Hello and welcome to my unoriginally named fanfic hoard, The Library!
Here you'll find short fanfics and oneshots by myself. I hope you enjoy them! Feedback is much appreciated!! ^^
All plots are mine, but all characters belong to their original owners!! Thank you!
Enjoy~!
--UM
Lame title, forgive me...
Just a fluffy little Maple Tea one shot I came up with from sleep-deprevation. Hope you guys enjoy!
A bit of OOC-ness, I guess...hopefully not too bad? ^^;
No characters are mine.
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Arthur Kirkland had no idea how and why, but one minute, he was giving his well thought out battle plan to drive German soldiers out of Poland’s house, and the next, his face was covered in whipped cream.
“Wha…WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THIS?!”
Arthur’s face went bright red as he scanned the other Allies. There was a brief moment of silence. Then Alfred, that goddamn Yankee, burst out into hysterical laughter. And the rest of them followed. “Stop that! You bloody twats!” Arthur fumed, clenching his fists til they were white. “When I find out which one of you prats is responsible for this, I swear—!” He was met with another cream pie to the face, one he wasn’t sure where—or, more appropriately, who—it had come from. “TH-THAT’S IT!” he all but screamed above the obnoxious laughter. “YOU’RE ALL A BUNCH OF GODDAMN BLOODY IMBECILES! DISRESPECTFUL BLOODY PRATS! NONE OF YOU CARE!” With a face red as a tomato now, and covered in whipped cream to boot, Arthur threw down his clipboard and stormed out of the conference room, still able to hear the laughter for quite a while longer than he should have as he stopped, hesitated, then dashed down the hall.
~~~
“Quite a good plan, Alfred!” said Francis Bonnefey through his ohhoho-ing laugh. “Ze look on Angleterre’s face…Magnifique!”
“I agree, da,” Ivan Braginski added, chuckling quietly into his pink scarf.
“It was pretty smart of me, wasn’t it?” Alfred F. Jones said with an obnoxious laugh. “It was what Eyebrows deserved for being such a tight-ass to us!” He continued to laugh while eating his burger, causing a spray of food to fly everywhere.
“Shi,” Yao Wang agreed, giving a nod and laughing in a fairly high-pitched tone. “Maybe he’rr ray off us now, hm?”
“Or ‘e’ll crack down ‘arder,” Francis sighed.
“Well, we’ll just give him another cream pie to the face then, won’t we?” Alfred was met with cheers from the other three, and then the laughter resumed.
No one noticed the extra person quietly slink out of the room.
~~~
Arthur finally stopped running at the end of a hallway near the elevators. He leaned back against a wall, breathing heavily, then sunk down until he sat on the floor. Hastily, he searched through his jacket pockets until he found his handkerchief. Then he pulled the jacket off, wiped off any whipped cream that had gotten on that, and began to work on his face. He’d gotten most of it when he stopped, handkerchief still resting on his cheek. No. No. He was not going to cry. Gentlemen don’t cry, not even in private. He let the hand with the handkerchief drop to his side. Screw the fact he had gotten no sleep, staying up all night to work on a way to get Feliks out of this war, and was exhausted beyond belief. What did that matter? Screw the fact he was still dealing with that goddamn Blitzkrieg and getting weaker by the day. That really wasn’t that bad, was it? It certainly wasn’t worth crying over, and neither was this bloody cream pie!
Screw this, Arthur thought, feeling the tears start to well up in his eyes. He choked back a sob and pulled his legs up so that his knees were bent and he was able to lean his head on them. He sat there, shaking, fighting desperately to hold back the tears he knew were coming. So maybe he wasn’t as strong as he’d initially thought. Heh. At least he was alone now. He remembered the others’ loud, mocking laughter, and it became even more difficult not to cry. Thank god they weren’t here now…They’d just keep laughing at him…Uncaring…
Then Arthur heard a soft voice from beside him, and he immediately froze. “You missed some.”
