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Hetalia: England x Reader fic
Spring Dreams
___________

Your eyes squinted at the bright scene before you. You were on a lovely beach, with white sand and crystal blue waters. There was hardly a cloud in the sky. You huffed.

You didn't particularly want to be here. In an attempt to get you out of your house, your friends had eagerly suggested that you come with them on spring break. They had found an excellent deal at a resort, and the more people who went, the cheaper the cost would be. You had originally told them no, planning on spending your spring break cuddled up inside reading your favorite book. But as soon as your parents heard of this scheme, they wouldn't take no for an answer.

"You always spend so much time inside."

"Some fresh air will be good for you!"

"It'll be so relaxing."

"You'll regret it if you stay home."

Had been the countless things they had said to you. And that's where you found yourself now, on day number one of your vacation. You walked out onto the beach. You were wearing your swimsuit underneath a very thin sundress. You had a beach towel slung across your shoulders and a book grasped in your hand. You found a nice spot on the beach; close enough to the water to feel a cool breeze but far enough away that you wouldn't have to worry about getting wet. You placed your book on the sand as you began laying out your towel.

"Hey Artie, play catch with me!" you heard someone yell from behind you. You didn't hear "Artie's" response before. "Crap!"

"Git, you threw it too high!"

"Hey, look out—!"

Before you could even understand what was going on, a soaking wet, freezing ball collided with the warm skin of your back, making you yelp and cringe.

"Oh man, I'm so sorry!"

You turned around to see two guys headed in your direction. The first one to reach you gave you an embarrassed smile.

"I'm sorry, I must apologize for my idiot stepbrother. You're not hurt, are you?"

It took you a moment to reply, his British accent catching you by surprise. You had to mentally stop yourself from swooning. "Um... no. No, it's okay. I'm fine, really," you stuttered.

"Hey, don't call me an idiot! I'm really sorry, I really am!" said the other as he approached the two of you. You took a moment to stare at them both. They were as different as night and day. The other brother was obviously American. He was tall and tanned, while the other was a bit smaller and fair-skinned.

"Um... it's n-no big deal, really. A bit of water has never hurt anything," you stammered at the attractive brothers.

"Oh... except your book," the smaller said, bending down to pick up your book. You just realized that the wet ball had landed right next to it, soaking the ends of the pages.

"What the— oh, damn it…" you huffed. If there was anything that upset you, it was a damaged book. You were always sure to keep your books in pristine condition.

"Wait a tick..." the smaller said, looking at the cover and thumbing through the wet pages. "Sherlock Holmes?"

"Oh, perfect..." the taller sighed.

"Uh... yeah. I've become really interested in the series. Are you a fan?" you asked. The Englishman chuckled.

"You could say—"

"More like a fanatic," the American half-brother finished.

"Would you get out of here, Alfred!" he yelled, kicking the ball that started all of this back over to their area on the beach.

"Dude, you don't have to get mad!" Alfred replied, and then turned towards you. "And hey, whenever you get tired of old Sherlock here, you don't have to be nice. This guy can go on for days!"

"Shut it, you idiot!"

"Fine, I'm going! Again, I'm sorry. See ya," Alfred said, running away and leaving you with his English brother. You blinked. You couldn't believe what your eyes were seeing. Here you were on the beach with a guy (an attractive and British one, nonetheless) who shared your interest in Sherlock Holmes. You looked around, expecting Ashton Kutcher to pop out and tell you that you were being punk'd, but he never came. Instead, your cute Englishman was looking at you with concern.

"I'm sorry... I could go too, if you'd like—"

"No. No, I'm sorry, I just spaced out for a second... um, Artie?" you asked, hoping you remembered his name correctly.

"Oh, not that bloody nickname. You can call me Arthur. Arthur Kirkland."

"________ ________," you replied.

"Well, ________, it's nice to meet you," he said, taking your hand and placing a gentle kiss upon it. You imagined that you had to be blushing like mad. Even a small bit of pink managed to peak out from Arthur's cheeks as well.

"It's very nice to meet you too," you replied, not really knowing what else you could say. You were completely coming up blank.

"Right, well... I really do feel awful for getting your book wet. I have a couple Sherlock Holmes volumes in my room. I could lend you one, I suppose. I think I might even have the one that you were reading," he said.

