Tea Party (USUK)

"Hey Artie!" Alfred's voice came enthusiastically through the phone. "You should come earlier for the holidays!"

"What?" The English nation did not appreciate being woken in the middle of the night by overexcited Americans, no matter how much he liked them. "No, Alfred, I can't. I've got work-"

"Oh, I already cleared it up with your boss and changed the tickets to tomorrow." Alfred told him cheerfully. "So you're flying over, and it leaves at like two-thirty."

Arthur instantly became more awake. "What? Alfred, it's the fourteenth of December, why the hell do you want me there so early?"

"Surprise." Alfred told him, and then hung up.

"Alf-" Arthur found himself speaking into an empty phone. He glanced at the time. Two thirty-eight in the morning. Grumbling, he put the phone down and drifted off again.

He was still grumbling the next morning as he packed, and on the plane- but there under his breath; he wouldn't dream of disturbing the older lady dozing off next to him- and the mutters hadn't ceased by the time he landed. Going through American customs was a pain- why the hell would he bring any seeds or plants or food? Alfred had enough, and the damn brat would probably be ungrateful to boot. However, his status as a nation and alias as diplomatic messenger speeded up the process and he was walking out to meet the American less than an hour after he landed.

Alfred brightened and started waving when he saw the Englishman, and Arthur frowned just a bit. He still wasn't sure exactly what his relationship was with Alfred. Of course, the English and American governments were on very good terms; a few years ago, the 'Special Relationship' status had even been renewed. But Arthur's personal relationship with Alfred was more complex. Arthur had come to terms (somewhat) with his slight attraction to the other, and he was fairly certain Alfred liked him even a little bit as well, but they never talked about it or anything. And Alfred always insisted that Arthur spend the holidays with him, though usually it ended up with him playing video games while Arthur worked through some of the papers he'd received from his boss.

"Good afternoon, Alfred."

"Hey!" Alfred wrapped him up in a short but warm hug. "How was your flight?"

"It was fine." Arthur's arms briefly went around Alfred in return, though he quickly let them hang loose. "Though you are an arse," He elbowed Alfred in the side. "For springing the change on me with no warning."

Grunting slightly from the jab, Alfred let out a chuckle. "Yeah, well it was necessary. An' you get to spend more time with the hero during the holidays!"

"What fun." Arthur muttered, though his face showed more that he thought this was the farthest ides of fun he could imagine.

"Ain't it?" Alfred released him and grabbed his luggage. "C'mon, c'mon!"

"What's with the rush?"

"We've got places to be!" Alfred looked back at him excitedly.

There was, however, a glint in his blue eyes that sent small warning bells going off in Arthur's head. "Where are we going?"

"First Boston, then we're gonna spend Christmas and New Year's in New York. The party's gonna be the twenty-third this year." Alfred hauled him out of the airport and into his car.

"Boston?" Arthur frowned slightly. "Why Boston? And why the twenty-third?"

"There's lotsa stuff going on there before the holidays. An' the twenty-third cuz why not? People'll get to go and spend Christmas with who they want, then."

"You're being oddly considerate." Arthur gave him a sharp glance as they sped out of New York. Just because the Englishman recognized his crush didn't stop Alfred from being insensitive most of the time.

Alfred waited a moment to answer, swerving slightly around a slow driver. "Maybe I learned some stuff from you?" he finally replied, flashing him a smirk.

"That I doubt." Arthur shook his head and focused on the road.

It took them about four and a half hours to get to Boston. The journey was filled with slight arguments and pop music. The music, in fact, was the cause of their largest spat. Arthur couldn't take it after just under an hour, and after multiple declines from Alfred about changing the station they finally just shut it off and drove in silence. After about half an hour of that, Arthur caved in and turned the radio back on, muttering how the 'trash' was better than nothing. Smirking in victory, Alfred proceeded to belt out every song that played until Arthur thought he would go insane.

The English nation almost cried in relief when the Boston skyline came into view. "Finally..." he muttered. "Hotel or your place?"

