The sound of a pen scratching against paper echoed through the otherwise soundless room, with a few sounds of screeching tires and shouted profanities filtering in through the open window. The sun shone brightly, its blinding rays twinkling through the glass and inducing a minor headache for the main working his life away at his shakey desk. He'd tried slipping a piece of paper beneath the short leg, but that hadn't been effective at all. His shoulders were stiff and his piercing emerald eyes glared down at the innocent stacks of papers as he signed his name for what seemed like the millionth time, cursing in aggravation when the ink disippated into scratches. Growing, he scribbled senselessly on a random piece of notebook paper in an attempt to generate a flow of ink into the tip. When he realised that it was useless, and his pen was well and truly destroyed, he tossed it behind him, and grabbed another from his pot of pens, only to inadvertently whack a stack of books and papers when he drew his arm back.

Flushing in a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance, the man growled again and shoved his chair back to collapse to his knees and forcefully grab the papers he'd dropped. He grasped them all tightly against his chest, and went to grab another book, only for a small slip of folded up paper to slip out. Blinking in confusion before frowning, the blond carefully placed the papers he had rescued back on his wonky desk, and then sank to his knees to pick up the stray piece of scrap paper. Curiosity getting the better of him, he glanced around (reasurring himself that he was truly alone), before his eyes dropped back to the messy paper. He unfolded it carefully, and froze when he saw it opened.

I love Alfred F. Jones.
A. K. loves A. F. J.
A. F. J. and A. K. forever.
Aishiteru/suki dayo. Te quiero. Ti amo. Je t'aime. Ngo oi ney. Wo wai ni. Ta gra agam ort. S'agapo. Ich liebe dich. Szeretleck te'ged. Saya cinta padamu. Es tevi milu. Saya cinta awak. Kocham cię. Ya lyublyu tebya. Gwa ai lee...

Replicas of those initials were scribbled all over the paper, along with nonsensical love confessions and crudely drawn hearts, all accompanied by what could be classified as "emo" lyrics and poems. There were Pon and Zi sketched in the corner, signed with the same signature on all of the forms Arthur had just spent hours going through.

He felt heat creep up his neck and the blood rush to his head. He fell against his desk, eyes wide in shock and humiliation, as he gaped down at the evil piece of paper he grasped within his fingertips. "Fucking hell," he breathed weakly, feeling incredibly embarrassed. He glanced around the room again, panicked, and relaxed ever so slightly when he realised no one could see the lovesick paper. "I wrote this years ago," he murmured to himself, and raised a hand to cover his lips.

"It's a pity it's unrequited, huh?"

His own drunken words echoed through his mind, resounding strongly and sending emotional vibrations through him. He shuddered as he felt his heart strings tug, remembering the electrifying, sparking, but soft, warm and gentle feelings when a certain blue-eyed blond man had hovered over him, fingers intertwined and eyes meeting as their lips became closer and closer...

You obviously didn't know anything, did you...? He shut his eyes, feeling the heat from both his blood rush and the sun get to him. Arthur, you're at work, he snapped at himself, Don't think about that sort of thing! he berated, but found he was unable to stop thinking about those impossibly blue eyes and blinding smile. "He's like the sun," he breathed softly.

"What about the sun?" a jubilant voice enquired happily, effectively slicing through the comfortable and content mood with a rusty dagger. The speaker was greeted with a fist to the face, but he caught it just in time, grinning and laughing down at the shorter man. "Whoa! Chill out, Arthur!"

"How can I bloody 'chill out'," he muttered, scowling moodily, "When it's so blooming hot?" He tugged his clenched fist back out of the American's hand, resisting the urge to cradle it to his chest. That idiot was way too strong...

"Hot?" Alfred repeated incredulously, raising his eyebrows. "Dude, it's supposed to be, what, like, twenty two degrees?" he muttered, frowning in thought. "I still don't get that... What's it in Farenheit?"

