Summary: In a desperate attempt to escape his monotonous life, the bored God decides to look for a bride in the human world. However what if the lucky 'bride' turns out much fiercer, taller, physically stronger, even more dominating than he could ever imagine, and well-not quite-female? USxUK AU Godly!Arthur

Rating: M for language and suggestive themes.

Main Pairing: USxUK

Side pairings: GiriPan, RoChu, Franada, GermanyxItaly, SpainxRomano, and others.

Ares-Arthur/England

Heracles/Hercules-Heracles/Greece

Zeus-Francis/France

Apollo-Vash/Switzerland

Artemis-Lili/Liechtenstein

Athena-Elizabeth/Hungary

Dionysus-Feliciano/N. Italy

Demeter-Katja/Ukraine

Poseidon-Ivan/Russia

Hermes-Lovino/S. Italy

Hephaestus-Berwald/Sweden

Hestia-Natalia/Belarus

Hades-Lukas/Norway

the others are to be announced. The characters will often be called by their Greek God names, so I will post both every published chapter to prevent confusion.

American Wife

Chapter One: Bounded

"This is crazy"

The blonde man in a neatly ironed Armani suit rolled his eyes. He'd heard those grunted words from the unusually talkative Grecian a thousand times already and it was getting old. He silently ignored him, adjusting his crooked tie. He looked at the 5 foot mirror by the closet, taking in the sight of a handsome blonde in obviously expensive attire. The suit he wore was in the wonderful color of indigo with a light blue dress shirt underneath and a silk tie in blue and white stripes. His brilliant blonde hair was perfectly combed and he wore a pair of Italian leather shoes, a golden pin slipped in between the tie and the shirt to hold his tie firm and tidy. He looked mighty fine, he thought, smiling to himself.

No woman would be able to resist such an attractive and godly man. Well he was, he thought, chuckling softly.

Another muffled grunt reached his ears.

He sighed in exasperation. Now he was a bit pissed, his good mood was being spoiled by the ever present grunts of the other man and he knew his mood would be spoiled further, if he decided to ignore the young man again.

"It's alright, Heracles." He repeated again, for the Zeus knew how many times. Heracles was boring him out of his wits and even if he wasn't, he would still be bored of his immortally repeated, perpetual days. He had no idea how a son of Zeus could turn out to be such a wimp, unlike his pervert of a father. The other God practically had no sense of decency when it came to womanizing.

"But this is crazy, Ares," Heracles insisted, hugging his knees in the corner of the other man's bedroom. "Father will not be pleased with this."

"Our father is the symbolism of infidelity. You are a product of one of his erotic escapades. Do you think he'll care, really?" The man called Ares rolled his eyes again.

"And Heracles, don't forget. It's Arthur. Arthur Kirkland. Use that name while we are in the human world." He sent an annoyed warning glare to the other man, his hands busied themselves with a platinum Swiss watch.

Heracles didn't look convinced.

"I don't know about this," he muttered, bringing his knees closer to his chest. "I mean, if you just want to play around, there are plenty of nymphs back home. They're more than glad to accompany you."

"That's what you thought, horny brat." Arthur gave him a cynical smirk, earning a flushed face from the other. He turned back to face his reflection once more. He decided his tie was a little too far to the right.

"Anyways, I'm bored with things on Olympus. Unlike the old times, nothing really happens nowadays and it's dulling my nerves. I need something new to excite me." He tugged at the sleeves, preventing wrinkles.

"…and for that, the human world?" Heracles inquired. The blonde smiled.

"Yes."

"I don't understand."

"You don't have to."

Heracles stared at his own toes with his lips tugged down, fingering the thumb idly. "…isn't it unfair for the lady?"

The violent God stilled. Turning his body around to face the young hero, he furrowed his generously lush eyebrows and frowned. The younger man was still playing with his fingers idly, long dark bangs hid his face. Ares cursed wordlessly, he had only just remembered the other man's age. Heracles was still relatively young compared to most Gods, and he was a half. His human mother was one of Zeus' many one night stands and for that one night she and Heracles had to suffer the wrath of Zeus' jealous wife, Hera. Heracles was raised in the human world as an ordinary man and he had just recently been accepted into Olympus a few hundred years ago. He would surely loathe the things his father did and what Arthur was about to do. Personally, Arthur didn't have anything against him or his mother.

"It's unfair, alright," Ares admitted, his eyes softening when Heracles turned and looked at him with wide eyes. He took a deep breath, emerald eyes hardening. "But it's the way Gods are. It's the way we live."

Heracles quirked an eyebrow. "I still don't get it."

"When you become more mature, perhaps you will." The other man shrugged.

"Why can't they just get married, if they love them?" Heracles inquired with a certain amount of innocence in his tone of voice.

