My second Hetalia fic! I've been desperate to write another for so long, especially for AmericaxEngland.

This turned out a little more crack-ish than I intended... Oh well!

I dedicate this story to one of the awesomest people in the entire world, as well as one of my best friends ever, gleek1121xo. Much love to you, my dear! Thank you for the prompt when our mean friend George was refusing to let me brainstorm! :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, sadly.

"Will you buy me a pony?"

Arthur looked up from his newspaper, staring, bewildered, into Alfred's eager face.

How the bloody hell did he get into my house?

"W-what?" Arthur reeled back, and in return, Alfred continued to lean forward, daring to invade the older nation's personal space even more. Arthur regained his senses and pushed the younger nation back. "Stop that!"

Alfred merely smirked and sat himself down in the nearest chair. "Come on, Artie! Buy me a pony!"

"What on earth are you talking about, you prick? And don't call me 'Artie.'"

"I want a pony. How are you not getting this? We both speak the same language—well, more or less. There was that whole 'rubber' incident…"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "How you ever got a condom out of an eraser, I'll never understand. You're such a pervert."

"You seemed perfectly fine with that the other night, Artie."

A blush that Arthur was becoming all too familiar with crept into his face. He scowled, insistent on standing the ground he was gradually losing. "N-never mind that! I will not get you a pony! If you want one so bad, get it yourself."

"But it's not the same."

"How is it not the same? And now that I think about it, don't you already have a pony back at your house?"

"… Maybe. But it still isn't the same."

"How the fuck is it not the same?"

"But it's not a pony from you."

Arthur's standby outburst died instantly in his throat. Softening, he was unsure of whether to be touched by his boyfriend's sentiment or disbelieving that they were having a tender moment over a pony, of all things. He sighed, folding his newspaper up and setting it aside in favor of Alfred's hand.

"You're good, you know that? And a fucking bastard, too," he said, offering a small smile.

Alfred nodded and grinned. "And you're going to get me a pony!"

Arthur closed his eyes. As a nation, he was brilliant. As a man, however, he was utterly pathetic.

"And I'm going to get you a pony."

"Hell YEAH!"

Arthur had never heard of The Animal Emporium before, but it had to be largest pet shop in the world, specializing in every animal known to man that was generally welcomed as a household pet. Hand-in-hand, he and Alfred walked into the shop—it was more like the Taj Mahal for animals—only to be immediately greeted by the distinct odor of probably over hundreds of animals housing together. Arthur felt himself go woozy from the smell. Alfred, of course, was unaffected.

"This is so cool! Look over there, Artie! A monkey!"

Arthur wrinkled his nose. "Don't call me 'Artie.' How can you stand that smell?"

"I'm a pioneer, Artie! It smells like nature."

"You're full of it."

"Yep! Now, let's find me a pony!" He pulled on Arthur's arm, diving into the center of the shop. "Hey, Artie?"

Arthur grimaced at the nickname. "What?"

"Since we're in your country right now, does that mean the pony that I get will be British?"

Arthur didn't even dignify that with an answer.

To say that it was a maze would be an understatement. It was a struggle for Arthur and Alfred not to become separated and lost for all eternity. Arthur found himself clinging to Alfred for dear life on more than a couple occasions.

Not that he minded, of course.

On another note, their ventures in The Animal Emporium brought even more of the child out in Alfred, in that he not only wanted a pony now, but also every other animal in the shop.

"Look at the gerbils, Artie! And that goat! Dude, that cat is totally hairless! Oh my God, is that a giraffe?"

Between Alfred's interjections and the smell of the shop that ceased to diminish, Arthur found himself with the start of a headache.

"Alfred, remember, we're only here to get one thing—"

"OH! Artie, look! Look! Look! Are you looking?"

"What the hell am I supposed to be looking at?"

"The puppies!"

Alfred bounded over to the dog section, planting his face on the glass window, just as a four-year-old ran up to do the same thing. Arthur couldn't help but smile.

"Oh, Artie, aren't they so cute?"

Indeed, they were adorable. Arthur watched the litter of them run around in their canine lair, chewing on toys and wagging their tails and gazing up at the humans with eyes that could melt even the angriest of hearts. One of the puppies in particular, chestnut-coated with the biggest eyes Arthur had ever seen, barked merrily at the two countries, jumping around in a circle. Arthur watched Alfred's face light up with delight. The American spun around and regarded the Englishman with same enthusiasm as the puppy in the cage.

"Can we get him, Artie? Puh-leeeeeease?"

"What about your pony?"

"I already have one of those, but I've never had a dog before! Which is your fault, by the way."

Arthur scowled. "You couldn't take care of a dog when you were that young. In fact, you can barely take care of yourself now."

Alfred ignored him. He reached into the cage and took out the puppy, holding the creature close enough for the dog to lick his entire face. Laughing, Alfred exclaimed, "See? I'm great with him! Let's get him, Artie. We can share joint custody of him. Wouldn't it be nice to have a pet that everyone else could see, too?"

Arthur frowned, resisting any harsh remarks, as there were children around. "Flying Mint Bunny doesn't appreciate that attitude. Besides, I have no need for a dog."

"Everyone could use a dog. They're man's best friend."

"Alfred—"

"Just look at his face!" Alfred stepped closer, holding out the dog to the older man. The puppy's dark eyes bored into Arthur's, adding a soft whimper to his plea for a home. Before Arthur knew it, Alfred was sliding the dog into his arms and the dog was licking the bottom of the United Kingdom's jaw.

He's awfully soft… damn it.

"C'mon, Artie," Alfred said softly, smiling, looking as bright as a child again. "Think of it as a milestone in our relationship. We'll have a life to take care of."

It was those words that made Arthur want to kiss Alfred so badly, right then and there. He would have, too, but he was still being kissed by the puppy.

One last attempt at persistence. It was a failed effort, he knew, but an effort nonetheless. "He'll make a mess of the house."

Alfred grinned cheekily. "Well, so do we, every night, when we're trying to get to your bedroom. By the way, I fixed that lamp we knocked over the other night."

There it was again. The heat in his face, as always, right on cue. "I don't know about this, Alfred…"

"How can you deny this little face?" Alfred closed in on both Arthur and the dog, leaning his head against the puppy's and giving Arthur a boo lip. Arthur tried to determine which was more ridiculously adorable, the dog or the younger nation.

He knew he was screwed.

"Fine," he announced, giving Alfred a quick peck on the cheek. "We can keep him."

Alfred jumped, whooping and pumping his fist in the air. The puppy expressed his own joy by barking happily and licking Arthur's face even more.

"All right, that's enough." Arthur handed the dog back to Alfred. "Shall we go find his things, then? He'll need a doghouse, a bowl, a leash—"

"Oh, the dog will be fine! He's a good little guy. He won't need a leash."

"I wasn't talking about the dog."

As he walked away, smirking, Arthur decided that the look on Alfred's face was worth all of the trouble owning a pet was going to bring.

I have no clue if there actually is such a place as The Animal Emporium, or even if there's any pet shop that sells ponies in its store. O.o

I wished to do an AmericaxEngland fic, and I was given the prompt of: dog. This be the result.

Hope you liked it!