Arthur lifted his head, suddenly feeling the tears get very, very heavy, to see who it was who had followed him out. The blonde crotched beside him had violet eyes hidden behind his glasses and a soft smile across his lips. Matthew… “Here,” said Matthew Williams, reaching out with his own handkerchief and wiping some of the leftover cream from Arthur’s face and hair. “I think you’re good now.”
He’d forgotten Matthew again…Had he been in the room when it had happened? Surely he had…Arthur hated how often he forgot the Canadian was part of the Allied Powers as well. Thankfully, it was much easier for him to remember Matthew when they were alone…Of all the people to follow him, Arthur was glad Matthew was the one. “Thank you, lad,” he mumbled quietly. Matthew smiled wider, then put a gentle hand on the Englishman’s shoulder.
“Arthur, are you alright?” he asked.
Like that really needed to be answered. “Just peachy,” Arthur replied, narrowing his eyes a bit as he felt the tears finally start to drip a bit down his cheek.
Matthew sighed and wiped away one of the tears with his hand. “I wish I could have warned you,” he said. “But I didn’t know…I’m so sorry, Arthur…”
“It’s not your fault,” Arthur muttered almost inaudibly, turning away. Matthew kept his gaze on him for a minute, then turned and glanced at the ceiling.
“…Something’s troubling you,” he said at last, “and it’s not just the prank.” Arthur kept his eyes down, tears falling somewhat faster now. Matthew was too good at reading people…He was good at picking up on things others didn’t want to be picked up on…as if all this crying wasn’t making it obvious…
“I’m fine. I’m just…really tired,” he said with a sigh.
Matthew gave him a skeptical look. “There’s something else,” he said.
“There’s nothing else.”
“Tell me, Arthur.” Matthew placed his hand on Arthur’s shoulder again. “Look at me, please?” Hesitantly, Arthur turned his face back, well aware that he was really full-blown crying now. “Tell me what’s got you like this,” said Matthew softly, laying his other hand on one of Arthur’s own.
Arthur gazed into those violet eyes for a minute. Matthew was someone he could trust, right? But…by telling him that, Matthew might…think less of him? Did he really want to risk that? He’d tried so hard to keep himself held in high regard with the Canadian…but here he was, a blubbering mess who’d just had whipped cream all over his face. If that didn’t make Matthew think less of him, nothing would.
Matthew squeezed his hand gently, breaking him from his thoughts. “R-right…” he mumbled. “I-It’s just…” He sighed, and looked away from Matthew again. “This war,” he said quietly. “It’s got me worried.”
Matthew’s head tilted slightly. “Worried? That it won’t end? Cuz it will, Arthur, all wars do…” But Arthur shook his head and moved his hand away from Matthew’s, laying it over his heart. London.
“I’m worried it’s going to take me down with it, Matthew.”
The Canadian’s eyes widened a bit. “You couldn’t possibly think that could happen!” he said, tightening his grasp on Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur shrugged away from him, eyes always to the ground. “Arthur, I…”
“It’s a real possibility, lad,” he interrupted weakly. “I’ve…I’ve been fading…The bombings…” His heart ached at the mere thought of them. “There’ve been days where I haven’t been out of bed. There’ve been days I’ve been surprised I woke up in the morning.” He bowed his head slightly. “There…There’ve been days I’ve wished I didn’t, Matthew. Just…the pain itself, and then knowing that my people…” He stopped, feeling his throat close up. He squeezed his eyes shut. God, he was a living, breathing waterworks now, wasn’t he? His breaths were getting shorter, his shaking worse… He was a mess. An absolute mess. The great United Kingdom, reduced to nothing but tears.
He heard Matthew move from beside him. Are you going to leave me then? he thought to himself. Leave me alone here? Have you lost that much faith in me? I wouldn’t blame you, Matthew, luv…
Luv…?
