How the Germans Stole Christmas Part 2

Title: Oh Christmas Tree
author: me
warnings: Prussia?
characters: prussiaxcanada
summary: What oh what is a Canadian to do when his home is broken into on Christmas eve?


“Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas treee, F**** you and your branchesss~”


The white-haired man sitting on Matthew’s couch hiccupped and chuckled to himself at his own clever rendition of the popular Christmas carol. He took a swig from the beer in his hand and then settled back against the couch. Matthew still hadn’t worked up the courage to tell the man this wasn’t his house.


He had been hiding in the kitchen since half an hour ago, when the albino man previously mentioned had kicked in his front door (he rarely kept it locked) and drunkenly stumble to Canada’s couch. Matthew had come down from his room, noticing a draft, and had promptly went into heart palpitations on seeing a stranger lying the futon. Needless to say he decided to confront the man at a later time, and thus retreated into the kitchen and hid behind the door.


“Hey…Hey you! M-Matthew!…c’mere. ”

The cowardly nation froze in surprise when he heard his name. This guy…Prussia, was that his name? Yes, Prussia was definitely it, he’d seen him before at conferences…Prussia knew his name? He knew Canada existed to begin with? Curiosity finally got the better of his judgment. After all this guy was drunk, but he didn’t seem very threatening… Cautiously, Matthew crept into the living room.


The Prussian man eyed him glassily as he entered the room, surveying his unwilling host with an air of mild indifference. As soon as Matthew entered the room however, Prussia jerked his head in the direction of the still open door. “Close th’ door, will ya? My awesome ‘s getting cold.”


The Canadian stared at the inebriated ex-nation in disbelief. This guy knew this wasn’t his house, knewww he hadn’t been invited, and now he had the nerve to tell Matthew to shut the door? Canada felt his often-repressed temper flair, but just as he was about to start ranting, the Germanic nation turned his eyes back to the blond and flashed him a disconcerting smile. “ Waiting for something?”


Matthew quickly walked across the room and closed the door. Then, deciding the kitchen did after all need more decorations, began a hasty retreat. “S-sorry, I’ll just let you-”

“Wait.” The red-eyed man on his couch suddenly staggered up, grabbing a handful of Canada’s nearby Christmas tree for support. Slowly he made his way toward the blond, swaying slightly. The unfortunate nation began to back away in panic, but the Prussian was too fast. Lurching forward, he caught the sleeve of Matthew’s hoodie, effectively preventing escape. He was so close now that Canada could smell the beer on his breath. “You’re staying here.”

Matthew started to tremble, purple eyes clouded with fear. He lowered his head and clenched his eyes shut, waiting for the beating he knew must be coming next. This sudden reaction caused the ex-nation to blink slowly in surprise, and he looked the shaking nation over unsteadily. “What, ‘re you cold ‘r something?”

Matthew raised his eyes slowly, uncertainly. “Y-you…you’re going to hit me now, right? I mean, you think I’m America obviously and you want to ‘get even’, don’t you? Please just get it over with quickly…”

Prussia looked at him incredulously, “W…wha’? Why would I confushe you with that tool Alfred? I know who y’ are…you’re Matthew Williamsh, Canada, ” He slurred triumphantly. “Now…stay here, or better, get me some beer ‘n turn on the TV.”

The cowardly nation did as he was told, puzzled. No misplaced beating? Not willing to push his newfound luck though, Matthew quickly dug through the refrigerator and returned from the kitchen with two Molsons* in hand. He found the ex-nation seated back on the couch again, waiting for his return. Prussia stared up at him and nodded in satisfaction. patted the seat next to his. “Sit down.”


Matthew flicked the TV on to a random Holiday special and, after some hesitation, joined the other nation on the couch. Prussia immediately slung his arm around the blond and lazily turned his attention to the television. This was turning out to be one of Canada’s more bizarre Christmas eves, being held captive in his own home.


The ex-nation of Prussia, oblivious to the blonds obvious discomfort, relaxed further into the couch and made himself comfortable. For the most part he seemed to ignore Matthew, eyes darting back to him only occasionally to check if the other was still there. After the albino man had laughed through the scene where Rudolph’s parents were kidnapped by the Bumble, Matthew finally screwed up the courage to ask.


“So um…P-Prussia?” the Germanic nation flicked his eyes slowly to the nervous man under the crook of his elbow. “Call me Gilbert.”