"That's very kind of you, but you don't have to, I mean—"

"I want to. Besides, it's no fun reading a wet, crinkly book," he joked. "Come on up with me," he said. And you did so, grabbing your book and towel quickly.

You couldn't believe it. All of this over a book? You hadn't known this guy for ten minutes, and now you were going up to his hotel room with him! At first you began to panic... what if he was some kind of pervert?! You breathed. No. He seems like a perfectly normal guy. He's just being nice. A nice, cute, normal English guy who shares your love of Sherlock Holmes. And had you mentioned his eyebrows? You hadn't?! Well, they were something to behold. They were very thick, but seemed to fit his face perfectly.

You stopped your thoughts long enough to realize the sudden silence that hung between you both. "Uh, so Alfred... he's your brother?" you asked. At the mention of Alfred, Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Stepbrother, actually. His dad married my mum a couple months ago," Arthur answered.

"Oh..." you replied softly, feeling that you shouldn't pry.

"Hey, it's alright. It's nothing I get that upset about," he smiled. You guessed he saw the look on your face.

"Do you guys get along?" you asked.

"We have our days... but we're just so different, you know? As you can probably guess, I was raised in England. Alfred was raised in America. We don't share many interests, so it's hard to find common ground. You really don't know how happy it made me when I realized that you were reading Sherlock Holmes," he smiled.

"My friends don't care too much Sherlock either... they're more into drinking and parties," you replied.

"I'm not one for parties, but I can't say that I don't enjoy a good drink. There was one time, I only remember what other people told me, but I got so sloshed that I went around making deductions!" he laughed.

"You did not!" you giggled.

"I did!"

"And how did that work out for you?"

"I solved the mystery of the missing scone."

"You must document this. I bet it would be a worthy add-on to any one of Sherlock's tales," you smiled. Arthur blushed. All the while, you guys had walked into the hotel, taken the elevator, and were already on Arthur's floor. The top floor. "A suite?" you asked.

"Alfred's father is filthy rich. But quite honestly, I find anything he spends it on to be a complete waste of money," Arthur replied, slipping his room key into the door. It opened and you gawked as you walked in. This put the average room that you and your friends were staying in to shame.

"Well, I guess it's nice to have plenty of room for your family," you said. Arthur scoffed.

"Sure, if the whole family were actually staying here. Mum and dad are staying at the sister resort. They didn't want Alfred or myself to interfere with their personal time," Arthur replied.

"Wow... what a strange situation," you couldn't help but blurt out. "Sorry..." you mumbled back to Arthur.

"Don't apologize. It's completely mental," he smiled, disappearing through a door. You heard some rummaging before you heard an "Ah ha!"

Arthur returned moments later with a book in his hand. You couldn't help but laugh. It was the same as your dripping volume. "Told you I had it."

"Unbelievable..." you murmured, taking it in your hands. "Thanks again, so much. I promise, I'll return it to you as soon as possible."

"Don't worry yourself over it. I'm sure we'll see each other around," Arthur smiled.

And that you did. The very next day, Arthur greeted you on the beach. You had stayed up late that night reading Sherlock Holmes and he was very eager to discuss it with you. You found that, as opposed to most people you met, it was very easy to talk to him. In fact, you were almost afraid of how comfortable you felt around him.

At this moment, you both had taken to the pool. And it was the most serene pool you had ever had the pleasure of swimming in, complete with fountains, currents, and small waterfalls. You and Arthur had hidden yourselves underneath one. It was relaxing and cool being closed off by the wall of water. Your current topic of discussion had somehow gone from Sherlock Holmes to pirates.

"Pirates had the right idea," he suddenly blurted out. Your lips curled into a smile as you turned your head to look at him.

"What?"

"Well, I don't know about you, but I think it would have been neat to be a pirate... living life on the seven seas! No rules and live like a king. If someone was a wanker, make him walk the plank," Arthur explained. You couldn't stop smirking. "What?"

"You? A pirate?"

"Yes, me a pirate!" he replied with mock indignation. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"I'm sorry Arthur, but your too much of a gentleman to be a pirate. And you honestly expect me to believe you'd make Alfred walk the plank?" you asked. He stammered before—

"Perhaps not! But he would be scrubbing the poop deck... whatever that is. And even so, who says that a pirate can't be a gentleman?!"

