June 17, 2011

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or anything related.

Morning Surprise

"Alfred! ALFRED! Come down! No! NO! Nononononononono!—oh bloody hell—Alfred!"

Said American came rushing down the stairs—just when he was about to beat the last boss, too!—and looking for the source of the noise.

He still had his half-eaten burger in his hand, his hair disheveled, for he had not combed it that morning, his A-shirt was tugged up here and there, and his jeans were slightly loose. To put it short, Alfred was a messy sight.

Messy…but still hot.

Those glasses, those eyes, those legs, those arms! Oh, if only a certain Englishman turned around and directed his attention to the tan American, he'd find himself blushing beet red, avoiding eye contact, and throwing all sorts of insults like, "You git! D-dress yourself properly!" or "Y-you bloody idiot!" or, simply, "B-bloody…what are you doing!"

That would lead into Alfred laughing his annoying yet contagious laugh, leaning in to tease the Englishman, making him blush an even brighter shade of red, if that was even possible. He would throw more insults at the American, lift his hand to punch him, but only to be stopped mid-swing by a stronger hand blocking the assault.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Alfred would roughly pull the Englishman closer, the latter blushing furiously, stuttering weak and false protests, while Alfred laughs again and lifts the Englishman's chin…closing the distance—

Unfortunately, said Englishman did not turn around.

As Alfred descended the last stair hurriedly, he still heard Arthur's repeated screams of panic.

"Oh dear—oh bloody hell—WAIT—NO! No-stop, stop! Oh—no! Bloody hell! Stop!"

Alfred turned the corner into the living room with the doors to the backyard and with the kitchen. He had assumed that Arthur was cooking—or rather, trying to cook—and accidentally set the place on fire. It wasn't uncommon, no. Until he saw that the kitchen was empty and no smoke or burning smell filled the air.

Seeing as the kitchen was safe, Alfred felt a bit more relieved.

Another shout and the sound of a falling object meeting the hardwood floor regains Alfred's attention. He snapped his head in the direction of the sound and saw a pair of arms flail around in desperation. Arthur was focused on something in the corner behind the dining table and cabinet. The chairs were pushed around, all out of order. He stumbled back and forth, panicked and having no idea where to go or what to do.

"A-Artie? What are you doing?"

"Oh bloody hell, Alfred! Your cat, you damn git! Stop your cat! NO! STOP!" In between ordering Alfred, Arthur screamed at the poor, innocent cat. Well, as innocent as he can get…when he—

"ALFRED! Hurry up! Oh, you idiot—the poor bird!"

"What? Snickers, stop!" Alfred picked his dark brown tabby cat up and tried to grasp the situation. Arthur was still occupied by something underneath the cabinet.

"Bloody, hell, what am I going to do? Come on, I won't hurt you."

Looking around, Alfred finally saw the stray feathers all over the floor and noticed how Snickers still eyed the same corner Arthur kneeled in.

As Arthur still stumbled around looking for a way to get the bird out from the place it believed was safest, Alfred headed towards the bathroom and temporarily locked Snickers in. He went back, and Arthur was still mumbling.

"Here, let me do this." Arthur was gently shoved out of the way, and Alfred continued, "You know, you could've just picked Snickers up."

"I-! I-there was a knife in my hand!" A blush formed.

"Then set it down." Alfred slowly slipped his hand into the small opening under the cabinet and firmly grabbed the terrified bird.

"…" Arthur couldn't counter that, and no way was he going to admit to being too flustered to think straight. His cheeks felt hot.

"C'mon, get outa there…it's alright…good…I gotcha, no problem." Alfred scooped the bird carefully into his cupped hands and brought it outside through the screen doors leading to the patio. Arthur stood watching, knife still in hand, and admired the clam way in which Alfred handled the situation. He followed him into the huge yard outside and saw Alfred set the poor bird down gently.

"Good…now go. You can go now, hey." The bird, still shocked out of his mind, having almost seen Death himself, stood there and stared at Alfred. Well, the idiot stared back. "Aren't you gonna go? Or do you like me that much?" He smiled—it bordered on a smirk.

"You git! Did you check to see if it was hurt? Maybe it can't fly! Your stupid cat hurt it!" Arthur rushed over to where they were, and keeping a distance from the gray bird, he bent over and examined it. The bird didn't move. Slowly, Arthur tried to sneak closer, but as soon as he took two steps further, the bird deemed that was a bit too cozy and immediately flew away.

"Ah, well. I guess it's fine after all."

