Sorry for making you all wait so long, it took me a while to come up with an idea for the second chapter that I actually liked. But here it is, and I hope you enjoy reading it. Review please!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia Axis Powers

Tea Mugs and Bomber Jackets

Alfred knew he was being kinda creepy, but he couldn't help it. After Friday night, all his thoughts had been about Arthur. And now, he was staring at the other boy during class with a burning intensity, trying to figure out Arthur's thoughts and feelings. But hell, he doubted if Arthur wanted anything to do with him ever again.

Maybe the Brit had figured out what he had meant when he asked about the dating advice, and had gotten freaked out. Sighing, Alfred turned his head back to the teacher who was rambling about something he honestly didn't give a damn about.

After deciding that the class lesson really wasn't all that important, Alfred stole another glance at the blond boy across the room. His heart swelled at the sight of the shorter male, and he watched as Arthur frantically scribbled down notes. With the ten minutes that were left of class, the American decided to get lost in his thoughts about Friday evening once again.

Why had Arthur reacted that way? He had almost tried to run away, like something terrible had just happened. He spoke normally, –albeit with a slightly shaky voice– and yet when he handed back the jacket, his emerald eyes were glassy. Damn, maybe he really shouldn't have tried to play it off like he was some cool popular kid. Maybe he should've just sucked it up, and asked.

Shit, he had screwed up big time, hadn't he?

Arthur wouldn't even glance in his direction anymore, and anytime he tried to strike up a conversation, Arthur would get a panicked look on his face like a startled animal. It was now Wednesday, which meant it had been five whole days since that little conversation they had had on their way to the parking lot. There was another game in two days, and he had really been hoping that everything between them would be fixed by then.

Well, actually, Alfred had been hoping that they would have already been dating by then.

He had been in love with Arthur for over a year, if he was completely honest with himself. Alfred saw him walking down the hallway one day, a plethora of books in his skinny arms, walking with poise and elegance and absolutely radiating confidence. Later, Alfred had discovered that that same boy was the fierce student council president. And that was when Alfred had known that he wanted to date Arthur.

It had been over a year since then, and to Alfred's dismay, they still hadn't begun dating. Hell, they weren't even friends. Of course, it was understandable, considering every time Alfred even thought about confessing his feelings his face turned a magnificent shade of dark red and he stuttered like a bumbling idiot. But nonetheless, he was determined to ask Arthur out by Friday.

Last Friday, when he had asked Arthur for dating advice, he had just been trying to be cool, to make it seem casual and try to find out whether Arthur would be bothered by him asking out someone else. He had been hoping that Arthur would react the same way as a character from one of those dramas his mom loved to watch, and yell something like 'go out with me instead' or 'don't date anyone but me' even though he knew that Arthur would never actually say something like that, the thought had been tantalizing.

It didn't go as planned though. Arthur had become strange after that, and had left shortly after. Alfred really regretted trying to be the 'cool guy' now. He should've just asked and been obvious about his intentions and feelings, like a true hero.

The piercing screech of the bell dismissed the class for lunch, and Alfred shoved his binder and notebook in his bag before rushing after Arthur who was already out the door. Maybe today could be the day he finally got his feelings off his chest?

Pushing his way through the other students with shouts of apologies and 'excuse me' he tried to wade through the sea of students, calling out after Arthur, hoping to gain the boy's attention. Finally, Alfred managed to shove through the crowd, only to see that the blond was nowhere in sight.

"Fuck!" Alfred whispered angrily to himself, biting his lip in frustration.

"Watch your fucking language!" A short Italian student –an upperclassman– yelled at him before shoving passed Alfred whilst flipping him off and walking away with a Spaniard. "Fucking asshole!"

Looking around the hallway once again, the bespectacled boy sighed in defeat as he realized that the person he was looking for was no longer in the area, and had probably fled away from him as soon as class had ended. Arthur had looked so... hurt last Friday, even if Alfred wasn't planning on confessing his feelings, he would still feel the need to fix things between them.

Fuck, he would ask Arthur out, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

Somehow, Arthur had managed to avoid him all week until Friday evening. Each time Alfred had approached him class, he had carefully and skillfully avoided him. There was one time in class where Alfred had almost choked the words out, but once again Arthur evaded him.

It was frustrating, in a way. All he wanted to do was ask the guy out, and suddenly it was like he was trying to buy an endangered animal off the black market. Classes were over for the week, and Alfred didn't have time to go chasing the Brit now, he had football practice to go to.

Putting on his gear, he prepped himself for the practice, slapping his hands on his cheeks. He could do this, he could be the best football player on the team.

"I got this..." He muttered to himself, brushing invisible dust off his jersey and not knowing if he was referring to the game or the Arthur situation.