"Because they're pirates? Don't pirates pillage and wreak havoc? You know... 'We're devils and black sheep, and really bad eggs'?" you smiled. But this time, it was Arthur's turn to smirk, as he turned to you with an odd gleam in his eye. You looked at him questioningly before his arms wrapped around you, pulling you onto his lap. You sat in complete shock.

"Well then, perhaps ye simply haven't met the right pirate," Arthur growled huskily in your ear, in a pirate's accent that went straight to your groin. You froze on his lap, hesitant to look at him. But when you did, he wasn't wearing any features of intimidation. He only looked happy. Positively happy, from his eyebrows to his smile as his thumb rubbed circles into the small of your back.

"I-I..." your mouth had gone completely dry. "I hope you don't expect me to be some wench for you to toss away as you grow bored," you replied, playing along with his pirate charade. He smirked at that.

"A wench? Not at all, love... I expect ye to be my queen," he crooned. He hardly had time to breathe before you wrapped your arms around him, catching his lips in a chaste kiss. When you parted, your actions slowly began to sink in... you had never been so forward with a guy in your life! When he spoke, his voice startled you.

"Did you enjoy that as much as I did?"

You looked him in the eyes and slowly nodded your head. He smiled, one of his hands lining your jaw, his thumb resting against your chin. He closed the gap this time, as you both decided to tread these new waters lightly. His lips were soft and you followed each other perfectly. You were so careful with one another, taking your kisses slowly. On the edges of his lips, you could taste the tea he had about an hour before. You suddenly felt self-conscious... what on earth did you taste like? But you pushed the thought out of your mind as you broke apart, taking large breaths. Never had you felt this way. When you looked at Arthur, you both began to laugh as he rested his forehead against yours.

"Do you pull this 'gentlemanly pirate act' on all the ladies?" you teased.

"Only you... and I was bloody terrified."
___________

The next few days were like a dream. You would get up early and hurry down to the lobby of the resort where you would always find Arthur sipping on a cup of tea. He'd always keep his eyes glancing in your direction and smile as he saw you. He would stand as you approached him, greeting you with the simplest of kisses. It was perfect. Together you would decide how to spend your day, whether it would be on the beach, in the pool, or just walking around the magical paradise that was the resort. You were never bored with him and you both always found something to talk about. You, the girl whom boyfriends were few and far between, loved every moment you spent with him. You two kissed, held hands, cuddled... it was like a dream. Except, this was life. You wouldn't have to wake up, right?

You hardly saw your friends, with the exception of when you went back to your room to sleep. Even then, you wished it was time you were spending with him, chatting about Sherlock Holmes, his silly dreams of gentleman-like piracy, his home back in England, or just spending time together in silence. It was never awkward, only peaceful.

On this particular evening however, Arthur had been particularly quiet. Not completely silent, but more so than usual. You both sat in a small café that was a part of your hotel. It had a tendency to stay empty, with the exception of you and Arthur. It was getting late, almost time for you to head back to your room, and Arthur hadn't been saying much as he looked down into his tea, absorbed in thought.

"Well," you began and he jerked his head up, looking at you. You paused for a moment, never seeing his emerald eyes so vibrant. "I guess I should head up to bed," you said, placing your hands on the table, scooting your chair back.

"________," he said suddenly, putting his hand over yours, holding it in his grasp. You had never seen him look so nervous. "Would you... would you like to stay in my suite tonight?"

Now it was your turn for your eyes to widen and a considerable amount of blood to rush to your cheeks. You'd be lying if you said you didn't want to, but you never imagined that it would happen.

"Yes," you answered quickly. Arthur immediately seemed to relax some, as he sipped his tea.

"Brilliant," he smiled. "On our way then?"

You smiled widely as you both stood and joined hands, heading in the direction of the elevators. You walked in and turned around as the doors closed and began taking you up.

"Did you expect me to say no?" you asked. He chuckled.

"I wasn't sure what to expect," he replied as the doors opened and you followed him to his suite. He pulled out his room key, sliding it into the door. It beeped in confirmation as the door clicked open.