"About seventy two degrees," the Brit murmured without hesitation, flopping back into his chair and hitting his sweaty forehead against the fairly cool wood. "I think I'm dying." He lifted his head enough to peer through his fringe.

"You've had worse," the younger man replied airily, falling back into a chair behind him and extracting a chocolate bar from his trouser pocket. Unwrapping his, he shoved it towards the weary Englishman, who pulled a sour face. "Sugar," Alfred explained. "It'll keep you goin' for a while."

"Until I crash," Arthur clipped dubiously, looking disgusted as he pushed the offered half-melted chocolate bar away. "I'd feel even worse." He sighed a long-suffering sigh and propped himself up on his elbows, staring up at the other man lethargically. "Why the bloody fucking hell do you have your jacket? I'm burning," he muttered.

The American blinked in bewilderment, and then followed the green-eyed man's gaze to rest on his trusty bomber jacket. He laughed merrily, scratching the back of his head sheepishly before taking a big bite of his revolting sweet treat. Arthur's eyes strayed down to the bigger man's lips, taking note of the minimal amount of chocolate staining them. He licked his own. "I'm used to way hotter climates than this. Moving here for me was like movin' to, I dunno, the South Pole, or something," he babbled, chocolate-coated lips moving hastily.

"Mmm," Arthur agreed, not having taken in anything the younger man had said. Instead, he leaned forwards slightly, grabbing Alfred's shockingly bright red tie, and yanked the yank forward to press a kiss on his lips. He felt the American smile into the kiss, enthusing him to press on. He let his tongue slip out of his own lips and carefully lick Alfred's, cleaning them of all remnants of chocolate. After that, he pulled back and licked his own lips again, smirking at the befuddled American.

"What...?" Alfred began, blinking. He was as oblivious as ever, Arthur noted.

"You had chocolate on your lips," Arthur replied offhandedly, waving a hand dismissively and averting his gaze to hide his impish smirk. "It was unbecoming of a--"

Now it was his turn to be surprised, Alfred had apparently decided, when he felt arms wrap themselves around his waist and pull him onto the desk (effectively whacking the stack of papers over again, he noted in irritation), and warm lips shoved against his own. He huffed childishly into the kiss, irked at the surprise, but soon complied, weaving his arms around the American's shoulders and slinking them smoothly into his golden-blond hair. He relaxed against the man, efficaciously pushing their bodies flush against one another. He felt the warm hands behind his back tighten their grasp as the American's tongue prodded softly against his lips, gently prompting him to open them. He gladly obliged, and Alfred wasted no time in slipping his tongue in, roaming around the Brit's mouth shamelessly, and Arthur briefly fought back with his own oral organ, until they recalled their requirement for oxygen.

They pulled away, a thin trail of saliva connecting their shimmering lips, and they gasped for breath after the passionate kiss. Azure clashed with emerald, and both of them smiled. "Ya know, I love your smile," the beaming American suddenly declared breathlessly, cheeks flushed a light pink and a certain light dazzling in his sky-blue eyes.

Arthur blinked in surprise before flushing deeply. "D-don't be stupid," he muttered, weakly slapping Alfred's hand away. Obviously, the American easily overpowered him. His tanned hand grabbed the Brit's pale one, and another tan hand raised to cup Arthur's chin.

"I may be stupid sometimes," he said, voice soft and gentle and so wonderful and sweet and earnest that Arthur felt his heart melt and his lips twitch. Alfred's lips quirked in response. "But I ain't stupid when it comes to you~" He placed a chaste, innocent kiss to the older man's nose sweetly.

The Brit's blush deepened, but he managed to smirk through his embarrassment. "Actually, I'd say you're the most stupid when it comes to us. You fuck up endlessly, you don't mind having you way with me when one of us is drunk off our arse, you forget important dates..."

"Ah!" Alfred suddenly shouted, making the smaller man jump. It was now the American's turn to smirk. "Speaking of important dates..." he murmured, and let go of Arthur's chin to reach into his pocket and slip out two tickets. With a Cheshire cat grin, he flashed the bright things in front of Arthur's face.

