He had to admit it, he was a clumsy guy. Alfred Jones, sports fanatic and overly hyper American, seemed to always get himself hurt in one way or another. Sure, sometimes his injuries were from the occasional slip up during a football game, and no one could really mock him for that, but he also had the tendency to trip on his own feet, and this was one of those times.

He had been out with a few friends from his English class in college, and they had just got back from a night at the bar. The American hadn't consumed much alcohol, but he was still a bit tipsy. As they descended the stairs, Alfred swayed slightly from side to side. He suddenly began to feel dizzy. Losing his senses, he succeeded in looking like a total dumbass as he missed a step on the stairs (which was not that far from the bottom), hit his rear on a step, and then proceeded to faceplant into the floor, leaving him with a terrible headache and a bloody nose. His friends laughed at his clumsiness, with hiccups escaping their mouths. As drunk as he was, Alfred began to laugh, too, even though he had a feeling his nose might be broken.

The next morning wasn't much of a surprise. Alfred already had a terrible headache from his surprise visit with the floor, but he also had to deal with a lingering hangover. Once he finally woke up and walked towards the bathroom to brush his teeth (and probably puke, but not in that order, of course), he looked at himself in the mirror and noticed the gash on his nose. Ouch.

"Shit," Alfred winced as he looked over his injury. "That's not good...now I gotta go get it checked. Great! Exactly what I needed…" He thought to himself, sarcasm filling the words in his mind.

He wasn't a big fan of doctors, always poking at him and touching uncomfortable and awkward places on his body. His usual doctor was also not that attractive. He would've liked having something nice to look at, and it would've made him all the more willing to let the man inspect him. Sadly, his doctors were always 'old dudes with, like, four chins', as he would say, but at least he wouldn't have to hide an awkward boner any time soon.

Once he finished getting ready, he called the doctor's office to schedule an appointment. Surprisingly, the lady on the phone said he could come in today, but it would be a different doctor than the one he usually sees. Alfred quickly hopped into his car and made his way to the hospital.

"Please be hot, please be hot," He repeated in his mind.

The young blonde parked his car and briskly walked into the building. It seemed to be a slow day, seeing that there only a few people sitting in the waiting room.

"Alfred Jones?"

Alfred's head popped up when he heard his name being called. His eyes spotted the doctor leaning against the door that led to his office. He took a second to eye the man, and oh was he in for a treat. The doctor that was to be examining him was, dare Alfred say, the hottest man he'd ever seen. Ok, maybe not the hottest, but he definitely was something. A slim frame, hair only a few shades lighter than his own, and piercing green eyes that he could see even from where he was sitting.

Alfred licked his lips in anticipation and thought, "Damn...is it hot in here or is it just me?"

"...Well? Don't just sit there! Come in! I don't have all day," the new doctor stated, his irritated manner revealed.

"AND a British accent? Today must be my lucky day!" The American thought to himself, smirking. "Oh! Yeah...sorry," He apologized as he quickly stood up and walked towards his new doctor, now noting their difference in height. The Briton stiffly walked to a door at the end of the hallway, gesturing for Alfred to go in. The American did just that, sitting on the examination table in the left corner. The shorter man sat down at the computer situated on the other side of the small room.

He took a quick glance at Alfred's nose from across the room. The man scoffed, "Wow. How exactly did this happen?"

"Well...I was drunk and-"

"Thought so. Are you even old enough to drink?"

"Of course! I'm twenty-one!" Alfred pouted. How old did this guy think he was, anyway?

"Mr. Jones…." the man paused, "you're an idiot."

"Hey! I don't think you're supposed to talk to your patients that way…" Alfred's pout deepened.

"Just telling the truth. It was your own drunken idiocy that did this," he voiced.

"Well I….Oh just drop it!" Alfred expressed. "Anyways, I've never seen ya here before. Are ya new? What's your name? How old are ya?" the bubbly man continued to ask random questions.

The other man blinked, "Oh...Well yes, I am new here," He pointed to his name tag, "and my name is Arthur. Arthur Kirkland...and why would you need to know how old I am!?"

"Arthur...cute name! It's suits ya!" Alfred stated, noticing a slight blush creep onto Arthur's cheeks. "And I was just wonderin'! No need to get upset!"

Arthur paused for a moment, "Well, I am twenty-five years old…"

Alfred did a victory dance (in his head of course). Arthur wasn't all that older than him! There was only a four year difference!

"Well, it's not broken, but take it easy for a few days. You're going to have a headache for quite a bit," the Briton interrupted Alfred's thoughts.

The American blinked, "Oh! Great! That's good to hear…" He averted his eyes from the other man.

The doctor stood up, walking towards the other man, "Hopefully this won't happen again." His hand patted Alfred's shoulder, which made the other blonde flinch at the contact, "Just be more careful next time, Mr. Jones."

"Call me Alfred! Mr. Jones is way too formal," the taller of the two answered.

"Well, goodbye...Alfred," Arthur said, walking out of the office, leaving the other alone.

"Well shit," Alfred said to himself. "I'm gonna see you again, even if I have to hurt myself some more."