"Welcome... again. Ladies first," Arthur said, holding the door as you stepped in. The suite was as pristine as ever. You walked over to the far wall, gazing out the window. For as far as you could see there was nothing but ocean. A large, full moon reflected in the water.

"This must be a dream," you whispered to yourself, quiet enough so that Arthur didn't hear you.

"Would you care for a drink?" Arthur asked, as you turned away from the window.

"Yes, please," you answered, approaching him as he walked to the mini-refrigerator. He opened it and pondered in front of it for a while.

"Wine, perhaps?"

"I've never had wine before..." you replied shyly. He smiled and pulled out the bottle.

"Well then, you must give it a try. I don't care for the stuff, but I can stomach it," he said nonchalantly, pulling two wine glasses out of the cupboard.

"Are you sure it's okay?" you asked.

"Alfred's father has always said to spare no expense... I mean, unless you don't want to. I apologize, I hope I'm not pressuring you," Arthur replied quickly, the nervousness returning to his features. You smiled quickly.

"Oh, no... one glass won't hurt, right?" you smiled.

"Right," he answered, pouring the wine into the glasses. He took both the glasses in his hands and then walked over to the large window overlooking the sea. You joined him as he handed you a glass.

"Should we make a toast?" you asked.

"Yes, of course. But what should we toast to...?" Arthur asked, the fingers of his free hand intertwining with yours. "To soaking wet beach balls thrown by Americans with no sense of aim?"

"To Sherlock Holmes?" you asked. He laughed.

"To piracy?"

"To talking for hours?"

"To holding your hand?" he asked. You blushed, your grip on his hand tightening. He looked away from you, embarrassed, but you quickly kissed along his jaw line.

"To stealing kisses?" you asked.

"To being so happy that it doesn't make any sense?"

You were both smiling like a couple of dorks, both embarrassed but loving every minute of it. You raised your glass to his and he did the same. Your glasses chimed as they collided and you both took your first sips.

It wasn't bitter or nasty as you expected wine to taste, rather it was smooth and sweet, leaving a pleasant sensation as it tickled your tongue. And surely enough, one glass turned to two until between both you and Arthur, there was now an empty wine bottle sitting on the counter. Now you both found yourselves on the large couch in the middle of the suite.

"And then I said, 'It was you! You're the one who stole the Philosopher's Scone!'" Arthur laughed. You joined him, giggling as your eyes never left his face. You felt absolutely fantastic. So happy. So at ease. You didn't have a care in the world... except for him.

You were completely absorbed in the way he looked. His ivory skin, the pink tint to his cheeks, a couple freckles here and there, his deep, emerald eyes, his thick eyebrows that would look ridiculous on anyone else but him... you wanted to remember every detail. You could see his mouth moving, but you were so lost in thought that you didn't hear his words.

"Love? Are you feeling alright?" he asked, his hand cupping your cheek. You leaned into his touch, smiling.

"I've never felt this way..." you answered.

"First time drinking, I presume?" he smiled.

"No..." you murmured into his hand. "You. I've never... the way I feel about you, I've never felt this. It's... you're... you're a pirate."

Arthur laughed. Oh, his laugh... it was like music to your ears. "Come here," he said as he opened his arms to you and you crawled into his lap, his long arms wrapping around you. "Now tell me, poppet... why do ye think that I'm a pirate?" he asked, in the same accent that sent an unrelenting heat searing through your womanhood.

"Because... I was just a normal girl. On vacation with a couple of friends and then you came along... you ruined my book and then charmed me with your Britishness and witty Sherlock Holmes banter—"

"Ye think me Sherlock Holmes banter is witty?"

"And then we started hanging out and you told me that you wanted to be a pirate... and now you've gone and shanghaied my heart," you finished quietly, avoiding Arthur's eyes as you tried to live down that awful metaphor. Arthur sensed your unease and began kissing down your neck.

"To be fair, love... you've run off with my heart as well."

You took his head in your hands, bringing his lips to yours. You could still faintly taste the sweet wine that had lingered on his lips. When you parted, you both breathed heavily.

"Would you like to lie down?" he asked. You nodded, unlatching yourself from him, but he stopped you. Instead he pulled you closer, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and another under your legs. As you felt him begin to move underneath you, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Arthur, what are you— I could walk myself," you said, as he stood up with you in his arms. He stumbled slightly, but quickly found his bearings, holding you tight.