That night after practice, he went out on the field with confidence.

The game had gone beautifully, and they had won by a landslide. Although there was one part towards the end of the game where Alfred had practically stopped in the middle of the field, mouth open and fumbling with the ball as his blue eyes spotted a certain someone staring at him from the bleachers.

He locked eyes with Arthur, silently questioning why the student council president was there. Alfred had been positive that Arthur wouldn't show up to this game after what happened this week, but he had been wrong. There Arthur was, sitting in the middle of the bleachers, making wild hand motions at him to signal him to run down the field.

Seeing Arthur's hand motions, he snapped out of his thoughts and scored his team the point. The game was over, his team had won. Cheers bursted from the students on the bleachers, and his teammates surrounded him in an adrenaline filled group hug. Slaps on the back from all around, and praises on his performance. Girls were screaming for Alfred, practically swooning.

Pushing away from his teammates, blue eyes looked towards the stands. Searching, analyzing every last student, but he couldn't find the one boy he was looking for. Where could Arthur have possibly gone in those few minutes?

"Guys, I gotta go!" Alfred yelled to his teammates, preparing himself to bolt out of the field and to go find Arthur.

"Al, ya can't leave, we're gonna have a party to celebrate our win! Dude, ya don't wanna miss it, there's gonna be beer and hot chicks." One of his teammates replied, grinning wolfishly.

It was a tempting offer, but Alfred had something more important to do, he knew that. "Sorry guys, I'm gonna have to miss this one!" He lifted his hand in an apologetic motion before jogging away.

As soon as he left the field, girls and boys alike surrounded him. Congratulating him, flirting and inviting him to parties. He apologized after denying the invitation and dates, saying he had to go home. Damn, he needed to get to Arthur, but the blond boy was nowhere in sight.

Spotting someone else who could possibly help him, Alfred managed to escape from the small crowd around him and got into the bleachers, panting from the exhaustion of playing a long game. "Kiku! Hey Kiku! Can ya come here for a minute?"

The quiet Japanese boy excused himself from his two friends, a tall and muscular German boy and a shorter, smiling Italian boy who was clinging to the blond beside him.

"Greetings, Alfred-kun. You did well in the game." He congratulated, his accent thick. "Did you need something?"

"Yeah man, you're good friends with Arthur, right?"

The black-haired boy seemed to think for a moment, before nodding. "Correct, we are on the student council together."

"Help a bro out and tell me you know his address." Alfred practically pleaded. If he didn't get to Arthur now, things could get worse between them. And then before he knew it, Arthur would get whisked away by some foreign French exchange student and he wouldn't even remember Alfred's name.

"I've gone over his house before, I do believe I remember the address." Kiku answered, sensing that his american friend was close to desperation.

As Kiku produced a pen and scribbled the address on the athlete's outstretched hand, Alfred asked what Kiku was doing at the game anyway, seeing as the boy had never been one for social events like this.

"Ah, I am here for the newspaper club. My friends asked me to come along." He replied, looking back to his two friends, one of which nodded at him and the other was waving wildly with a smile. "Good luck with Arthur-kun."

"Thanks man!" Alfred shouted back, already halfway down the bleacher stairs.

Arthur had left the game early. Why he had shown up in the first place was something even he couldn't figure out. He had told himself he wasn't going to go, had distracted himself with schoolwork and cleaning. The blond had even gotten a new book and brewed a cup of his favorite tea, but somehow he still found himself sitting in the middle of the cold metal bleachers.

He blamed Alfred for that, of course. If the American boy wasn't so damn attractive and incredible, he wouldn't be spending his Friday nights at football games and he most certainly wouldn't be feeling so distressed right now. This was all Alfred's fault.

Originally, he had been planning on just going to the game and avoided Alfred, making sure the other boy didn't see him and didn't talk to him. Nothing was wrong with just watching the game, right? But as soon as Alfred has seen him sitting there among all the other students, the guy practically froze on spot. After seeing the players of the other team approaching, Arthur resorted to using hand motions to show that Alfred needed to resume playing.

That in itself had been rather humiliating. He had freaked the other boy out so much last Friday night that now just seeing him made Alfred freeze. After Alfred had noticed him, he made sure to skillfully slip out of the crowd. He knew that if he stayed there, Alfred would come and talk to him after the game, probably to make fun of his silly behavior the other night.

The Brit had already been working his hardest to make sure that Alfred hadn't had the chance to talk to him, and so far it had been working. If he didn't talk to Alfred, then Alfred couldn't question his actions or tell him about that date that must've gone incredibly well.