….And that's exactly what he planned to do.

Alfred had started to get small injuries just so he could see Arthur Kirkland, the newest (and hottest) doctor. His plan was going smoothly. At every appointment, he'd take the time to get to know the Brit, and, dare he say, he was already in love.

Apparently, Arthur had moved to New York from London for the job at the hospital. He was stubborn and cranky, but also kind and gentle when it came to his job. Alfred had learned about his likes and dislikes, his favorite type of tea, and many other miniscule facts about the man. There was one thing Alfred wasn't sure of, though.

He had no idea if Arthur was gay or not.

Well, he'd just have to cross his fingers and hope for the best.

"You seem to be getting hurt quite a lot lately…," Arthur pointed out while he examined a bruise Alfred had gotten on his ribcage when he supposedly got hit in the chest by a football.

"Oh, well I….I guess I'm just getting clumsier by the day! Hahaha…," the American chuckled nervously, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

The Briton looked Alfred in the eyes and said, "It's odd. You've had to come in almost every day, and it's always for something new."

"Coincidence I guess…?" the younger blonde answered.

The doctor scoffed, "Doesn't seem like it…"

"Oh crap. Did he figure me out!?" Alfred panicked to himself.

Arthur interrupted Alfred's thoughts, "Well, I guess it could be that." Alfred sighed in relief. "Your ribs seem fine. Nothing's broken, thankfully. All there is is a pretty bad bruise."

Alfred laughed nervously, "Good! Great! Wouldn't want broken bones, that's for sure…!"

"Yes, that would be bad," Arthur answered. "Well, looks like we're done here, Alfred. Try not to get hurt as much anymore, eh?"

"Will do, doc!" Alfred saluted as the other blonde walked out of the office. Damn...Alfred really wasn't getting anywhere. He couldn't just ask him out all of a sudden, could he? I mean, he didn't even know if Arthur swung that way! Ugh, this was getting complicated, but Alfred wasn't about to give up.

Alfred woke up to the sound of his alarm clock. Yes, he actually owned an alarm clock. shocking, I know. There was a reason for his sudden usage of it, though.

This was it. This was the day he'd finally ask Arthur out. This time, he was going to the doctor's because he 'felt ill and he wanted to make sure it wasn't a virus.' He decided he really didn't want to injure himself again. He got out of bed, feeling confident.

"This is totally gonna work right? I mean, how could he say no?" Alfred thought. "Well, unless he doesn't like guys….but I've gotta try!"

He put on a decent looking outfit (not too formal though. He was just going to the see doctor, after all), and hopped into the car. He turned on the radio, and sang along to an annoying pop song the entire ride there. Once found a space in the parking lot and parked his car, he casually walked into the waiting room. For some reason, fifteen minutes seemed like forever.

Soon enough, Arthur called out his name, "Alfred Jones…?"

Alfred jumped up from his seat and made his way to Arthur's office. Taking a seat, he noticed his palms had begun to sweat, and his heart was beating so fast, he could swear it was about to burst out of his chest. "So...what is it this time?" the Brit asked.

"Oh, well, I don't really feel well and I-"

"Ok. Enough of this," Arthur interrupted. He looked Alfred straight in the eyes. "Why are you really here? This can't be just coincidence!"

Alfred fidgeted on the examination table, his eyes refusing to meet Arthur's, "I...uh…" His cheeks began to heat up, and Arthur definitely noticed.

"...I see," the doctor sighed. "Though I don't understand why couldn't have just asked me out to begin with."

"Wait...what!?" Alfred's eyes shot up. "How did you-"

"Oh come on! It was obvious! I mean, it was kind of unnecessary to keep injuring yourself just to see me, but I gotta admit, it was pretty sweet of you," Arthur laughed.

Wow. Arthur had figured him out. Yet, he didn't seem disgusted, so maybe he-

"Well, are you going to ask me out or not?" the Briton sighed.

"...What?" Alfred asked. Did Arthur just say he wanted to be asked out?

"Are you or aren't you? I don't have all day," Arthur laughed.

"Uh…." Alfred was speechless.

Arthur shook his head, "Fine. Since you're too embarrassed to say anything," he went to his desk and picked up a blank sheet of paper. He began to write something on it. "Here." He handed it to Alfred.

"...What's this?" the American asked, looking down at the paper.

"My number. Feel free to give me a call and we can schedule something," Arthur answered, smiling.

Alfred answered, "S-sure! Of course!"

Arthur smirked, "See you soon, Alfred." He walked out of his office, and Alfred left right after.

Alfred got into his car. Sitting in the driver's seat, he looked at Arthur's number. He wondered if he'd answer if he called him right now. Well, might as well try!

He punched in the numbers Arthur had written down, and waited for a familiar voice to pick up.

"Hello?" Arthur's voice said through the phone.

"H-hey! How about...dinner at my place tonight?" Alfred asked.

"That sounds lovely," the Briton answered.

Alfred sighed in relief. He actually got a date with Arthur Kirkland, and it would be the first of many.

Apples would definitely not keep the doctor away anymore.