Blinking again, the Brit slowly reached for the pieces of paper, wondering what the bloody fuck the "important date" was. He swallowed and tried to maintain an impassive exterior, but was inwardly panicking. Fuck! Have I forgotton an important date for once? I don't think so... I can't remember any holidays or historical dates for the 23rd of April... It was Shakespeare's bithday, as well as JMW Turner's, but... Eh? Theater tickets...? "Theater tickets?" he breathed, eyes widening as his eyes skimmed over the neatly typed words.

"You bet'cha! We're goin' ta see A Midsummer Night's Dream." He beamed proudly, although there was a lingering hint of self-doubt in his eyes that Arthur wanted to vanquish. He was just too accustomed to the brat's usual insatiable ego. So, he wound an arm back around the American's neck and gently pulled him down to give him a kiss.

"Thank you," he murmured softly, feeling a bit shy. "That... I didn't expect anything like that," he admitted shyly, wondering why he suddenly felt like a timid lovesick school girl. Like that Hinata girl in one of Kiku's manga... What is the occasion?! He'll be so angry with me if he finds out I don't know...

Alfred's eyes widened for a moment, before his features softened and he smiled happily. "Well, expect it from now on!" he declared, and Arthur looked up, confusion plasted clearly across his features when he noted the American's unusual gentle but serious tone.

"Al...?" he began, trailing off when Alfred flushed and averted his gaze.

"Look," he said, sighing and running a hand through his hair, before turning and pinning Arthur with his deep blue gaze. He leaned forwards and placed his hands over Arthur's on the desk. "I..." he began, leaning forward to graze his lips carefully over the Brit's, who chuckled breathlessly at the small tickle it inducted. Alfred grinned. "I just wanna... make it special for you," he admitted, cheeks pinking slightly.

Arthur felt his own face heat up. For once, he didn't look away because of embarrassment, but because of the guilt that had suddenly overwhelmed him. Alfred was being so sweet, and he had no idea what this was all about! What was so special about the twenty-bloody-third of April? Shakespeare's birthday... Is that why we're going to see one of his plays? But Al's never expressed an intense interest in Shakespeare... So, what is it...? "Oh," he murmured, not sure what else he could say, especially since he had no clue as to what this was all about...

The taller blond paused, staring down at the Englishman for a long moment, scrutinising him relentlessly, azure eyes boring down into his. He shifted uncomfortably, but tried not to fidget under the penetrating stare Alfred had suddenly bestowed upon him. Of all the times to learn how to read the atmosphere, please not now! Arthur begged inwardly, but remained a calm face on the outside, slowly raising an inquisitive brow in hopes of prompting the eccentric American to stop his bloody staring.

Suddenly, the calculating look melted into a soft and vaguely amused goofy smile. "Cool," he said, leaning down to kiss the Brit's nose again. Arthur flushed. "When do you get off work?" he asked.

Arthur checked his watch. "It's two right now. I still have four and a half more hours," he replied, trying not to sob over his long working hours. Why did I not just get a job in Marks and Sparks? It'd be a lot easier than being a bloody businessman, he thought ruefully.

"You had lunch yet?" Alfred's voice slipped through his cynical thoughts, effectively banishing the pessimism with his cheerful smile. Arthur felt his own lips twitch in spite of himself.

"No," he answered. "I've been trying to finish my paperwork," he explained, gesturing vaguely over to the piles of unorganised paper decorating his wonky desk either side of him.

"Hmm," Alfred hummed, sneaking his other arm back around Arthur's waist, his fingertips dancing up and down the older man's spine, sending electrifying sparks through his body. The Englishman shivered and arched against the bigger man, trying to scowl.

"Don't tickle me," he berated in irritation. "You know I don't like it."

"Ah," replied Alfred, grinning smugly as he repeated his evil gesture and chuckling when he heard the giggles Arthur stifled. "But I like it. You make the cutest faces, and your laugh is adorable." He beamed when the older man's face reddened. He stopped his evil onslaught in favour of hugging his Brit. "You should seriously do it more often."