"...Dude, do ya even gotta ask? My place, of course!" Alfred quickly maneuvered the car to the block his apartment was on. Penthouse, of course, though in a surprisingly modest building.

A small sense of uneasiness had been building up in Arthur's stomach since they entered the city, but he didn't quite know why so he dismissed it as the aftereffects of flying. Even so, his legs felt just slightly weaker than normal as he stepped out onto the curb, and he had to grab the door of the car to steady himself.

Alfred noticed and snickered. "Age gettin' to you, old man?"

"Not at all." Arthur snapped back. "It's merely jetlag. And since you seem to be in such fine shape, you may take my luggage up."

"...You don't usually have jetlag." Alfred frowned a bit as he grabbed the suitcase from the back.

"I also don't usually get woken in the middle of the night."

"...Right. Well c'mon, let's get his Royal Grumpiness up to bed." Alfred unlocked the door for him and ushered him up.

"Don't make me smack you." Arthur grumbled, though he held onto the railing moreso than he would normally.

"Don't make me laugh." Alfred snickered some more.

They entered the house and Arthur immediately headed to the guest bedroom. Luckily Alfred seemed to get the message that he wanted to be left alone and didn't disturb him for the rest of the evening. Arthur simply changed into pajamas and went to bed; he was out in seconds.

~~~~~

The next morning, he woke with a headache. He groaned and turned to the side, massaging his neck lightly. He didn't think he had slept wrong, but there was no other reason for it. Still wincing at the light, he made his way to the kitchen, where Alfred was already waiting with breakfast.

"Oh hey Artie." Alfred grinned at him. "I just put the tea on. You want your usual?"

Arthur blinked. "Err...yes." Why was Alfred acting so strange? He never thought he'd see the day when the American made him his tea of his own volition. "Thank you..."

"No problem!" Minutes later, the water was boiling and the tea was ready. "So we're gonna go somewhere, then grab some food. You haven't ever been to Boston, have you?"

"I have, a long time ago. Before..." Arthur cut off as his head throbbed at the memory of that event.

"Welp, things have changed plenty, so I'll show you around!" Alfred frowned slightly at Arthur's wince. "You okay there?"

"Headache."

"Oh. Here." Alfred stood and rummaged around his upper cabinets before dropping an Advil onto the napkin before Arthur. "It should help." There was no way anything was going to ruin his fun, especially a headache on Arthur's end. He scarfed down his food quickly and then waited, impatient, for the other nation to finish as well.

"Thank you." Noticing him waiting, Arthur took his time even more. He finally sped up the process when he heard Alfred sigh for the third time.

"Finally..." Alfred moaned when Arthur finished. "Leggo! Leggo!" Barely giving Arthur enough time to place his dishes in the sink and put his coat on, he dragged him outside.

"Alfred-!"

But it was too late; they were out the door and down the street. The blocks passed in a blur, and since Arthur didn't know the city, there was nothing he could do but blindly follow Alfred. They ended up by the Boston Harbor, and Alfred leaned against the railing. He was grinning easily, face turned to catch the brisk breeze blowing across the waters. Arthur's head let out another rather painful throb.

"Nice day, huh?" Alfred asked, eyes closed.

"Yes, I suppose..." Arthur replied, shooting him a sideways glance. "Why are we here?"

"Nice day for some tea." Alfred opened his eyes and lazily turned his head towards him. "Don't ya think?"

Arthur froze and winced as his head gave yet another throb. Why was he like this? He never felt this way unless someone mentioned-

"Nice day for a tea party."

Oh God. Of course, the date- December 16th. Arthur lurched forward and had to grasp onto the railing to keep himself from falling over. His headache pulsed with his every heartbeat, and he grew ever so slightly nauseous. "America-" What kind of a sick joke was this?

Alfred's grin widened slightly. "What? C'mon, it's a beautiful day, not too cold..." He rummaged around in his pocket and withdrew a small wrapped up package. "Here ya go."

Just managing to catch the parcel when Alfred tossed it, Arthur unwrapped it cautiously. His eyes narrowed and his fists clenched as he read the text on the bottle. Tea gathered from the shore of the Boston Harbor on the morning of December 17th, 1773.

"Figured you'd maybe want some of it ba-"

He didn't get a chance to finish, for Arthur had slapped him. The English nation stood, chest heaving and leaning against the railing, a heavy scowl on his face- heavier than had appeared in a long time- though there was also half hidden pain in his eyes. "How dare you, America?" he managed to get out. "You think this is funny, bringing me to this damned city on this day to give me this?!" He clenched the bottle in his hand even tighter.

"England-"

But Arthur wasn't listening. He hurled the bottle to the ground at Alfred's feet, and though it cracked it did not break. "Are you laughing, America? Is this as funny as you planned?" A particularly strong throb flashed through Arthur's head and he closed his eyes, swaying slightly.

The amusement long gone from his face, Alfred had been unable to keep the bottle from hitting the ground, but now he reached forward to steady the other. "A-Arthur?"

"Piss off." Arthur snapped, jerking away from him. He glared up at Alfred for a moment more, slapped him again for good measure, and then turned away. His steps were slightly uneven, but his anger fueled him and kept him going.

"H-Hey!" Alfred took a step after him, but he had already managed to vanish into the crowd. The American sighed- it was already 240 years since the Boston Tea Party had happened! Really, how long could someone hold a grudge?

But... Arthur had been in pain all day- he'd heard that the nation got sick whenever something to do with his independence came up, but he never imagined it to be quite so bad- and he'd known Arthur long enough to somewhat get a sense of when he was hurt internally. Guilt slowly seeped into his stomach as he reached down to pick up the bottle. Sure his words had been slightly teasing and the idea came to him in the middle of the night after he'd drank a bit, but the gift had been serious. He thought that Arthur would appreciate getting some of the tea back...

Cursing softly, he tucked the bottle away and set off to find him. And apologize.

