A Gift For: @multi-fandom-obsessor for the UsUk Summer Festival Exchange 2016 made by @usuknetwork
Prompt: Alfred tries to make Arthur a nice dinner, but something goes terribly wrong and they have to order take-out instead.
Summary: Fearing that his boyfriend is feeling homesick, Alfred plans making a traditional English dinner to help Arthur feel a bit more at home. Though Alfred’s overconfidence in his abilities soon become his downfall.
Pairing: UsUk
Rating: General/Teen (for mild swearing)
((Happy summer! I’m sorry that your gift has come so late in the festival but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! This was really fun to write and lets both hope Alfred learns to never fly too close to the sun again, haha. ^_^))
“Yeah, yeah, Mattie. I got it all covered.” Alfred’s tone might have sounded unquestionably confident but the American’s twin brother knew well enough to know when the other was way in over his head. “Are you sure?” The older twin asked, clearly skeptical of his brother’s ability. “I’m not saying your bad but…cooking really your forte.” Sure, the American could handle the basics most others could; using the microwave, boiling water, heating up canned soup. But, this wasn’t one of those situations. “If you want, I could come and lend a hand. I’ll be sure to split before Arthur even--.” Matthew’s offer was cut off by the ever certain voice of his brother on the other end of the phone, the Canadian letting out a defeated sigh as he was only further assured by Alfred that he could handle everything. “Alright. Just…be careful, okay? I don’t want to be paying a visit to the burn unit in the morning.”
Alfred scoffed. “Come on, bro. Nothing like that’s gonna happen! You’re worrying over nothing!” With his drive to see the face of his lover light up, and the confidence of a pro, there wasn’t anything that was going to keep Alfred from making his dinner. No matter what Matthew said, no matter how difficult the recipe, there was no way he could fail. Alfred truly was a modern day Icarus if there ever was one. “I’ll text you in the morning, okay?” A sure of himself as he was, Alfred knew he wasn’t going to be able to get much of anything done while talking on the phone with his brother and after receiving a few more warnings from his twin, the called ended and Alfred got down to business.
At first, things were going pretty smoothly. Seeing as his boyfriend was born and raised in Kent, Alfred had spent nearly hours on google looking up all different types of English food. Some of it didn’t look all that appetizing, actually, a lot didn’t look that great, but Alfred managed to find a few good looking things here and there and eventually he had planned the perfect dinner. Cauliflower and cheese casserole, Toad in the hole (which Alfred came to figure out isn’t at all make of what it sounds like), Pease Pudding (Also not what it sounds like) and for dessert; pound cake. Okay, well…store bought pound cake. Alfred could only handle cooking so many things at once after all. However…what he planned out seemed to be far more than he could properly handle.
The Toad in the hole was the first thing to go wrong. Alfred had been so focused on chopping up Cauliflower for the casserole that he may have forgotten that he had sausages cooking on the stove. In fact the only thing that reminded him that he had something cooking on the stove was the smell of smoke. Cursing, Alfred hurried to shut off the stove, coming to find the sausages black and burned. It was okay though...even with this minor mishap Alfred was sure he could still make a meal that would really knock Arthur’s socks off. He thought the same when the discarded toad in the hole stopped up the kitchen drain as Alfred discarded it. His hope still remained when, after taking an unscheduled Pokémon GO break he returned to the kitchen to find the pot of Pease Pudding boiling over, spattering all over, not only the stove top but the floor as well. As all his plans fell around him, Alfred still tried to salvage what was left of his romantic gesture, but it was a fruitless effort in the end. The American was so wrapped up and overwhelmed with what was happening around him that he wasn’t even aware of how soon his lover would be returning.
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Smoke. The very first thing Arthur was hit with when he stepped into the apartment was the smell of smoke. Not enough to set off the fire alarm, obviously, but just enough to give the Englishmen cause for concern. “Alfred?” Calling the American’s name as he set his things down Arthur cautiously stepped further into the apartment, the eventual sight of smoke coming from the kitchen causing the blonde to let out a deep, huff of a sigh. What had that idiot done this time? “Alfred, what’s going on? Did the microwave break again?” By break, he meant fry by the actions of his hollow headed boyfriend. The kitchen never really was the best place for Alfred to be and Arthur knew that better than anyone. It’s not that the American was incompetent when it came to cooking he was merely…forgetful. Very, very forgetful. Not just of food he had put on the stove, or of other minor things like that, but he was just as forgetful when it came to warnings and basic safety practices. That meaning Alfred tended to have the microwave sparking and even smoking on a weekly basis. He really was a big goof…but a loveable one none the less.