He felt arms shyly sneak their way around his own waist and clutch his jacket. Arthur buried his face in the idiot's shoulder, so his words were muffled when he said, "Only when you're with me."

Alfred kissed him again.

O-o-O-o-O

"How did you convince me to go out for a two hour lunch break again?" Arthur enquired, drawling to display his aggravation. Honestly, what had been going through his head at the time? His thoughts ceased when lips brushed against his, and he looked up to meet blue eyes, crinkled at the edges, smiling down at him.

"'Cause ya loooove me," his boyfriend replied, bearing his teeth in a goofy grin as he grabbed the Brit's hand. Arthur blushed darkly, averting his gaze to hide his smile. I had to fall in love with the most stupid person in the world. And an American to boot, he thought fondly, trying desperately to banish the deliriously happy smile on his face.

"You wish," he snapped in response, but couldn't seep any venom into his tone. He felt his blush deepen when he heard a chuckle from beside him, but relaxed when he felt the American squeeze his hand. Soon after, however, he heard his boyfriend let out a surprised shout of triumph, and yelped when he felt himself being dragged. "Wh-what are you--?" he began, only to let out a small, "Oof," when he collidied with the man's back. He stepped back, pouting irritably. "Why did you stop so suddenly, and what are you--?"

"Can I get two ninety-nine (1) ice-creams, please?" Alfred suddenly enquired in a very teenager-like bubbly tone. Arthur paused, gaping like a fish, before huffing.

"You are such a child," he finally settled on saying.

The American sent him an insolent grin, leaning down to peck his cheek. He cursed himself for blushing so easily. "But you love me for that too," he said. Arthur just grumbled and tried not to drool when he was handed a perfect ninety-nine ice-cream, complete with strawberry sauce and a chocolate flake. He licked his lips and moved to grab his wallet, but was surprised when Alfred just snatched his hand back and handed the person the money before taking his ice-cream. Arthur, still bemused, forgot to thank them, but Alfred said it loudly enough to both of them. After they had turned and began walking again, Alfred glanced over to the Brit with a raised eyebrow. "I know I'm hot, but you've been staring at me even longer than usual." He licked his ice-cream before turning back to the flushed man beside him. "What gives?"

"You... paid for the ice-creams," Arthur murmured, still in shock.

Alfred looked at him strangely for a moment, an something that look abnormally like guilt flashed through his sky-blue eyes, before he beamed down at the bewildered Englishman. Instead of offering an explanation, he leaned down to whisper hotly into the smaller man's ear, "Your ice-cream's melting."

Arthur felt his face heat up and a shiver run down his spine. He elbowed his American, huffing in mock irritation, before licking his ice-cream distractedly. Alfred is acting so weird, he thought, munching on his flake. I wonder what's bothering him... He was brought back to reality when the American squeezed his hand again. He glanced up at Alfred curiously, only to see a flush decorating the younger man's cheeks. He blinked, closing his mouth and just wondering what was going through the taller man's mind. "Alfred...?"

"I wanna go on the London Eye," Alfred suddenly decided, not meeting Arthur's bewildered gaze. "Let's go."

"E-eh?" the Brit squeaked, clutching onto Alfred's hand and his ice-cream as he was dragged, yet again, over to the large wheel in his capital. "But why--?" he began, glancing up at his boyfriend again as they joined the waiting line.

"Can't I just do somethin' nice for the person I love once in a while?" the American replied, looking a bit defensive and very embarrassed. A couple sidled into the line behind them, and so any escape routes were blocked.

Arthur blinked rapidly. "Um," he replied eloquently. "Have you run up debts or something?" he blurted out.

Alfred turned to him hastily, eyes widening. "What?" he squawked indignantly, frowning as if insulted. "You think it takes somethin' like that to make me wanna do this kinda thing for you?"