Ares looked surprised at the naivety of his question. He instantaneously stopped his hands that were busy with his tie and glanced at the younger God who was still looking at him with honest curiosity in his eyes. Arthur clearly hadn't expected such a question to be asked.

"Love?" He choked out the word, feeling both amused and confused. Then he coughed briefly, a smile rose on the corners of his lips.

"Now, Heracles, you seem to be misunderstanding some things. We do not fall in love with mortals. We are simply attracted to them. In other words, we only want to screw them and maybe have a kid or two. That doesn't mean we hold long-term affection for them. And besides," His smile fell unknowingly as the violent God continued. "We are Gods. We are immortal. We can't be going around marrying human lasses, when in the next fifty years we'd still be young and beaming while them, ugly hags."

Heracles was silent.

Arthur sighed, two digits pressed against his aching temples. "Okay, you know what? It's about time I left. I probably should be going soon, whether you want to come with me or go back to Olympus, either way's fine. But I don't want to discuss this again."

Heracles didn't reply immediately and he was quiet for a few seconds before he muttered softly but loud enough to reach Arthur's ears. "…I'll stay."

"Fine." Arthur shrugged his shoulders.

Ares couldn't help think that Heracles was being too naive and unreasonable. Though he could understand that his curiosity came from the mortal that reigned over half of his body. But what could he do, really? In the good old days when violence ruled, wars and battles were where he was truly at home. He was a violent, blood-thirsty God who loved slaughters and bloodshed. In the olden days, as a youth he had mingled with the barbarous Thracians, had a love affair with the most beautiful Goddess, Aphrodite, and he had gone to wars with his children and attendants. Those times were priceless and were like heaven to him. His golden time. Now, they were nothing but triumphant memories of the past, as old and decayed as he was. Back then he was the infamous Ares, God of Warfare and Bloodlust, a youth beaming with vigor and strength, and now he was just… just…

Tired.

Yes. Now he just felt tired. He felt old and bored. Nowadays people rarely came to worship him, only a few still believed in his and his siblings and parents' existence. There wasn't any excitement now that the numbers of wars had reduced significantly over the decades as the new 'peaceful' modern era overtook the old violent one. Yes, there were still disputes here and there, but none piqued his barbarous instinct as the world had developed more-or-less-cowardly, so called modern weapons named guns and rocket launchers and nuclear bombs and had forsaken spears, swords, and axes. And the way they battled just threw him off. There were hardly any class to their tactics, they were simply dirty and cowardly. There was no fun in watching, he'd thought even less about joining in.

Even he was slightly taken aback by how docile a man he had become. Now he had almost no interest in warfare. Peace had done the utmost worst to him. From a barbarous, violent delinquent, he became a cool-headed man with etiquette and gentle mannerisms though he still had ways with rough language. He had taken quite a liking towards one country in particular where he learned his perfect gentlemanly etiquette, mannerisms, and language. Out of absolute boredom, he had left Olympus for the human world, seeking something that could excite him, something that could bring back his youthful vigor and triumph. He started to learn how to live like a human, their language and lifestyle, literature, and even fashion. And now there was another thing on his mind that could give him some excitement.

Sex.

Since ancient times the Grecian Gods had sought countless of love affairs with both fellow Gods and humans. Zeus, the king of the Gods, had countless secret lovers, one-nights stands, and many demi-God children were conceived from his erotic escapades. And it wasn't just him. The other Gods mimicked his actions and mingled with human men or women, and many more half-blooded children and heroes were born. But of course, that was just for the sake of pleasure and enjoyment, nothing more. Just a means to escape the boredom.

Ares himself had mingled with human women several times for the same reason. But no one had really caught his attention and he was quick to forget their names and faces. Nevertheless this was the only thing he knew that could fill the holes created by monotonous boredom and repetitive emptiness. The world had changed, yes, but the changes weren't so bad that it made him tired of watching the humans' creative lifestyles. But he needed something that could rouse his spirit, even if he was reduced to a mortal's means of seeking pleasure.

And now here he was, perfectly groomed from head to toe, standing before a club's entrance door.

He entered and immediately the noise reached his ears, the annoying noise they called music. Odd. He thought music was supposed to be soothing, not baffling or ear-splitting. He would never understand this part of human culture. There were people dancing, drinking, chatting, and eating, as always. He took in the sight of an empty seat at the bar counter, then sauntered his way towards it, crossing the dimly lighted room and avoiding a herd of dancing people. As soon as he was about to reach the seat, another hand grabbed the back of the bar stool.

Arthur's emerald eyes trailed up the strong, toned arm until he met bright azure orbs.