“Gilbert…” Canada began again, tentatively, “Um…I mean, I-I don’t mind or anything and I um, I’m not trying to be rude but…why exactly are you here, again?”


Gilbert’s eyes darkened and Canada flinched, expecting pain. Instead though, the albino man sighed, slowly removing his arm from around Canada’s shoulders. Red eyes glanced away, and Prussia’s cheeks tinged a deeper red than the norm left by alcohol. He mumbled, and Matthew had to lean forward to get the words. “ ‘ just felt like it.”


Canada felt his pent up frustration with this uninvited visitor get the better of him, “It’s just because, um, you kind of kicked down my door, and you know, collapsed on my couch and drank my beer and I really think you should-” Whatever his next words would have been, they were abruptly cut off by a pale hand across his mouth.

Prussia rolled his eyes and gave the Canadian a lopsided grin. “And here I thought you were the quieter one.” Matthew simply blushed in reply, the fingers on his lips effectively subduing him.

Gilbert continued as if nothing was amiss. “So you wanna know, huh?” The Prussian leaned his head back as if contemplating, “Well honestly, I just figured, ‘hey, who doesn’t want to hang with awesome me on Christmas?’ And, since I knew you would be alone and all my friends are um…busy, you deserve most to be graced with my presence. Oh yeah, and I also wanted to tell you that-” Here he suddenly stopped, his train of thought catching up to his mouth. “Uh, nothing.”


It could’ve been the latent affects of the beer, but Matthew thought the ex-nation suddenly looked nervous. He gently prized the hand off of his mouth and after taking a deep breath asked curiously, “Tell me what?”

The TV began playing “Frosty the Snowman”. The albino man’s reply was not forthcoming, but Canada attributed this to the change in movies engrossing his attention. He realized with a start though that Gilbert’s eyes were instead fixed intently on him, and not only that, but he seemed to be struggling for words. Matthew had really known this man all of two hours, and already he could tell this was unusual. “Um Pr-Gilbert…?” he tried, worriedly.

All at once Prussia’s staring softened and he looked at Matthew pleadingly. “Matt, I…I’ve wanted to talk to you for a long time you know. I mean, you’re probably thinking hat because I’m so awesome I could just talk to anyone, but I uh…I just got a little nervous, so what? I mean you…you and I aren’t that different, you know? Ever since I…lost status, I started noticing that people wouldn’t listen to me as much. Why listen if I don’t even have my own country? Well, don’t get me wrong, West and his hot piece of Italian boyfriend do, but it’s not the same. And then…I noticed people weren’t paying attention to you at meetings either. I thought that was stupid, because hey, you’re an actual nation. You have just as much power as any of those jerks, especially your brother…I started noticing you a lot more, around meetings and stuff, and I noticed something else. You…” The ex-nation blushed, looking at the ceiling, anywhere but Matthew’s face, “Maybe all you needed was what I wanted, someone to…give you attention.”

Matthew stared up at the man next to him, at a loss for words. Gilbert had noticed him before? This wasn’t some joke of fate, someone actually wanted…just to spend time with him? His mind reeled and unconsciously he leaned closer to the Prussian, wanting so badly for any of this to be true.

Gilbert stared back into his eye and then, he reached forward. Gently, much more gently than the Canadian would’ve expected, he brushed Matthew’s bangs off of his face and caught his always-stray curl, twirling it around a finger. Playing with it, he shot the blond a lopsided grin. “And who knows, maybe it’s the booze talking…but you don’t seem to hate the idea.” He shifted back into a more cocky persona, “I mean, why would you, but at the very least you haven’t thrown me out yet.” He seemed to be waiting for a

reply, the tiniest hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

Truthfully, just sitting there on the couch watching a Christmas movie while a strange man was playing with his hair, Canada was a bit confused. Yet despite this, he found that he didn’t want to say no. Sure, this guy definitely had ego issues but…Matthew could tell he wasn’t lying. He was lonely too, and he wanted to spend his Christmas with someone who he knew could relate, who would understand…like Matthew.


Prussia almost fell off the couch in surprise at the sudden hug his midsection got from the Canadian. Gilbert spluttered a few half-formed exclamations, but didn’t push him away. Matthew straightened up and looked at him, blushing. “I…I would like you to stay with me for Christmas, please.”

Gilbert’s eyes went wide with disbelief. Then he looked away, cheeks coloring. He shrugged his shoulders nervously, but Matthew could tell that he just wasn‘t used to people responding like that. With Sincerity.“…Thanks, Matt.” Prussia said nothing else, but he pulled the other nation closer.