The Englishman almost snapped back a retort, but soon thought better of it. They got into arguments on a daily basis, but seeing as Alfred had been suspiciously sweet today... "No," he replied calmly, voice a lot softer than before. "I'm sorry," he apologised sincerely, trying to meet the taller man's gaze. "I was just... surprised," he admitted.

The younger man looked down at him again, finally meeting his eyes, and then he sighed, deflating. "Yeah, I know. You have a right to be," he relented, squeezing the Brit's hand reassurringly. "I jus'..." He seemed lost for words, and by the way his brow was creasing and his lips were contorting into a thin line, he looked frustrated with himself.

Arthur smiled softly and leaned forward to lick what was left of the taller man's ice-cream. Grinning, he leaned back up, licking his lips and whispering, "Your ice-cream's melting."

O-o-O-o-O

"I've only been on here once before," Arthur breathed, one hand clutching at the pole and one hand plastered on the glass. His emerald eyes were wild and shimmering in awe. "It's amazing, isn't it?" he whispered, eyes skimming across the landscape, taking in all of the tall towers, the glistening Thames, the beautifully structured bridges, and the blue sky that looked so much like Alfred's eyes. He wasn't even deterred when arms wove around his waist, and just relaxed against his lover's warm body.

"Mmm," Alfred hummed by his ear, nipping at his neck. "Almost as amazing as you," he complimented, smirking at the blush that travelled up the smaller man's neck and filled his face.

"That's so cheesy," the Brit murmured, but he was smiling despite himself, and he turned to press a sweet kiss on Alfred's cheek. Feeling mischievous, the American turned his face just in time, and met Arthur's lips with his own. The Brit moaned softly, lifting his head further to gain further access, parting his lips and slipping his tongue out to meet the American's. He let out a warm puff of air as their tongues danced around each other, finally giving in and letting Alfred slip his tongue into his mouth. He lightly scraped his teeth along the younger man's tongue as it entered, and then slipped his tongue along Alfred's as they found each other once more.

When the need for oxygen became apparent, they reluctantly pulled apart, gasping for breath and leaning against one another for support as they gasped for breath. Azure clashed with green, and Alfred grinned. "But you love it."

Arthur rolled his eyes and smacked his shoulder. "You just ruined the bloody moment, you prat," he said, but he was laughing. Alfred smiled.

O-o-O-o-O

The theater was packed, as usual. Incessant chatter and giggles from families and children echoed throughout the large hall, resounding off the dark walls, stone pillars and beautifully painted ceiling. The curtains were drawn on the stage, shielding the actors before the play began.

When they entered, Arthur had just been staring at the paintings, transfixed and amazed, and was knocked out of his stupour when Alfred nudged him. He moved to enter the doors where everyone was heading, but was stopped when his hand was grabbed. He turned back to his boyfriend, confused. "Aren't we going in?" he asked, trying to disguise his disappointment.

Alfred chuckled at Arthur's unintended whining tone, and shook his head. "Not that way," he replied with a mysterious smile, lacing his fingers through the older man's paler ones, and gently pulling him through the crowds to ascend another set of stairs. "We're gonna be above it all."

The Brit's eyes widened. "Wh-what...?" he gasped, hesitating. "B-but we can't afford tha--"

"We can," Alfred replied, blushing as he grinned proudly. "I got a promotion."

Arthur's eyes widened and he stopped completely. "What? When? Why didn't you tell me? I could have--!" He was silenced as lips pressed softly against his.

"Artie," the taller man whispered gently, "You talk way too much." He wrapped an arm around the confused Brit's shoulders and led him up the rest of the stairs. "Today's special, and it's for you, so it's fine. Can't you just accept it?"

Arthur flushed and ducked his head guiltily, feeling that same guilt from earlier eat away at him. But... I don't know why it's special... he thought nervously. Not wanting to upset Alfred, however, he nodded shyly. "Y-yeah," he agreed softly. "Okay."

