're not useless or stupid, Alfred." Arthur protested.

"When yer not here I am," the American sniveled in return, bottom lip wobbling. "I dun' wanna fuck up anymore. Jus' wanna do what ya want me to, dun' care what it is! Gimme another chance? Dun' break up with me, jus' lemme show ya what ya mean to me!"

With these words, Arthur's heart broke open like a damn and he sighed. "I wasn't going to break up with you in the first place, darling, and I won't go anywhere. Now, let's get you back to bed. You're completely drunk and I'm worried if you stand for much longer you'll hurt yourself." He ran a hand across Alfred's cheeks, wiping the tears away with a frown. To see his lover so upset killed him, and all he wanted to do was fix it.

Alfred's face lit up and he beamed despite his tears, crashing his lips to Arthur's with little thought. Despite the awful taste, Arthur gently kissed him back, then pushed the American back a bit.

"Alright, alright. No more. You're still drunk." Arthur said, beginning to walk out of the bathroom. "Have you eaten?"

"Um... No," Alfred answered, immediately snaking both his arms around one of Arthur's, happily holding on.

Arthur sighed. "Go lay down, I'll be back in a moment." He instructed.

Smiling as if he'd just won the lottery, Alfred obliged, but not before kissing Arthur's forehead affectionately. Flushing red, the Brit watched him stagger back to bed and flop down upon their shared mattress before leaving the room. When he returned, he carried a small plate of crackers, which he made Alfred down along with a glass of water.

"Alright, now, to bed with you!" Arthur scolded gently.

Alfred pouted. "But I don't—"

"Bed. I'm not waiting for your dunk arse to stop feeling tired, you're going—Ah! Alfred!" Arthur yelped as Alfred's arms caught him around the waist, pulling him to lay down.

"Let's spoon," Alfred crooned, voice still terribly slurred.

Arthur huffed, but merely moved closer and allowed Alfred to hold him.

"Artie?" Alfred whispered.

"Yes?"

"Love you," the younger mumbled into his ear.

"I love you too, git, now go to sleep." Arthur scolded, affection heavy in his tone despite his words.

Alfred, happy with this answer, sighed contentedly. There was silence for a moment, in which Arthur assumed his boyfriend had fallen asleep, and he closed his eyes.

Then, "Artie?"

"Yes?" Arthur asked again, frowning.

"Are you gonna yell at me tomorrow?"

"Definitely."

Alfred laughed quietly before falling asleep.

A/N: Alfred has drank about 12 cans of beer over the course of 7 hours and he is roughly 6'4 and 200lbs. According to bloodalcoholcalculator . org (remove spaces), his BAC is .125. Sites searched for using the words 'Effects at Specific BAC' helped me figure out how much he would be affected. I hope everything is accurate and that you enjoy!

I like to think that Alfred would be a really emotional drunk, and when he drinks while he's sad it's much worse.

As usual, reviews are greatly appreciated and encourage me to write more! This story is also posted to my ao3, molossiamerica.