But he wasn’t given time to ponder his own word choice. Matthew hadn’t left. He’d moved to in front of him now, and Arthur felt arms wrap around him. Then he felt cool lips brush against his forehead, and he looked up in shock.
“Arthur…” said Matthew quietly, blushing ever so slightly but still looking right into Arthur’s eyes. “This war will not bring you down. You’ve survived much worse than this. You can’t lose faith in yourself, Arthur. Don’t give up. Please don’t give up. You’re stronger than that. I…” He glanced away. “I wish I was as strong as you, Arthur…Maybe I’d be able to protect you more…It pains me to see you like this…” He moved his eyes back and brushed his hand across Arthur’s cheek. “Arthur…” he murmured, moving closer to him. “Oh, Arthur…you’re going to make it through this. I promise, alright?” Their faces weren’t too far apart now, and Arthur felt his face going red again…but not from anger, something else… “Y-you promise, too, okay?” Matthew whispered, barely a sound at all.
“Matthew, I…”
“For me?”
Arthur sighed and laid one of his hands on Matthew’s arm. “Alright. I promise,” he said.
“Promise what?”
“…That I’ll make it through this. For you. Alright?” He felt his blush get deeper as Matthew blinked a few times. Such beautiful eyes…
Matthew didn’t make any motion to back away, though his blush was much deeper than Arthur’s. “Good. And I promise to always be here when you need me. For anything,” he said. “Sound good to you?”
“Sounds absolutely lovely.” Just now, Arthur realised how close they were…inches, centimeters apart, even… “Th-thank you…Matthew…” The words, hardly a whisper, barely had time to leave his mouth before the two of them closed the distance. The kiss was gentle, innocent, almost unsure, and yet Arthur somehow felt more amazed by it, more breathless, than any deep, passionate kiss he’d had before. It lasted for only a few seconds, then Matthew pulled back, face bright red.
“I-I-I’m sorry!” he stuttered, loosening his arms from around Arthur. “I-I didn’t…I-I-I…”
“Don’t apologise, luv,” Arthur murmured, pulling Matthew back towards him. Luv did sound nice. “Don’t leave…” He wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace, and Matthew, somewhat shocked at first, hugged him back.
Arthur just let himself go then. He cried and shook and cried more, because somehow it felt okay to him now, to let it all out. He didn’t have to worry about Matthew thinking down on him…Matthew…amazing, lovely Matthew who was holding him and comforting him and kissed him and…It felt right, being there. It felt safe, it felt like home. And so they stayed there, Arthur crying and Matthew gently rubbing circles on his back and whispering to him, telling him he’d be alright, until Arthur’s tears ran out and he simply shook in Matthew’s arms. Even that eventually died away, and soon Arthur just sat there, feeling the comfort of the silence and the person he was all too suddenly realising he cared about much more than he’d thought…
Finally, he broke away and looked into Matthew’s lovely eyes again. Smiling, Matthew kissed his tear-stained cheek and then brushed the other one. “Do we have to go back to the meeting?” Arthur asked quietly.
“Of course not,” Matthew replied. “We can do whatever you’d like, Arthur.”
“Then I don’t want to go back. Not for a long time.” He laid his head against Matthew’s chest and sighed contently.
Matthew ran a hand through Arthur’s sandy-colored hair. “I’ll be yelling at Alfred later, if it makes you feel better,” he said. Arthur let out a hmm of satisfaction and closed his eyes. “Or…” the Canadian began, after a few moments of silence. “…I do sleep in the same hotel room as him…I could arrange a little visit with karma, if you’d like that more. I know where to get some whipped cream…”
For the first time in months, Arthur started beaming.
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So maybe Arthur bawling his eyes out was a bit OOC, but if you were putting up with cream pies, sleep-deprevation, and being bombed every 24 hours or so, wouldn't you be ready to crack too? ^^;
Hopefully you liked it. Thanks for reading!! ^^
--UM