Slipping off his shirt with a sigh, Arthur buttoned up his pajama shirt, straightening the soft green collar. Usually, he'd just wear an old band t-shirt and some boxers, but it had been getting rather cold as of late and he was tired of waking up in the middle of the night, shivering under the cotton sheets with goosebumps on his arms. Cracking his neck, he ran a hand through his sandy blond hair before trekking his way down the stairs.

Strolling into the kitchen with a yawn, Arthur grabbed the kettle off the stovetop and filled it with cold water before placing it back on the hot burner. Maybe all he needed right now was a cup of tea to calm him down. Tea was the answer to everything and in his opinion, you could never go wrong with a good book and an even better cup of Earl Grey.

Idling around as he waited for the water to boil, he pulled a mug out of the cupboard. It was a relaxing dark blue color, fading into a light blue. His mother had bought it a while ago, and he had to admit he had taken a liking to it. Speaking of his mother, he briefly wondered where she was before remembering that she was still at work. It didn't bother him, he had nothing against being home alone.

Sighing for the second time that night, Arthur leaned against the counter, daydreaming about the couple in the book he was currently reading. The main character was interesting, as was the romantic interest. He rather liked it, although he couldn't help but wonder when the two characters would get together. They were meant to be together, but it seemed like there was countless possibly obstacles to get in their way and the girl wouldn't just confess her damn feelings.

There was a knock on the front door, forcing Arthur to snap out of his thoughts. The kettle was still warming up, and the green-eyed teen moved away from the counter in order to go open the door for the person waiting there. Perhaps it was his mail courier with his package? He had ordered a few books a while back and it was around the date that the website said they should be arriving. But that couldn't be it, seeing as the mailman didn't deliver packages this late in the evening.

Confused, he put his hand on the doorknob, stopping for only a second to wonder who it could be one last time. There was another knock, and Arthur pulled open the door.

"Hey, Artie. Do you uh, have a s-second to talk?"

Alfred was standing there. On his doorstep. Still in his football uniform. He wasn't dreaming, was he? Arthur blinked quickly, trying to figure out if he was just hallucinating in his tired state, but no, this was indeed real. His secret crush was standing on his doorstep. What should he do? Oh god, he was in his pajamas. This couldn't be any worse, could it? What was he supposed to do?

Green eyes wide, he did the only thing he thought of.

He slammed the door in Alfred's face.

"A-Artie?" Alfred exclaimed in surprise, knocking on the door once again. He had driven all the way here, only to be met with a slammed door. If you asked him, it wasn't very fair. "Come on, man, I gotta talk to you!"

Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, Arthur was silently panicking. Oh god, Alfred probably thought he was being rude or maybe he thought a Arthur hated him and why the fuck is Alfred even here?

Opening the door once again, he exposed only a sliver of himself, trying to hide behind the rest of the door whilst staying inside so they athlete couldn't see his pajamas, or his bright red face.

"Why the bloody hell are you standing on my doorstep?" He asked, cringing when the words fell from his lips harsher than intended, but he was pleased that the other boy wouldn't be able to hear the embarrassment in his tone.

"At the game, you left before I could say thanks. Ya know, for signaling me to move again."

Arthur blanched. That was the reason for his sudden appearance? "Is that it, Alfred? You showed up at my house this late in the evening to say thanks?"

Both boys ignored the fact that Arthur was the reason Alfred had gotten distracted in the first place, instead continuing the discussion.

"Well, uh, yes. I mean, no, that's not it." Alfred mumbled, his words tumbling out his mouth as his cheeks became a darker and darker shade at an increasing rate. "That's not it at all."

"Then what is it?" Had the taller boy come here to poke fun at him? Had he come to tease and jest and say he knew about Arthur's feelings all along? Oh god, what if some twat had found out and told Alfred? His curiosity almost overcame his embarrassment, but he kept the door mostly closed.

"Ya know that conversation we had last week, right?"

Arthur nodded.

"And you know how I asked you for like, dating advice, right?"

Of course he remembered, it was the moment he almost began to cry. Of course he remembered, because those few sentences had made him fully realize that that he wasn't the one for Alfred.

"Yes, Alfred, I remember."

Alfred ran a sweaty hand through his sandy blond hair before rubbing the back oh his neck. He was here now, he was here, standing in front of Arthur, but somehow the words just wouldn't come out. On his drive over to Arthur's house, he had carefully planned what he was going to say and how smooth and flirtatious he would be, but somehow, it wasn't turning out the way he had planned at all.

In fact, this was rather humiliating. "Well, I actually, uh, meant to ask you out." He muttered softly, almost hoping that the Englishman wouldn't hear him.

"Pardon? Can you repeat that?" Arthur asked, ignoring the whistling tea kettle in the background.