"Begging your pardon, but you're drunk. And I don't wanna see you stumbling to the bedroom, so let me dote on you for a bit, okay?"

"You drank just as much as I did..."

"Yes, yes... but I can stomach it much better than you can," he smiled, as he walked into his bedroom and laid you down on his bed.

"I— I'm not that bad!" you defended, quickly trying to gather yourself. You looked down at what you were wearing and then remembered. "A-Arthur, you don't have anything I could change into for the night, do you?" you asked.

"I'm sure I can find something..." he said, rummaging through a dresser. He handed you some neatly folded clothes. "If those won't do, just let me know. Bathroom is right through that door," he said, pointing to a door to the right of the dresser. With the clothes in hand, you quickly got up on your own two feet. Arthur had been right. Your legs felt like jelly beneath you. "Can you make it?"

"Yeah," you answered as you slowly began walking. When you reached the bathroom you began to look over the clothes Arthur had given you. An Abbey Road t-shirt and a pair of Union Jack boxers. You couldn't help but laugh as you slipped off your clothing and put on Arthur's. You inhaled deeply and you put his shirt on. The smell of Arthur making you smile. You finished up in the bathroom before shyly revealing yourself to Arthur, who was lying on his large bed. As always, he stood as you entered, beaming as he looked you all over.

"You planned this, didn't you?"

"You've never looked better," he smiled down at you.

"I feel so posh," you joked. Taking your hands, Arthur pulled you towards the bed. He crawled in first and then you scooted in next to him. He wrapped an arm around you as you cuddled into his chest, laying one of your hands on his stomach as you rubbed gently. You suddenly felt so drained and peaceful in his grasp.

"________?" Arthur murmured. You loved the way your name sounded when he said it. You smiled.

"Yes?" you replied sleepily, drawing circles on his stomach with your finger.

"I... I love you. I know we've only spent a couple days together, but this... it's more different than anything I've known," he mumbled; embarrassed by his words, afraid of being rejected. Instead you mustered what little energy you had left to push yourself off of him. You began kissing him, starting from his collarbone, up his neck, along his jaw and then placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"I love you too. You don't have to try and explain your feelings. I already understand," you replied, snuggling even closer to the Brit.

"Oh, is that right?" he asked.

"Of course... you're just a gentlemanly pirate, I thought we settled this."

Arthur chuckled, but it soon turned into a growl from within his chest. "Aye, lass... let me show ye how much of a gentleman I am."

*SEXY TIMES TO BE CONTINUED MAYBE*

You had never felt so wonderful, drifting in and out of sleep that morning. You didn't want to get up. Arthur had his arms wrapped around you and you could feel his chest against your back. You were so warm and comfortable; you wanted to stay like this forever.

"Yo Artie! You here?!

Both you and Arthur jerked awake abruptly, Arthur's arm tightening around you. The door to Arthur's room flew open. "Hey dude, I ran into ________'s friends and— holy crap! You two slept together?!"

Arthur grabbed the closest pillow and tossed it at Alfred. "Get out, wanker! Do you know anything about privacy?!"

"Dude, relax! ________, I ran into a couple of your friends on the way up here. They said they needed you, like, right now. I think they were worried..." Alfred explained, blushing at you before leaving the room. You groaned, sitting up as your head began to pulse with pain. That's right... the wine, you remembered. You plopped back down against the pillow, closing your eyes.

"Guess I should tell them I'm okay..." you muttered. You felt Arthur's body shuffling a bit before you felt his soft lips against your forehead.

"Go on. I'll meet you for breakfast at the café in a bit, alright?"

"Alright," you answered, getting up and remembering that you had borrowed Arthur's clothes last night. You blushed. One of his t-shirts and boxers... oh god, you were wearing his boxers. "Um... should I—?"

"You can wear them a bit longer," he smirked. "I'll get them back soon enough," he smiled, also getting up from the bed.

"Right... see you," you replied.

"See you."
___________

"Where on earth have you been?! Really, of all days for you to go missing! Hurry and pack your things, our plane leaves in three hours!"

"What?!"