O-o-O-o-O

The play was as magnificent as the building it was performed in. The actors were astonishing and believable, it wasn't exaggerated nor toned down, but had so much emotion and conviction in their lines that Arthur almost believed to be true. He didn't even realise tears had come to his eyes until he heard a chuckle beside him, and warm fingers brushing his cheeks. He turned to Alfred in surprise, blinking up at him, still befuddled. Why is he being so... nice...? he thought, biting his inner lip when he received a comforting smile from his lover. He forced himself to turn back and watch the play, but he couldn't stop his mind from reeling. Is he... Has something bad happened? he wondered, swallowing nervously and wiping his sweaty hands on his trousers. Is he being nice to me because he wants to break up with me? For a moment, he panicked that he had found Alfred out, and that the other man was really going to leave him, but...

"Today's special, and it's for you..."

Arthur licked his lips and glanced at his lover, eyes widening when he met blue eyes. He flushed and looked away. Had the American been watching him the entire time? That means he would have noticed Arthur was panicking, and maybe he figured out that he didn't know what today was for, and so--!

"Alfred," Arthur whispered weakly, glancing nervously at the American, who stared at him in concern.

"Yeah?"

"Can... Can we go? I... need to talk to you," he murmured shyly, biting his lip and clutching Alfred's hand tighter.

The younger man's frown deepened. "What's up, Arthur?" he murmured, turning to the smaller man fully. "You've been actin' pretty weird all day," he said. "In fact, you've been actin' the same way you were before you confessed to me." He tilted his head, grabbing the Brit's other free hand, and Arthur could feel the man's blue eyes bore into his own. He looked down nervously, licking his lips.

"N-nothing..." he tried, but sighed in defeat. Even Alfred wouldn't buy that. "I-it's just..." He looked up to meet his boyfriend's gaze, hoping his sincere apology shone through. "I... I don't know why this date is so important," he admitted softly, averting his gaze again. "I'm really sorry..." He shut his eyes tightly, feeling his speedy heartbeat echo in his ears, and his ragged breathing because he was just so--

What the bloody hell...? Was Alfred laughing? Arthur's eyes widened as he stared up at the American, who looked both exceedingly amused and slightly melancholic.

"Wh-what...?" he began, only to be silenced by a long, drawn out kiss from his lover. When they pulled away, they were panting for breath, and Arthur found himself perched in Alfred's lap, their foreheads pressed together and lips meeting numerous times again and again.

"You forgot?" Alfred gasped in between kisses, smile widening as he wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist and pulling him even closer.

"I'm sorry," Arthur apologised again, scowling slightly. "I didn't mean to...!"

"Arthur. Artie. Art," the American murmured through chuckles, nuzzling into the Brit's neck. "You forgot your own bloody birthday," he said in an attempt to immitate an English accent.

Arthur froze, eyes widening in absolute shock. He stared down at the American in a mixture of emotions: irritation; surprise; embarrassment... "S-so... you... did all of this for me...?" he whispered in awe. "Just for me?"

Alfred smiled a lopsided smile. "'Course, Art," he replied gently. "You're important to me... Hey, don't cry again!"

"I'm not!" Arthur snapped defensively, feeling his face heat up and his eyes burn. He wrapped his arms tightly around his boyfriend and buried his face in the man's shoulder. "You're such a sweet, wonderful idiot."

The American chuckled, rubbing the sentimental Brit's back comfortingly. "I love you too, you temperamental, hotheaded cutie."

Arthur would have slapped him if his brain were functioning properly. As it was, he was sedated when he was ambushed by Alfred's addictive kisses. Closing his eyes and leaning into the kiss, he vowed never to forget any dates ever again, and to make Alfred's birthday far more "awesome." The idiot deserved it, after all.

O-o-O-o-O

Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.

I meant to upload this on the 23rd, but my laptop spazzed and not only was unable to finish it, but I couldn't post it either. Such a bloody fricking piss take. Ack, whatever. It's a bit late, but here it is. I hope you like it more than England... I think his mind imploded.

I was going to write a límon in Arthur's office, but meh. Didn't feel like it. -shot- Maybe for Alfred's birthday...

Later~ Happy belated Saint George's Day!