A tall, well-built man with rather messy honey-colored blonde hair was the owner of that hand. He was also looking at him. Seconds passed and he hadn't moved an inch from the edge of Arthur's rightful seat. Arthur furrowed his eyebrows and glared, finally the man grabbed the meaning behind his scowl and let a charming smile form on his lips as he withdrew his hand, smiling all the while.

"Sorry, thought no one owned it," he uttered in what Arthur recognized as an American accent, yet he didn't sound all that apologetic.

"Technically, I don't own the seat. I'm not the owner of this club," Arthur said, crossing his arms.

"Oh really?" The taller blonde gestured, his eyes went up and down Arthur's body as if assessing. A strange glint shone within the light shade of blue.

Strangely, it didn't bother him all that much. "Yes, but I saw it first. I have the right to sit on it," he said, ignoring the taller blonde. He went to the seat and hovered over, settling himself comfortably.

The blonde foreigner chuckled and wordlessly hopped on an empty seat next to Arthur's, eying him with a wide grin on his face. "You're a funny one. Care for a drink?" he asked. Before the disguised god could answer, he already had a hand up and ordered a martini and a beer. Arthur threw a questioning glare at him and all he said was, "My treat."

But it didn't erase the frown on Arthur's face. "I can pay for my drinks."

"I wanna buy a drink for a new friend, is that so bad?" he answered at the same time the bartender brought them his order. A glass of martini for Arthur and a glass of beer for the blonde.

"Friend?" Arthur almost choked on the word.

"I'm Alfred. Alfred F. Jones." The blonde introduced himself. When Arthur didn't reply after seconds passed, the blonde stranger finally asked. "What's your name?"

The corner of Arthur's lips twitched. "…Arthur. Arthur Kirkland." He finally uttered, in low monotone.

"So, Arthur," The man named Alfred put his elbow onto the counter, a hand supported his head as he laid his right cheek on the palm, eyes looking intently at the quieter of the two.

"Where're ya from?"

Arthur rose an eyebrow. He felt slightly strange. This mortal man was being too friendly with him, was he actually hitting on him? Hitting on Ares, the God of War? Oh, if only he knew who he really was, he wouldn't dare to-

"London. I'm from London." Arthur answered, sipping on his Martini casually.

He wasn't going to falter from such a thing, he thought. If this young man was interested in him in that way, he would let him try. If he had still been the violent God of War of the past, he would have severed the man's head from his shoulders for having treated him in such a way. But now he just felt… intrigued. He had never been interested in same-sex or homosexual relationships like the other Gods, but now that new things were scarce, he was beginning to feel curious. Only a slight curiosity, but it was there. He was interested in how the man would try to woo him into bed. He wondered how two men would do it. But then again, his Godly pride wouldn't allow him to sink that low.

But still, he was intrigued.

"So what're you into, Arty?" asked the blonde after their fourth glass.

"…a lot of things, like wars and histories." Arthur had begun to feel a bit light-headed, the whiskey appeared to have taken affect even though he was still sober. Alfred was fine because he had only drank beer so far. "I love the Spartans, great fighters, I tell you… Brute strength, firm beliefs, courageous… They were true heroes. And…" He excused himself when a hiccup made its way out of his mouth.

"I'm… especially interested in…Greek Gods."

"Greek Gods?" Alfred raised a brow. "You don't look like the type."

"It doesn't have anything to do with types, you prat… if Zeus heard you, he'd make a roast out of your arse-don't laugh, you damn brat, I'll really tell him to go roast your sorry arse." He retorted when Alfred laughed.

"Sure, Arty." He said, still chuckling. Ares scowled, swallowing the last drops of his third glass of whiskey. He vision began to wane and he began seeing blurs rather than solid images. He shut his eyes and shook his head, blinking several times. Surely he wasn't drunk…? He could hold even Dionysus's wines, surely he could tolerate a few glasses of the mortal liquor.

"But I heard Greek Gods're a bunch of cheaters and Zeus' the biggest cheater who, what? ten-timed his wife? Doesn't he love his wife at all?" Alfred asked jokingly, rubbing soothingly on the drunken man's back.

Arthur hiccupped, moaning softly at the comfortable massage Alfred was giving him. "O' course… Zeus loves mother… He loves mother, but mother's just…" He hiccupped again.

Had he not been staring at the counter table, he would see the intrigued glint in Alfred's eyes. "Hmm, what 'bout yer mom?" He asked, slipping a hand around the smaller blonde's waist. He pulled Arthur's body closer for him to lean on, his head laid on his muscular shoulder. He breathed in the fragrance in the short blonde tresses.

The personified God of War grunted, his head feeling dizzy. He saw blurs and his mind felt as if it was swimming in the air, circling and circling. "Mother… is too prideful… as are the others… pride ruins each one of them… their feelings… love…"

"Really? Even when they're married? Don't they look for human girls to marry?" Alfred brushed the bangs off Arthur's face, he tilted his head to him. Then he asked teasingly, "Don't you?"