A few hours later found the Canadian watching the flickering screen of the television sleepily. He was halfway through one of the classic Christmas movies, but he couldn’t exactly remember which one. Next to him, a white-haired man lay sprawled across the couch asleep, head lolling on Matthew’s shoulder. The purple-eyed nation smiled in spite of himself and made the Prussian more comfortable on his shoulder. It had been the weirdest Christmas ever he decided, and with that the tired Canadian closed his eyes. As he nodded off, Matthew found himself hoping only one thing. He hoped next year would be just as weird.





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* Molson= a Canadian beer

How the Germans Stole Christmas Part 1

Title: Gifts
author: meee
warning: umm...why do people warn human names?oh, and fluff
characters:GermanyxItaly, also brief mentions of SpainxRomano
summary: Italy invites Germany to an impromptu Christmas party....


The reflection in Ludwig’s mirror straightened his tie for the ninth time in two minutes. Germany glanced at the clock. Two minutes and thirty seconds.

It was Christmas eve, and Ludwig found himself getting ready for an impromptu Christmas celebration at Feliciano’s house. Impromptu being the key word, as the Italian had only shown up on his doorstep to invite him this morning. He had accepted, on the ground that if he hadn’t, it was more than probable he would’ve awoke to find a sleeping Italian beside him the next morning. Now that it was drawing closer to the actual party though, Ludwig found himself at a loss as to what he should wear. He paced back and forth in front of the mirror, checking himself self-consciously.

“Relax West, you look like a real ladies man. Which you aren’t of course, but hey, you look it.” Ludwig turned to find his brother slouched against the doorway, grinning and nursing a pint of beer. Germany immediately felt his cheeks heat up at the intrusion and took a step back in disgruntled surprise. “Bruder! How long have you been there?!” He felt a vein on his forehead throb at his sudden rise in blood pressure, so Ludwig pinched the bridge of his nose to calm himself.

Prussia uncoiled from his position on the doorway and ambled over to Germany’s side easily. “Long enough. So, tonight’s the night, huh?”

The angry lines in Germany’s forehead were immediately smoothed over by a look of confusion. “Tonight is the night for what?”

“You know! The night you’re finally gonna nail Feli!” Gilbert smirked and made an obscene movement with his hips. “Mein Gott, I wish I could be there for that!”

Germany’s eyes went wide and he stammered defensively, his sense of modesty putting him at a loss for words. “I would-I would never show such disrespect toward Feli-Italia! We are friends and allies, nothing more!”

Prussia just continued to smirk, sipping his beer knowingly. “Whatever you say West, whatever you say…anyways, I gotta go, and you should probably head to your party.”

“You aren’t coming with me?” Ludwig had invited Prussia to accompany him, though truthfully it was mainly because he did not want to see his brother spend another Christmas eve alone. Germany’s gaze flicked from the beer in Gilbert’s hand to his face. Prussia tended to drink heavily when he was feeling lonely.

“Naw, I got other plans. Now what are you waiting for?” Without further words Gilbert herded his brother down the stairs and out the door, not bothering to say goodbye. A party would be good for West, maybe even give him the reality check he needed about Feliciano. In the meantime, Prussia began pulling out maps, trying to find the quickest way to Canada.

Germany knocked on the door for the third time. He had been standing outside for about ten minutes and now he was beginning to worry Feliciano had either forgotten or was injured. Ludwig shifted the wrapped box he was holding from hand to hand. Had he gotten himself stuck in the dryer again? Had Switzerland finally gotten him? A thousand terrifying scenarios raced through Germany’s mind, and just as he had decided to break down the door, surprisingly, it swung inward. The next few seconds were a blur as Ludwig was tackled into the snow at the bottom of the steps.

“Ve, Ludwig! You came! I mean I didn’t expect you to come because you’re too serious for parties, but you did, and I fell asleep waiting and I didn’t here the door, but then I-”

“Italia!” At Ludwig’s bark Feliciano immediately stiffened and was silent, looking worried. Germany’s expression softened into a rueful smile and he patted Italy on the back awkwardly in apology. “It is good to see you.”


