Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

Alfred cracked one eye open and looked at his alarm, not wanting to get up. They needed to move practice later into the day. Groaning, he pulled the covers over his head, trying to shut the sound out. The American felt rustling next to him and heard the sound flip off with a click.

"Alfred," Arthur murmured, trying to pull the covers down but finding the professional baseball player had a strong grip on the blanket.

"I don't wanna get up," the American whined, causing Arthur to roll his eyes; it seemed like the Brit had to go through this every single day. "Let me sleep in for once!"

"You have practice today," the Brit argued, but Alfred still refused to move. Every time Alfred was late to practice his coach made him stay later and in some cases pay a fine for being late. Arthur bit his lip before continuing.

"I'll cook breakfast for you," he smirked as the American had sprung out of bed and immediately started shedding his clothes in place for his jersey; a Yankees jersey with the name 'Jones' printed on the back above a large number fifty. It had been in the first week of living together that Alfred discovered the truth behind Arthur's cooking skills, and why his mother never let him in the kitchen when they were still teenagers. Ever since then, it had been the Brit's main strategy for getting Alfred to stop being lazy.

"I'm going, I'm going," he grumbled as he slipped his pants boxers off and slipped on a new set. Arthur smiled and closed his eyes, knowing he wouldn't have to get up for work for another hour or two; the greatest part about being an author was you get to make your own hours.

The Brit listened to the sounds of Alfred getting ready, to him sipping coffee in their dining room. Soon here Al would have to leave to practice and leave Arthur alone in their condo. He'd get back at five or six and insist that he played on his laptop for another five hours before sleeping. Arthur, in the meantime, would wake up when he was ready and get himself some tea before writing several pages on his new book.

The Englishman was about to fall back to sleep when he felt a warm set of arms wrap around the blanket covering his body. He opened up one of his emerald eyes and saw Alfred leaning over him, grinning, before catching the boy's lips in a small kiss.

Arthur kissed back happily, pulling one arm out of the blanket to wrap it around the American's neck and pull him closer. Alfred nipped his lip lightly before pulling away, smiling at his lover.

"I'll see you when I get home, you arrogant little British dude," he grinned, but Arthur scoffed.

"I'm not little and I'm not arrogant," he grumbled; but he heard the sound of Alfred shutting their bedroom door softly. Arthur listened to the boy's footsteps as he walked out of the condo, leaving the boy alone in the apartment.

He'd be back tonight, though.

That's it, broskis! Thank you all for reading this, if you read it this far. Nothing makes me happier than knowing people enjoy reading my stories just as much as I like to write them. I've got a small muse going for my next story; but I believe I'll be writing a new one sooner or later. Thank you to all of you who reviewed! You don't know how much your reviews keep me going, really. Finally, review for the last time on this story, guys. It's now complete *tears in my eyes* This thing is about 70 pages long my word document O_o so much typing... but it was worth it. Again, thank you all for reading. Hasta la pasta~!

-BunnyOfMint