Fiona (blood_winged) wrote in usxuk,

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The Space Between [1/7]

Title: The Space Between
Genre: Romance/Drama/Humour
Pairing/s/Characters: (in this chapter) USxUK (main)
Rating/Warnings: Eventual NC-17/R. This chapter, PG-13 for Alfred's mouth. Jealous!Alfred.
: Alfred is forced to realise his deeper feelings for Arthur when he finds himself jealous over his lover spending time with Adelgonde Peeters (Belgium - named by me for the sake of the fic). His subsequent 'investigation' puts his entire relationship in danger, and it falls to him to search inside himself and discover what it really means to be in love. ( A/N: First multi-chapter Hetalia fic! And also my tenth Hetalia fic =D I also suck at summaries. orz )

~ The spaces between your fingers were created so that another's could fill them in. ~


*ring ring*

Alfred chewed his lower lip, tapping his nails against the telephone receiver. It was pressed hard enough to his head that it might go right through should he add a fraction more pressure.

*ring ring*

He felt like he’d been stood there for hours. England never usually let the phone ring for this long. Twisting the phone cord around one finger he tapped his foot on the polished wooden floor, skirting around full-out panic.

*ring ri- click*

“-never would have done it without him. Haha, I know, I know. Hello, this is Arthur Kirkland, who’s speaking please?”

For a moment, Alfred stood in stunned silence. Arthur’s voice... he sounded so happy. He was laughing. He was laughing and Alfred wasn’t the one making him laugh.


“Ah...” The American found himself at a loss for words. He was sure that when he had picked up the phone it had been for a reason, but he’d be damned if he could remember it now.

“Oh, Alfred, it’s you.”
‘It’s you’? What the hell was that? Arthur’s voice became fainter, as if he was holding his hand over the receiver, but Alfred could make out what he was saying, and the female voice laughing in the background. “No, don’t worry Adel. It’s just Alfred. Hm? Oh, yes, of course.”


“You still there, Alfred?”


“Adelgonde sends her best wishes. I’d love to chat to you, Alfred, but I have company. You understand, don’t you?”

“Uh... I guess so, but-”

“Smashing. I have to go, Alfred! Ta!”


He stood holding the receiver in his hand for well over a minute, simply staring at it with wide blue eyes as his mind tried to comprehend what had just happened. Belgium. England was with Belgium? Alfred knew that they’d been close since the war, but he’d never known Arthur to invite her to his home, and he had certainly never known Arthur to hang up on him because someone else was there.

“Belgium?!” He spat the word out like a curse, slamming the receiver down onto the cradle in a fit of childish temper. Running one hand into his hair he gripped hard and tugged, using the sharp pain to focus himself. Drawing in a deep breath, he slid his glasses back on. Now was not the time to be getting wound up just because Arthur had a house guest. Arthur often had house guests. He wasn’t sure what it was about it being Belgium that had bothered him so much... Perhaps because he didn’t know her all that well, or the way that Arthur had so brusquely put the phone down...

“I’m not jealous,” he said to no one in particular, sighing and sagging back against the wall. Glancing at the phone, he frowned, picked up the receiver, and then put it back down. He bit his lip. His hands were shaking. He stuffed them into his pockets and slapped himself mentally. Why was he even worried? He didn’t need to ask himself that question... Arthur and Adelgonde... it didn’t mean anything. They’d been friends since the Second World War... Maybe she had been to Arthur’s home before now, and Alfred simply hadn’t been aware of it.

Somehow, that thought didn’t help.

Later, in the shower, Alfred still couldn’t get Arthur out of his mind. With the water pounding against the top of his head he leaned against the cool tiles, shutting his eyes against the water running through his hair and down the sides of his face. He didn’t realise that he was holding his breath until he was forced to let it out in a harsh gasp. Blinking, he stepped back, shutting off the water, though it was some time before he finally stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist.

His watch read eleven-fifteen as he wandered down the hall. He paused by the phone, then picked it up and dialled, only remembering the time difference when a tired, slightly annoyed voice was heard from the other end.

“This had better be good.”

“... Hey, Arthur, it’s me.” He couldn’t keep the uncertainty out of his reply and to his surprise Arthur’s tone softened, and he heard the older male shifting, settling the telephone beside his ear.

“What is it, Alfred? Is something wrong?”

“No, I...” Hell, why was it so difficult? “I... I missed speaking to you today.”

Arthur was quiet for a short time, though the seconds stretched to hours in Alfred’s mind as he stood in the hallway. Droplets of water from his still-damp hair escaped and ran down his back, and he shuddered, snapped out of his near-daze by Arthur’s sleepy voice.

“Missed me? Oh, Alfred...” He could hear the smile on Arthur’s lips and suddenly wondered what he had been so concerned about. “I’ve missed you too. But, Alfred, it’s God-damn-past-hell in the morning... and I want to take Adel out tomorrow. She wants to see Big Ben.”


“I’ll call you tomorrow, Alfred... Alright?” He paused to yawn. “I love you.”

“Do you,” Alfred murmured.

“Of course I do. More than anything.” Arthur’s voice became a little stronger, and it was clear that he had finally noticed Alfred’s mood. “Alfred, are you well? You don't usually sound so-”

“I’m fine, Arthur.” He pushed one hand through his damp hair as he cut Arthur off. Didn’t usually sound so... unsure? Needy? No doubt he sounded a little frazzled. Arthur had been on his mind all day as his imagination concocted ever more scenarios in which the man was somehow cheating on him. All of them were dismissed but they were becoming harder to ignore, just niggling at him and it was hard not to just go over there. He didn’t understand it. This wasn’t like him at all... He was many things, a lot of them negative, but he wasn’t possessive.

“Mm... That’s good. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Alfred put the phone down before he could hear Arthur hang up. He chewed his thumbnail absently, hitching up one side of the towel as he made his way up the stairs to his bedroom. It was early for him to be turning in but he didn’t think that even video games could distract him right now.

He lay in bed and thought of Arthur. Not in the usual way he would think of Arthur. He could see Arthur’s face, his eyes, and the tiny smiles cast his way that meant more than any broad grins that he shot at anyone else. The way he would trail his hand gently over Alfred’s back as he passed him at a meeting, or how he would lean over his shoulder when he handed him a file, lingering just a little longer than could be deemed proper as he explained the contents in that low, calm voice of his. He remembered the first time he had kissed Arthur. The man had gone so red that Alfred had thought he’d burst a blood vessel, then he’d looked up with those gorgeous green eyes and whispered in a shaky voice ‘I thought you’d never get around to it’.

Well... it had been difficult back then to get Arthur on his own for five minutes without his making some comment on Alfred’s idiocy, which always succeeded in destroying the mood.

Alfred sighed and rolled over, resting his hand on the spot where Arthur slept when he came to stay. Recently he’d been thinking about Arthur a lot, when he wasn’t around. Keeping their relationship a private matter was bound to start becoming more difficult (in fact he wasn’t sure how they’d managed for so long already)... and Alfred didn’t care. He’d tell everybody if he could, but his English Rose wanted to keep it a secret. That was exciting in its own way, but...

He wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t. He wasn’t jealous that Adelgonde was seeing Arthur, and he wasn’t. He wasn’t jealous that Adelgonde was making Arthur laugh, and he wasn’t. He wasn’t jealous that Adelgonde was probably tasting Arthur’s awful cooking and lying about liking it, and he wasn’t...


Alfred put his hands over his face and groaned. Jealousy was not a pleasant feeling.

Chapter Two |>
Tags: fanfiction
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