Feliciano’s face lit right back into its usual grin and he nuzzled his cheek against Ludwig’s chest. “It’s good to see you too Germany, I missed you a lot! Come inside!” Before the German had time to process the light feeling in his chest where Feliciano had been, he was already being pulled up out of the snow and inside. Quickly, Ludwig grabbed his gift from out of the snow. As he was yanked up the steps he couldn’t help but allow himself a small smile. Perhaps an unplanned party was not such a bad thing.

Inside, Ludwig was surprised to find that he seemed to be the only one there. “Italia, where are the other guests?” There were decorations up all around the house and a large amount of food on the table, but no one in sight.

Feliciano smiled at him sheepishly. “Well… I asked Arthur to come, but he said he had plans with Alfred tonight. Oh yeah, what’s ‘snogging’? Then I tried Kiku but he didn’t pick up, and Nii-san usually wanders the streets drunkenly on Christmas. Oh yeah! Antonio is here but um…he’s upstairs with Lovino.” The nervous shrug Feliciano ended this sentence with told Germany not to expect the pair anytime soon. That left the two of them. Italy smiled up at Ludwig, but there was no hiding the crestfallen look on his face.

Seeing his friend was a bit put out by his lack of guests, Germany patted Feliciano on the shoulder. The Italian looked up again in surprise, but slowly he broke into a genuine smile. To Ludwig, it was like storm clouds breaking from a blue sky. He wished he could always make him smile like that. Shaking his head before those thoughts could go any further, he coughed nervously and let go of Feliciano’s shoulder. “Um Feli-Italia, I brought you a present, would you like it now?”

Italy nodded eagerly, eyes bright. “Ve~” he hummed happily, suddenly pulling Ludwig toward the Christmas tree. “Oh, I got you something too! We have to open it under the tree though, because that’s where you open presents!” Ludwig let himself be led along, cautiously curious. Feliciano hadn’t even been sure he was coming, yet he had gotten him something? He silently hoped it wasn’t another pair of boxers. Uncertainly, the tall blond knelt in front of the Christmas tree and handed Italy a brightly wrapped box.

The brunette flung himself down on the rug as he tore into the gift eagerly. Ludwig had gotten him a set of finely made horse-hair painters brushes, as well as oils in almost every color. Feliciano fell silent the minute the box was opened. His eyes glowed almost reverently as he felt the brushes, looking the other nation in awe. “Oh Germany…”

Ludwig looked away, blushing despite his better efforts. “If they aren’t the right kind just tell me, I can bring them back or exchange them-” He trailed off, seeing the look on the Italian’s face.

Italy hugged him fiercely, so tightly that Ludwig wondered if maybe training was paying off after all. “D-don’t return them! I love them Germany, grazi, grazi!” Feliciano kissed him on both cheeks happily, and now it was Ludwig’s turn to be stunned. He suddenly wished he had another present to give Feliciano, if only so he could get that reaction again. When he looked at him like that, Ludwig felt like…

Feliciano poked Ludwig in the shoulder gently, snapping him out of his thoughts. He had a strange sort of secretive smile on his face, one Germany had never seen on him before. It was gone in a second though as the Italian pushed a small box toward the German’s chest. Their hands accidentally brushed and Ludwig swallowed, aware of how intently Italy was suddenly staring.

“I hope you like it.” Ludwig unwrapped the paper gently, as if it were wade of something much more breakable than cheap paper. He knew this particular habit always drove the Italian crazy, but he couldn’t help himself. Gifts from Feliciano were special. He opened the box and felt his heart perform an unusual flip.

Inside lay two necklaces, each with a tiny oval pendant on a sterling silver chain. On one pendant was the tiny likeness of the Italian flag, the other had German’s own colors. Ludwig picked the first necklace up and examined it wonderingly. A present like this…for him?

Italy giggled and carefully retrieved the German flag necklace from the box in Ludwig’s hands. “They match, see? Now, wherever we go, we can always have a little of the other with us.” Feliciano put the German necklace around his own neck for emphasis.

Ludwig was too deeply moved for words, and so he barely managed a nod. Used to his German friend’s stifled emotions, Feliciano wore a pleased grin, waiting. After a brief pause Ludwig found his voice, “ Ita-Feliciano…Thank you, this is… beautiful.” He felt strange calling a gift for himself beautiful, but it truly was.

Feliciano beamed at the praise and held a hand out. “Here, I’ll put yours on for you.” German had barely heard the words “put on” before Italy was kneeling in front of him, fingers brushing softly against the exposed skin on near his collar as he fumbled with the clasp. “Nuh, it slipped…” He bent his head closer to Ludwig’s chest, hair now brushing his skin.