“I swear, if put a fork in there again, I’m going to wring your bloody--…” The Englishmen’s irritated words trailed to a silence as he stepped into the kitchen becoming far too puzzled for a sense of frustration over the mess he had stumbled into for his mind to process. There his boyfriend was, desperately trying to cool down and stop the seemingly never ending flow of smoke that was coming from what looked to be a horribly burned casserole of some sort. That wasn’t the only thing though. The floor and a good portion of the American’s clothes were covered in some sort of green liquid. The stove was an absolute disaster, it too covered in the same green mess that was everywhere else, it as well holding a number of dirty pots and pans with now charred and warped bottoms. It was a mess…A complete utter mess!
“What in the hell are you doing?!” His mind finally catching up with him, it was clear that Arthur was quite aggravated over the horrid mess the kitchen had become.
Not having expected his lover to be home yet, the Englishmen’s demanding question spooked Alfred something fierce, the American bolting away from the stove in a panicked jump, the wideness of his eyes only growing as he finally took notice to his boyfriend’s return, the irritated look on Arthur’s face making his stomach sink. “Oh, uh…Hey Artie! I--….I didn’t think you’d be back yet…” The American fumbled with his words, still trying to salvage what little bits of hope his surprise had.
“It’s pasted six, of course I’d be home by now.” He implored, clearly not amused.
“Oh, is it?” The American let an awkward chuckle go along with his words. “Sorry…I guess I lost track of time…”
“Doing what exactly?”
Alfred gulped, hesitating a moment before summing up the nerve to speak. “Um…well. You see…I was trying to make us din--…make you dinner.” Arthur’s brow furrowed slightly at the explanation he was given, never having known Alfred to cook much of anything outside of the microwave or on a barbeque grill. “I just…Well…you’ve been saying…talking a lot about England recently and…I figured you were getting homesick so…I thought…I’d try to help…” The walls of denial driven hope slowly began to crumble as Alfred steadily became aware of how royally he had screwed everything up. The food was burned, the soup was spilled, the kitchen was a complete mess and so was he. “British food didn’t seem so hard to make but…there was a lot to do all at once…and then there was an Abra outside and…the soup bubbled over and…” He let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry, Artie.”
Alfred figured he would get yelled out or scolded by his lover for making such a mess, that he would be called an idiot for trying to do something that was clearly beyond his ability. Though he received none of that. Alfred instead finding himself blinking down at his lover as the man came up and kisses his cheek. “You sweet little loon…” The aggravation in Arthur’s tone was completely and replaced with that of someone grateful. Yes, the Englishmen wasn’t happy to have come to his kitchen in shambles, but from what it seemed his boyfriend was trying to do something nice for him. Arthur may not have actually been home sick, but it was touching to know that Alfred paid enough attention to him to think that, not to mention going to through the effort of trying to cook a meal of foods he knew nothing about. And while that seemed to have played out as well as one would figure it to be, the gesture was a lovely one nonetheless.
“I really can’t leave you by yourself can I?” The Brit mused, moving his hand up to wipe some of what he know supposed was soup from the side of Alfred’s face.
“You…You’re not mad?”
“Over the mess? Of course.” Arthur’s voice turned stern again, though disappeared as quickly as it returned. “But…over your intentions? Not at all.” He assured, leaning up to steal a small kiss. “I assure that I’m far from homesick. But still…I can’t say I don’t appreciate what it was you were trying to do.” Arthur had lived in America for nearly five years now and while there were times when he missed his homeland he knew for certain, now more than ever, that this was his home.
“Well…I try my best.” The American chuckled a bit more genuinely, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Clearly.” Arthur grinned. “Now, you clean up this pigsty while I get us a new dinner.”
“Oh? What are you gonna make?” Nearly everything in the kitchen was dirtied, so unless Arthur was going to microwave a meal for them they were gonna go hungry tonight.
“A call, you ninny.” The Englishmen pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. “Didn’t you know? Chinese is the most popular takeout food in England? It’ll be just like home…”
Okay, this is my first time doing an exchange or anything like that with @usuknetwork , so I hope my person really likes it!
This is for @katryusha and I went with the prompt for fluff between het!UsUk. I really hope you enjoy it and I have no problem redoing this if you don’t like it. But I’m hoping you will. Anyway, please enjoy this short little fic.
Eliza’s Haircut
Eliza looked her new haircut over in the mirror of her bathroom. She took in the bob that curled slightly under her ears and the bangs that fell to the bottom edge of her eyebrows. If she was being completely honest with herself, she rather liked the new look. It was much easier to manage than her hair used to be and it framed her face better, not to mention it helped downplay how large her eyebrows actually were.
