USUK- I love you more than Nutella

FLUFFY YAY

     Alfred's and Arthur's friends were worried. It had been a few weeks since Arthur had arrived at school and Alfred had not been talking to him. 

     "Do you think he hates him? It was looking so good, I thought they were going to get together mon cher!" Francis whined. 

     "Well, ships never really work out," Elizaveta sighed.

      Little did they know that Alfred was sneaking into his room while injured. Even when injured, he would go to his love- I mean friend- for protection. Because Alfred fucking Jones was afraid of thunderstorms. And yes, would run to Arthur for protection instead of Matthew and the rest of his friends. He climbed in through the window and dropped onto the ground. The lights were on and there sat a shocked Arthur at his desk with his pajamas on. Alfred waved and flashed that grin that made Arthur's stomach feel all weird.  

     "So, I wanted to just visit you because I'm terrified of thunderstorms," Alfred explained, grinning. 

     "Don't say it as if it justifies your reason for breaking into my house!" Alfred wanted to yell, but instead he just said, "Okay then." 

     "I knew you'd understand!" 

      "Please don't shout, I have a terrible headache."

     Alfred nodded, "You look sick."

      "I am sick twit."

     "Yeah, I wanted to call you, but the author was too lazy to give me a phone and your number."

     "Alfred?"

     "Yes?"

     "Did you just break the fourth wall?"

     "So, about your sickness, can I help?"

      "You can go make me some soup. My parents have been out on a business trip and I'm too sick to make it myself."

     "Yes sir!" Alfred saluted him and raced downstairs. Arthur stared at him a moment, sighing and murmuring, "Idiot."

     Fifteen minutes later, Alfred had raced upstairs with a  hot bowl of... something that definitely wasn't soup. He set it by Arthur with a grin that melted the Brit's heart. Stupid pearly whites and boiling Arthur's heart. Arthur gave it a distasteful look before looking back at Alfred, "What the hell is this?"

     "Something Yao taught me how to make!" Alfred said cheerfully. Arthur flinched. For some reason, Yao's cooking just didn't seem to be trusted, especially when made by Alfred. Arthur didn't question how Alfred knew Yao. He already knew the answer. Because he was Alfred fucking Jones. 

     "I don't exactly trust you," Arthur murmured, picking up the bowl and inspecting it. Alfred laughed.

     "Come on Iggy! I ran to your house in the pouring rain! And I was injured!" 

     Said person nodded and began to eat the meal. It was surprisingly good (It's surprising because you can't cook worth a damn Arthur) Alfred smiled a bit and sat by him. "Is it good?"

     It was amazing, but Arthur wouldn't say that. "S'okay."

      "That's good! Glad you like it!"

     "Mhm..."

     He finished it off and sighed, standing. His headache seemed to have only gotten worse and he was exhausted. This caused him to fall because the laws of physics do exist in books. And Alfred, not knowing what else to do, caught him. They stood there for a minute before Alfred just decided to carry the boy to bed. And said boy was absolutely terrified, embarrassed, and having this strange reaction to the calm look on his face. The American set the Brit on the bed, sighing softly as he pulled the covers over him.

     "Night Iggy, I'll be sitting right here." Alfred walked over to the desk he was once sitting at, smiling at him, "Don't fear, Alfred is here to be your hero!"

     And something about that grin made Arthur actually feel like Alfred was his hero.

    ~ ~ ~

When Arthur opened his eyes, Alfred was asleep and leaning against the chair. He looked peaceful with his arms and legs crossed with a neutral expression on his face. Arthur almost thought about it... but he never finished his thought. Wouldn't it be n ice to ki-

     He was interrupted by rude and loud knocking. Although, Alfred didn't seem bothered. Arthur grumbled and stood, trotting downstairs and opening the door to  see Matthew and Francis standing there with worried expressions.

     "Have you seen Alfred? I haven't seen him all day and I'm worried," the twin explained, moving his hands rapidly and accidentally hitting Frog in the face.

     "Ow!" Frog whined, rubbing the sore spot on his cheek. 

       "Sorry, anyhow, have you seen Alfred?" Matthew asked (Not sounding very Canadian like mind you) 

      Arthur sighed as if the question pained him, which in a way, it did. "Yes, he's upstairs."

     The two rushed past him and up the stairs messily. This did not please Arthur at all. As for Alfred, he was awake and murmuring to himself. Something about a 'Brit' and 'The Revolutionary War.' 

     "Alfred!" Matthew yelled, running over to hug his brother. Alfred grunted and looked at his twin, laughing softly. 

     "Aw, did you miss me?" Alfred asked, patting his brother's back lightly. 

     "I was just worried you injured yourself even worse."

     "K bro, but I didn't!"

     "Good thing."

     Arthur let out an audible sigh, causing everyone to turn to him. 

     "We should probably get going," Matthew said awkwardly. The rest agreed and so they left. Arthur watched them from the window and sighed. Damn that American... making him feel all weird.