Arthur's jade eyes were hazy and out of focus. "I do…" He slurred, unaware of the decreasing gap between his and Alfred's face. "In truth… I'm looking… for that person. One who… will make me fall madly in love… Like Zeus… to mother."

Smoldering blue eyes shone in lust and fondness. "Then, can't I be the one, Arthur? Can't I be that person?"

"What the fuck… are you talking about… I'm talking about… a bride. You're… a man." Arthur shook his head, staring lazily at the man in front of him. But Alfred's eyes didn't lose its shine.

"Then I'll be your bride." He said jokingly, arms sneaking behind the smaller stature of the blonde to embrace him closer. "I'd be a wonderful bride, don't you think?"

A listless, yet amused smile rose on Arthur's lips. "Idiot."

"So how're we gonna get married? Do Olympus Gods have certain complicated tradition to marry a human like me?" Alfred chuckled when Arthur face looked thoughtful, his lips pursed slightly into an adorable pout.

"…not so complicated." Arthur finally said, in a slurred manner, bringing a hand to Alfred's cheek. "Me, as the Godly groom must say… 'I shall share my immortal life with my beloved, forever we shall be bound'… and you… 'I shall accept this offer of marriage, 'till the end of the world we shall be bound'… and then we kiss and consummate the marriage…"

"Well, that's pretty easy." The American nodded.

"And…" Arthur continued, feeling listless. He dropped his head from Alfred's shoulder to his broad chest. "Rather than wedding rings… A holy emblem will appear… somewhere on each of our bodies… mm- I can't remember where." He furrowed his brows, trying to think but his head hazing.

Alfred smiled, cuddling the drunken man in his arms. He tilted his chin gently to look him in the eyes. "Are ya sleepy, Arty?" He asked.

"A bit." The older man hiccupped again.

"Then shall we go somewhere more… pleasant to consummate our marriage?" He whispered huskily.

"What are you-Mmm."

After that was an incorrigible blur of memories. Ares hadn't know human whiskey could beat Dionysus's wines. A few glasses was all it took to take his consciousness away, drowning his mind in a kaleidoscopic blurs of colors. It felt like his body was light, like he was being lifted into the air in Hermes's winged sandals. And then suddenly he felt like he was being thrown into the clouds, it was so soft and gentle. But then he could feel his cold skin was being showered by small bits of hotness that soon grew too big for his body to handle. He grunted and moaned, the growing hotness was painfully arousing. And he heard chuckles, heard his human name being said. A dark silhouette hovered over him and whispered hot breaths into his ears, he couldn't register them very well, since his head hurt so badly.

He tossed his head and he could hear himself moaning non-stop, asking for more. Why the bloody hell he was doing that, he had no idea. Ares only felt the heat scorching him in the lower part of his body and he just wanted release. But then there was a wave of sheer pain like he was being torn in two and he felt droplets of tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Was he crying? The pain was far greater than anything he had ever experienced before, it defeated the pain of being stabbed through the chest with a spear. He hadn't even shed a tear for that and yet he could hear himself sobbing.

"Sorry," He heard a grunted apology, hot pants filling the room. Ares opened his eyes and saw sandy gold.

Something soft was placed on his forehead. "Sorry," The voice repeated.

A blur of hotness, of pain and pleasure soon filled him to the brim. And Ares found himself twisting and panting, sweating and grunting. The hotness he was drowning in was overwhelming and he was soon lost in an abyss of delirious pleasure. He was being pushed over the edge by a relentless force. He flailed his arms in a desperate attempt to hold on and he settled on firm, hard flesh. He arched his back, feeling very close to completion, feeling a dangerous excitement and a rejuvenating force growing inside of him.

"Arthur, say it," the voice above him panted. "Say you'll spend your immortal life with me."

What did he say…?

Arthur couldn't think in this state of mind. His body and mind felt unbelievably hot and hazy. He couldn't think straight. He just wanted to be released, out of this searing heat. "…I shall… share my-ah!" He groaned out when he felt a force on his lower body. "-Immortal life with-nngh-my beloved… forever we… shall be bound." He uttered the words in between pants.

He heard a satisfied pant, his blurred vision caught sight of a grin. "I shall accept-ugh-this offer…of marriage, 'till the end of the world we shall be... bound."

And a pair of lips covered his own.

At the same time as his completion, his mind became clearer and he snapped his eyes wide in horror of what had happened.

TBC

A/N: This is the revised version of chapter one. Thanks to Wednesday1990 who talked some sense into my stubborn head of how important a beta was and I asked her to beta my story, and she also repaired the whichever mistakes I made since I have never been in America :D Thanks, darling!