Fuck, Alfred really didn't want to repeat it. But he couldn't just show up at Arthur's door, mumble some crap and then leave. That'd be more humiliating than actually saying what he came here for.

A real hero would do this, he reminded himself. A real hero would say what he wanted and get his feelings off his chest, right?

"I actually meant to ask you out. On Friday. But I screwed up and made things weird between us so I couldn't just leave things like that." He rambled on, saying unnecessary words and hand motions out of nervousness. "But really I had just wanted to ask you." He paused once again, looking at the ground before taking a deep breath and looking into Arthur's eyes, those big pools of forest green with hidden sparks of emerald. Those eyes were one of the things that made Alfred fall in love with Arthur in the first place.

And somehow, staring into them took his nervousness away. A small smile twisted his lips upwards, and Alfred asked the question he had wanted to for the last year. "Artie, will you go on a date with me?"

Part of him was expecting Arthur to slam the door in his face again and the other part was waiting for a slap across the face, but somehow, although he was nervous, he was also at ease. He had finally said it, he had finally tried to get his feelings across to the other boy, and it was a weight off his chest.

The door opened, revealing a shocked and blushing Arthur. His jaw fell open, and a pale hand covered his mouth, green eyes blinking rapidly. Alfred definitely didn't regret confessing now, and he'd do it again, if it meant he could see that stupidly-shocked look on the shorter teen's face.

Meanwhile, Arthur was trying to figure out if this was a prank. His heart as racing, far faster than it should. Was this all some sick joke? If he said yes, would Alfred's friends jump from the bushes and yell 'psych' whilst laughing at him?

He wanted to say yes, he desperately wanted to say yes. But part of him was afraid too. Locking eyes with Alfred, he tried to sort out his thoughts, Alfred's question and the whistle of the tea kettle echoing in his mind. The American boy's eyes were such a calming blue, like the color of his mug. They were aglow with so many emotions, it was hard to decipher.

"Yes." He found himself saying.

"Yes?" Alfred asked, a grin forming on his lips. Overjoyed and partly surprised.

The grin was contagious, and Arthur found a small smile playing on his own lips. "Yes, Alfred Jones, I'll go on a date with you."

They stared at each other a moment longer, Alfred mentally cheering for himself as Arthur inwardly sighed with relief as no teenage boys popped out from his shrubbery and laughed at him.

"Hey, man, I think your teapot is whistling."

Arthur nodded. "Would you like to come in for tea?"

Alfred didn't like tea, they both knew that. He preferred coffee, dark and rich. And even though they both knew that, it didn't surprise either of them when Alfred laughed and said yes before walking in Arthur's house.

As Arthur prepared two cups of tea, he had to pull out a second mug. A dark green one, simple and elegant. And even though most of the water in the kettle had evaporated, there was still just the perfect amount for two cups of Earl Grey tea.

"Oh, and Alfred?"

The blond looked away from his steaming mug that was resting on the counter as he waited for it to cool down enough to drink. "Hmm? What is it, Artie?"

Arthur took a sip of scalding tea, seemingly unaffected by the temperature. "Next time you want to ask someone out, don't do it by saying you're planning on asking someone else out."

"It worked with you, didn't it?" Alfred replied with a wink, laughing as Arthur narrowed his eyes in a mock glare.

"Why yes, I suppose it did."

Both males laughed, Alfred loudly and Arthur just giving a soft chuckle. "What part of you thought that was a good idea anyway?"

Alfred shrugged, the grin still on his face. "I dunno, man, it seemed like a good idea at the time."

Arthur stared, trying to figure out how Alfred had possibly ever thought that it would be a good idea to confess to the person you like by telling them that you needed advice asking out someone else. That seemed rather counterproductive.

"You're an idiot, Alfred." Arthur said with a teasing smile on his face, moving to the cabinet to get out a snack for the two of them.

"That's probably true, but you're the one going on a date with this idiot."

"Yeah, I am."

The Brit couldn't help but laugh at his own thoughts from the other night. Just to think, exactly a week ago he had been thinking that he and Alfred would never be together, that he'd never be the one for someone like Alfred, and he had been so utterly convinced that was true. But here he was, a week later, drinking tea in his kitchen with the boy he had had a crush on for over a year.

Wind blew in through the open window, and as he reached over to close it, Arthur noted how this wind was indeed very different than the wind he felt last week. This breeze was warmer, filled with the scent of cinnamon from the bakery down the street. It was comforting and familiar, like an old romance novel.

His heart was lighter than ever, and his cup of tea tasted better than it had in a long time. Things were finally looking up for him, and suddenly Arthur didn't mind the idea of cold autumn wind anymore, because he knew that Alfred would be there from now on to loan him that over-sized bomber jacket just like he had promised.

End