Every place their skin made contact felt electrified to the German. He held still as possible, trying to make it easier for the Italian while at the same time battling the urge to pull him closer. “Got it! Oh-h!” Italy let out a whimper of panic.

German quickly looked down to see what was the matter. Italy was trying to pull his head back carefully, but Ludwig saw that the errant curl on his head had gotten wrapped into the chain of the necklace. Every time Feliciano tried to pull away, he shuddered and let out a soft cry. He began to pant.

If Ludwig didn’t know better, he would swear that…but no. The taller man decided it must be a look of pain and came to Italy’s aid once again. Gently, he put a hand on the back of Feliciano’s head to prevent him from tugging anymore. At the touch, Italy stilled, letting out a soft whimper, “G-Germany…” Ludwig hushed him softly and went to work, The other hand delicately untangling the strand. After several heavy seconds Feliciano’s curl sprung back, freed of the chain. Both nations sighed, each for a different reason. Feliciano tilted his chin to look up at Germany, and Ludwig noticed his eyes were dark, a coy smirk on his lips. “Grazi Ludwig…” Without further warning or words the Italian grabbed the collar of Ludwig’s shirt and drew the German’s lips to his own.

Italy’s mouth against his was soft and insistent. Under his persistence Ludwig felt himself give in, returning the kiss with interest as his mind buzzed at the shock of this new experience. The smaller nation took this as encouragement, skillfully teasing the kiss deeper and pulling the blond man tighter against himself.

Minutes later Romano came charging down the stairs, indignantly cursing when he saw what that potato-bastard was doing now.

Hope You're Bloody Surprised
Once again, it was the fourth day of the seventh month. Or in other words, the most awesome-tastic day ever. Alfred zipped around his house excitedly, knocking into cabinets full of fine china and on more than one occasion upending Lithuania’s cleaning supplies.
The timid country chuckled, moving his bucket out of harms way as the American made another pass. “Mr. Alfred, I wont have time to finish cleaning before the party if I continue losing my supplies.” The hyperactive country in question laughed good naturedly and clapped a hand on the brunette’s shoulder. “Sorry Toris, I forgot you still had cleaning to do.” He grinned and ruffled the other man’s hair, “You work too much though, take the rest of the day off , will ya? After all it’s my birthday, you should celebrate it with me!” Lithuania looked at him uncertainly, and Alfred suspected that days off had not been to common with Russia. He was going to have to seriously teach Toris the fine art of goofing off someday. Alfred flashed him another smile and left him to his work, dashing into the garden to watch (or pester) the people putting the final decorations up for tonight.
 As six o’ clock rolled around the first guests started arriving, with Ludwig and   Feliciano arriving right on time in accordance with the German’s punctual style. Germany gave him a stiff nod and Italy an affectionate “Ve~” Not long after others started trickling in, with the happy-go-lucky Spain dragging along a swearing Italian brother, and Japan and China being hounded by a persistent Korea, who exclaimed he was the inventor of birthdays. Russia and France were last to arrive, one beaming and swinging a section of pipe, the other clearly trying his best to avoid connection with said pipe (He noticed Lithuania was no where to be found).
 Alfred looked the busy garden over happily, but he couldn’t shake the feeling something wasn’t right. He scratched his head, staring  absently at snack table as he tried to put his finger on it .Something was definitely…lacking. Jamming an hor d’ oeuvre in his mouth the blonde took in his surroundings, determined to solve the mystery. He pushed his bangs out of his eyes for a better view and in the process brushed the patch of hair above his eye. He froze. Eyebrows….where was England!? With a sinking feeling he scanned the faces, hoping to pick him out. Arthur was nowhere to be found.

    He hung his head in disappointment. Arthur…wasn’t coming, was he? Alfred pushed his hair back and started pacing. This whole thing was so ridiculous, England should be over it by now, right? America sighed in frustration, “I wish you wouldn’t do this to me, I thought you would come this time.” After all, even though this was his Independence day, it didn’t mean England wasn‘t allowed. As he mulled things over, Alfred failed to notice the approach of a certain Frenchman.

    “So, is this a new party game? Staring at your feet muttering while everyone else has fun?” Alfred blushed as France leaned in and kissed him on both cheeks, grinning in a way that made the younger man feel more like he was being molested than greeted. “H-Hi Francis, naw, I was just uh, going over party plans!” France smirked, clearly unimpressed with this pitiable excuse. “I see, so earlier you weren’t…looking for someone then?”