"Ahahhahahahahahah! Did you see this hero at work!" Alfred threw his head back and guffawed.

Arthur blushed. "Yes, yes, you git."

"I saved the day again." He had suddenly gotten behind Arthur and his arms snaked around the blushing man's waist. Arthur dropped his knife from surprise. Alfred whispered right next to Arthur's ear and nipped it. "I saved you, too. Did you see how flustered you were?"

"Sh-shut up!" From his neck up, Arthur resembled a perfectly ripe tomato. Romano would be jealous, if he was there.

"You looked so cute, flinging your arms aimlessly like that."

"…" Arthur turned his head away from where Alfred's face was…so close.

"You're so cute when you care so much for another living thing, like that bird."

The blush spread itself further, hugging every part of Arthur's face.

"You're so cute when you blush like this, avoiding eye contact." He whispered so tauntingly near Arthur's ear again. "I love watching you with that face full of concern, but I love this face even more, when you try so hard to hide your embarrassment, yet it shows as plainly as if a billboard announced it to the whole world…" He kissed Arthur's burning neck. "…that you love what I'm doing right now."

"I-I'm not hiding anything!"

"Oh, but you are."

"Sh-shut up, you stupid idiot!"

"Hahahah! Okay!"

"Wha—"

He was cut short as Alfred firmly planted a kiss on his lips.

"Mmmhhhhnggnnnn." Their tongues met and Arthur couldn't help but moan at how skilled Alfred was. That git. Where'd he get such experience?

"Mmm…Artie, you're bright red."

Arthur ignored that. He turned around and locked his hands in Alfred's smooth hair, pulling him back into their kiss.

Alfred couldn't resist smiling at Arthur's aggressiveness. He rarely was the one to pull for a kiss. He wrapped his arms tighter around Arthur's waist.

The latter broke away, panting. Had he not stopped their lips from their heated embrace, Alfred would have let them go on for who knows how long. Their foreheads leaned against each other.

"That scared the crap out of me."

"What, the bird?"

"The bird, and your cat, damn it!"

"Hahahah! Care to tell me what happened?"

That blush sure loved Arthur's face. "W-well…I was cutting an apple this morning…"

"Mhm. Yeah?"

"Snickers was outside, so I left the glass door open so that he could come back in through the slot in the screen door."

"Mhmmm."

"Then, I see him walking back in. I had finished cutting the apple, and I still had the core in my hand. I-well, I was about to eat the parts left on the core…then I see the bird in Snickers's mouth…oh—its poor wings…One wing didn't close…it was hanging open…oh blood hell…" He closed his eyes shut.

Alfred held him tighter, pulling their two bodies closer. "Mhm. Go on."

"Well, at first I thought it was dead…you know, when he brings those lizards in, they're always dead already."

"Yeah."

"I still didn't want him making a mess in the house, so I followed him and watched where he was going. He dragged the bird into the living room, where the T.V. is, and set the bird down. To my surprise, it started flapping its wings furiously and tried to escape. Snickers, that darn cat, jumped up to pounce of it again. Too bad the bird was probably too scared to know what to do, and it didn't fly too high. That's when I started screaming for you to come down—I didn't know how to catch the bird! I still had the knife in my hand, and the bird flew towards me, and Snickers was pouncing right after it, and I was screaming for him to stop, and then the bird got on top of the cabinet, and Snickers was going to go after it, and bloody hell, was it a mess."

Arthur lowered his arms from Alfred's neck to behind his back, resting his hands on Alfred's shoulders.

"Hahahaha!"

Arthur's eyes snapped opened and he glared at the American.

"It's not funny!"

"Hahah—I'm sorry." A smile.

"It-it's fine." A blush.

"I love you, ya know." A soft whisper.

"I—I know, you git." An embarrassed stutter.

"Good." A peck on the lips. "Now, let's go back inside. Unless, you want something else…" He smirked.

"N-no! What are you thinking, you stupid wanker!"

"Ahahhahahah! Let's go. Snickers is still locked in the bathroom." He reached back and grabbed Arthur's hand.

"F-fine. You better clean up the feathers."

"Wh—at? Hmph. Fine."

"You git."

"I know you still love me."

"Sh-shut up!"

Another peck to the lips, and Alfred tugged on the Englishman's hand again, leading him back inside, laughing all the while.

.

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A/N: This story was inspired by my own experience with my cat and him catching a bird...I reacted exactly how Arthur reacted. It was somewhat of a disaster...and yes, I was cutting an apple too. XD

Thank you for reading!