There was only one problem, really. Her boyfriend, Alfred, may not be too ecstatic about it. Well, it was his fault she had cut her hair like this in the first place. She may or may not have overheard a conversation he’d been having with a certain frog. They’d been talking about some silent film star with a signature bob and Alfred had mentioned loving the way bobs looked. Apparently, Eliza had been saving this little fact for when she was drunk enough to make sudden decisions and sober enough to be able to ask a hairstylist for this new bob without raising any questions.
Despite knowing that Alfred liked bobs, she wasn’t sure if he would like her bob. He’d always said how he loved running his fingers through her long hair. They’d sometimes laze the day away with her reading and him stroking her hair lovingly. Eliza sighed and stood up straight, determined to seem confident with this new look when Alfred finally got home.
She shut off the lights in the bathroom and went to the living room of their shared apartment. Eliza looked over the books on the shelves and grabbed a worn copy of the first Harry Potter book, smiling softly at the feel of the paper cover. She sits on the couch and turns on a lamp, starting to read the book as she crosses her legs.
Alfred smiled softly at the sight before him. Eliza on the couch with a book over her face, fast asleep and snoring softly even though she’d deny it for as long as they lived. He gently removes the book and puts it back on the shelf. He turns back to Eliza and blinks, noticing her definitely shorter hair. He furrows his eyebrows slightly and shakes his head, deciding he can ask her about it in the morning.
He gently picks her up from the couch, balancing her in one arm while he turns off the light, and heads for their room. Eliza shifts in his arms, starting to wake up from being jostled around. “…Alfred?” she mumbles.
Alfred smiles softly as he carries her into their bedroom and gently sets her down on the bed. “Yeah, babe. I’m sorry I got home late,” he whispers, climbing into the bed next to her. Eliza rubs her eyes and turns so she’s facing Alfred.
“Well, I suppose it’s alright. It’s not like I was staying up waiting for you,” she says. Alfred chuckles, knowing that’s just her passive aggressive way of saying she was worried. He sits against the pillows and pulls Eliza into his lap with her back against his chest. She practically squawks in surprise, blushing slightly when Alfred laughs.
“I’m sorry for worrying you,” he murmurs, resting his head on hers. He glances down at Eliza and smiles softly. “You cut your hair. What happened?”
Eliza stays quiet for a moment, wondering if she should tell him the actual truth or make something up. She sighs and figures telling the truth is for the best, recalling how Alfred always could tell when she was lying. “I heard you and that bloody frog talking about some silent film star. You said you liked bobs, so I drunkenly decided to cut my hair,” she explains.
Alfred manages to keep a straight face for all of two seconds before he bursts into laughter. Eliza huffs and crosses her arms, focusing all of her attention on one corner of the room. Was that dust and dirt? Oh, that corner was going to get a thorough cleaning later. Alfred glances down at her and calms down enough to kiss the top of her head. “Sorry, babe. It’s just, I didn’t think you’d been listening to that conversation,” he says.
“Why wouldn’t I? You seemed rather passionate about the topic,” Eliza says, looking up at him accusingly. Honestly, how dare he laugh at her right now! She had done this for him, admittedly in a drunken state, but it was still for him. All of which meant it was completely and utterly his fault.
“I was only saying all of that so I could get out of the conversation. You know the only way to end any sort of conversation with Francis is to agree until there’s nothing left to say,” he explains. Alfred watches as Eliza’s face flushes from embarrassment at her own misunderstanding.
“Do you mean this was bothering me for no bloody reason?!” she demands. Eliza frowns and leans her head back, looking up at Alfred. “Does that also mean you don’t like the bob?” she adds.
Alfred thinks for a few long moments, mostly just to tease Eliza and make her grow impatient. “I’m going to miss your long hair, but this looks pretty cute on you too,” he finally says, grinning happily. He ruffles her hair lovingly, laughing when she swats his hand away.
Eliza is silent for a moment before craning her head around to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Alfred. I love you, truly,” she says, resting her head on his shoulder. Alfred grins and presses a loving kiss to her lips for a few seconds before pulling away. Eliza smiles softly and lets her eyes close again, still tired from being woken up earlier by Alfred carrying her. She falls asleep a few moments later, feeling safe in Alfred’s arms.
“I love you too, baby. Sweet dreams,” Alfred whispers, leaning back against the headboard and closing his eyes. He shifts a little and nuzzles into Eliza’s hair, falling asleep with his lover in his arms.
Hey! So this was for @fluff-thedargon-slayer as a part of the usuk summer festival. The prompt was Miraculous Ladybug au and I jumped at the chance for my two favorite things! I hope you like it!