    Alfred colored, blue eyes briefly widening before he recovered with a quick smile. “He he, no, why would I be looking for someone?” Damn that man was observant. France smiled knowingly and stroked his chin, seeming pleased about something. “My mistake then mon ami…however, you look upset. Luckily, I believe that my gift will be just the thing to lift your spirits.” Before he could ask what that meant France had already winked and walked away, wasting no time in his favorite quest of scoring at parties, Alfred supposed. Alfred fervently prayed it wouldn’t be another dildo this year. Or date-rape drugs. He made a quick mental note not to drink the punch. And to have France frisked at the entrance next year.

    The night seemed to be going pretty well. He still wished England would’ve shown up…but, at any rate, everyone else seemed to be having a good time. China was in a corner, serenely enjoying the music as he hid from Korea, and Switzerland was only firing blanks. Even Germany had a small smile on, though that probably had something more to do with Italy asleep on his arm. Yep, he could throw the best parties ever…so why was he still upset England wasn’t here? France clinked his wine glass, breaking Alfred out of his reverie and bringing the room to a reluctant quiet. “Merci…now, I believe it is time for presents for the birthday boy?”
 A stuffed panda from china (saw that coming).Boxes of pasta from Italy (did that guy think of anything else?).The…severed head of a bald eagle from Russia (with love, Alfred noted).Gifts were just about done and with them his hope England would just randomly show up. Well, there was always next year…”Thank you all for coming, its been great to-”He was interrupted by a polite cough. “Oh but America, you have yet to receive my gift.”
 Alfred turned and there was France, wheeling in a giant enormous cake. Alfred pushed his glasses up, surprised at what he was seeing. He wasn’t even going to ask how France had snuck that in here and yet it was so…thoughtful and nonsexual of him. “Wow thank you so much!” Touched, he noticed there was even a little Captain America on it. He reached over eagerly, dipping his finger in to taste the frosting. And then the cake started cursing.
 “FRANCIS BONNEFOY, WHERE THE BLOODY HELL AM I!?” As France laughed hysterically, an angry, bound British man burst out of the cake, showering pieces of it over a very, very surprised America.
Uncle Sam! England had his hands tied, wearing only a Union Jack speedo, in the middle of his cake. Alfred felt his cheeks flame up as he looked the green eyed man over startledly. Meanwhile, France was grinning like a cat. “Do you like it? I thought it would be most appropriate for your birthday, delivering you the once great British Empire on a silver platter, so to speak.” A few other countries (really only Gilbert and Romano) joined France in another round of laughter at the unfortunate Englishman. Alfred remained silent, watching as the humiliation stung Arthur‘s cheeks into color. He wanted to say something, make them stop laughing. He felt the sudden urge to either slap France across the face or hug him. Then England’s gaze fell on him, and Alfred knew he was the one being blamed for this. Still… Arthur really knew how to pull off a bathing suit, damn. Guiltily, Alfred realized he was staring and looked away just as England stared speaking .“Oh sod off, all of you! Slack-jawed gits!” With as much dignity as he could muster, Arthur climbed out of the cake and walked  stiffly out of the garden.

    “Wait! Arthur, hey, wait a second!” Alfred ran out after him, past the laughter and inquiring glances of the other nations. England saw who it was and scowled over his shoulder at him, picking up the pace. “Go away America.” Alfred, in typical fashion, ignored him and sprinted, closing the distance between them with ease and grabbing England by the arm. “Please England, I just wanna-” Arthur whirled on him suddenly, anger an embarrassment seething in his eyes. “Want to what America? Gloat!? Lord it over me some more that I got drugged and stuffed in a damn cake  to celebrate your precious Independence!?” Alfred released his grip on the other country’s arm, taking a step back in surprise. “No! No I just…Do you, do you want some clothes?” Alfred  wasn’t sure what to expect, but not the sudden slump in Arthur’s shoulders, the sudden tired look of defeat that crossed his eyes. “Very well…I’m not staying though, so you can forget about it.” America huffed, resisting the urge to point out he hadn’t really asked him to. He reached for the other’s wrist to lead him inside, but England jerked his arm away, avoiding Alfred’s eyes. “I know the way.” Alfred sighed and  silently followed Arthur into the house and up the stairs to his room.
 He closed the door behind them, shutting out the noise of the party still carrying on outside. America turned and found Arthur fumbling with the knots at his writs, cursing  both France and Alfred as he tried to tear the rope apart with his teeth. It’s a shame Francis only bound his hands Alfred thought. He did feel slightly responsible though, so he grabbed Arthur’s hands to help.
   The Englishman immediately turned pink. “What do you think you’re doing?!” Alfred blanched, surprised by his reaction, “Um, untying you?” Alfred’s stomach tightened nervously as he realized how close they were, why England was suddenly turning redder. If he just leaned in a little more, they were almost…Arthur suddenly tried to yank his hands out of Alfred’s grip, but well, Alfred was ridiculously strong. He instinctively tightened his grip, angry at Arthur’s erratic behavior. What was wrong with him anyways? “Hey, cut it out I’m just trying to help you!”