~~~~~

Arthur had found his way to a random park not too far away, and he collapsed onto a bench there. Gradually his headache faded away into something slightly more bearable, and his nausea passed. But he was still furious. He had thought that perhaps Alfred had matured some, but it seemed that was not the case. No, but of course Alfred didn't really care how much pain he caused- especially to Arthur- as long as he got a rousing laugh out of it. The Englishman cursed himself for liking him at all, much less romantically. Minutes passed, he didn't know how many, and he suddenly felt a touch on his shoulder. Speak of the devil. Glancing up, he locked eyes with Alfred.

He jerked back. "Go away."

"No." Alfred replied, his voice oddly subdued. He sat down next to him on the bench and grabbed his hand when Arthur tried to move away. "I'm sorry..."

"As I said before, piss off." Alfred struggled in his grip, the headache spiking again.

Alfred held onto him tightly before pulling him into a hug. "No, no, Artie stop it please, I'm sorry-" He buried his chin in Arthur's hair. "I- I was stupid, okay?"

Slowly, Arthur stopped struggling though he did not relax. "You're just saying that- I have half a mind to leave now, go back to my house so I don't have to deal with your foolishness."

"Don't! Please don't, England, I mean it! I wanna spend the holidays with you!"

"Then why the bloody hell did you take me there?" Arthur managed to shove away and sat glaring up at him.

Alfred looked down. "I thought you'd be over it by now kinda! I didn't know you'd get that sick! An'- An' the bottle was serious! I gathered 'em up myself... I know you're really pissed, but please don't leave..." He gave Arthur the puppy eyes.

The other nation tried to resist, but in the end crumbled. Damn him and his blasted eyes. "...Don't think I've forgiven you, America." he muttered. "But fine, I won't leave just yet."

"Yes!" Alfred immediately brightened and hugged him again, pressing a kiss to the top of his hair along the way. "You won't regret staying, I know you won't! I'll make sure of it!" He rose and tugged Arthur up as well, dragging him back to his apartment.

And Arthur, dazed by the kiss but with a small warmth growing in his chest (though he still felt faintly pissed off and felt the matter was unresolved completely), could do nothing more but follow behind.