    “I don’t need your help you stupid wanker!” Arthur just continued to struggle against his grip,” just like you don’t need me!” Alfred’s stomach twisted as  England’s struggles intensified, suddenly getting desperate. “L-let me go! God-God damn it America, why wont you go away!?” Alfred’s eyes widened in shock as he realized England’s were suddenly watery, sparkling too bright a shade of green. “Damn Yankee. Why do you have to do this to me? Every year…”He was speaking mostly to himself now, his struggles becoming weaker as tears slid down his face. “Why do you always make it hurt this bad, every year!?” Alfred bit his lip, feeling…small. Suddenly getting it. Sure, he had made jokes about the subject now and again, but he had only been joking. Why should they have made England cry? Alfred was the hero, heroes didn’t make people cry…
 He felt like he had back then, when he had been little and broken Arthur’s favorite vase. He remembered the look on the other man’s face and how guilty he had felt. He had tried to put it back together but he just couldn’t fix it…Then he remembered another face. The face England had on that day in 1781. The day America had finally won and Arthur had lost everything.
  The room felt like it was too close. “A-Arthur I-” England lifted his head and glared at him, acknowledging his presence with a fierce glance. “You what?” “I…I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the hurt I caused you.”
    Arthur snorted, “Like bloody hell you are.” He turned his face away, and Alfred knew he was going to lose. “Arthur please! I really am sorry! I’m not sorry I gained my independence, but I didn’t want it to be like this! I didn’t  want to be always fighting! I didn’t want you to stop caring! Always ignoring me and  putting me down.”

    England’s eyebrows lowered menacingly, but when he spoke, there was surprising softness in his voice, “You stupid git. Accuse me of anything else, of being a tyrant or an oppressor, but never accuse me of not caring. I never stopped caring about you. Even when it was all over, I used to stay up nights worrying, wondering if you would survive on your own. Don’t you ever accuse me of not caring.”
    Arthur was in his face now, yelling at him,  but he was closer than he had been in hundreds of years. He looked into America’s eyes, and Alfred saw everything. He saw years of pain and confusion…longing. Years England had worked so hard to keep tucked away. And then Alfred suddenly had  his arms around England, not wanting to that closeness to leave. Wanting to be small and in the other’s arms again, like he used to be. He let his head fall on Arthur’s shoulder, hoping he wouldn’t be pushed away. He needed England to believe him. He needed him. “I’m  so sorry, please…”

    Arthur sighed, and Alfred let him go, color spreading to his cheeks and ears. “Whoa. I-I’m sorry more, I shouldn’t have-”Arthur silenced him without a hand or a word. He simply leaned in and pressed his lips against Alfred’s, gently but firmly. Alfred’s blush deepened and the room swam as England broke the kiss with a small smile. “You‘re terrible at apologies.” Alfred laughed pulled him close again, lifting the smaller man and making his face burn as he kissed him back hard. Alfred grinned at the heat in Arthur’s face “You know, not to give you a big head or anything, but you may be my best birthday present yet. England looked away, trying not to smile. “As I should be. Happy birthday, you bloody Yankee.” He let his head fall against Alfred’s chest, smiling in a way he hadn‘t in years, “Now untie me, I believe you still have a birthday party to finish.”

Hi there!
So ummm...I'm new to this whole LJ thing, I'm mostly a DA girl myself, but it's exciting ^ ^!
Hopefully, I'll be using this for fanfic and ect, and for reading stuff too of course.Lol, my main fandoms are MCR and Axis Powers Hetalia, so anyone interested in those, I'd be pleased to meet you^ ^


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