"Don't tell me you forgot that this was our last day... especially when you're the one who we had to drag along in the first place! Honestly ________, your brain sometimes... just hurry. Our cab will be here in an hour. I'm gonna go check out."

Your heart sunk. Your spring break was over? But how? It felt like you had just gotten here and Alfred soaked your book and Arthur—

Arthur. This really was a dream, wasn't it? You knew all along that you couldn't stay here with him forever, but you always pushed that to the back of your mind, the thought of being without him being more than you could handle. Slowly and absentmindedly, you began to pack your suitcase. All you could think of was Arthur. Was he waiting for you at the café? Would he expect this? Would he not? How would he feel about this? Will he let all of this become a memory?

Your bag was packed and in your hands you held Arthur's clothes and the Sherlock Holmes book he let you borrow. Painstakingly, you got into the elevator, knowing that it would be your last time riding it.

You walked out of the elevator and towards the lobby, stopping at two sights in front of you. One was your friends as they began stuffing their luggage into a taxi. And there was Arthur, sitting at his usual table with an untouched cup of tea. If he had gone to the café, he hadn't stayed there. He saw you immediately and stood, like the gentleman he was. You walked towards him quickly, wanting to be with him for as long as you could before you had to leave.

"I guess you figured it out..." you said quietly.

"Yeah," he said shortly, his eyes locked on yours. And no matter how you looked at him, you couldn't figure out what he was thinking.

"Right... well, thank you for lending me these," you said, handing him his neatly folded clothes and Sherlock Holmes novel.

"Hold on to them for me. I'll get them back soon enough," he said, wrapping you in his arms as you held his belongings close to your chest. "Don't look like that... don't be upset," he murmured. "This is the end of your vacation... not the end of us."

A feeling of elation swept over you. "What's wrong with us? We're so cheesy!" you giggled.

"We're so adorable it's disgusting!" Arthur laughed. "But I love it. I love you, ________. Honestly. So don't be sad... we'll see each other again."

"When?"

"Sooner than you think, love."

You two stepped apart, and before you could protest, he carried your luggage over to the taxi. Everyone said their final goodbyes to the people they had met here and all climbed into the car. You were the very last one, standing by the door with Arthur.

"See you soon?"

"See you soon," he crooned, placing another kiss upon your lips. You savored it, not knowing when you would be able to feel his lips against yours again. You got into the taxi and he shut the door after you and you took a deep breath as the taxi began speeding away, and Arthur was far from view.

"Damn... you found one hell of a spring fling," one of your friends commented, but you smiled... because it wasn't a fling. It was never a fling.

Description
Hetalia: England x Reader fic
Spring Dreams
___________

Your eyes squinted at the bright scene before you. You were on a lovely beach, with white sand and crystal blue waters. There was hardly a cloud in the sky. You huffed.

You didn't particularly want to be here. In an attempt to get you out of your house, your friends had eagerly suggested that you come with them on spring break. They had found an excellent deal at a resort, and the more people who went, the cheaper the cost would be. You had originally told them no, planning on spending your spring break cuddled up inside reading your favorite book. But as soon as your parents heard of this scheme, they wouldn't take no for an answer.

"You always spend so much time inside."

"Some fresh air will be good for you!"

"It'll be so relaxing."

"You'll regret it if you stay home."

Had been the countless things they had said to you. And that's where you found yourself now, on day number one of your vacation. You walked out onto the beach. You were wearing your swimsuit underneath a very thin sundress. You had a beach towel slung across your shoulders and a book grasped in your hand. You found a nice spot on the beach; close enough to the water to feel a cool breeze but far enough away that you wouldn't have to worry about getting wet. You placed your book on the sand as you began laying out your towel.

"Hey Artie, play catch with me!" you heard someone yell from behind you. You didn't hear "Artie's" response before. "Crap!"

"Git, you threw it too high!"

"Hey, look out—!"

Before you could even understand what was going on, a soaking wet, freezing ball collided with the warm skin of your back, making you yelp and cringe.

"Oh man, I'm so sorry!"

You turned around to see two guys headed in your direction. The first one to reach you gave you an embarrassed smile.

"I'm sorry, I must apologize for my idiot stepbrother. You're not hurt, are you?"

It took you a moment to reply, his British accent catching you by surprise. You had to mentally stop yourself from swooning. "Um... no. No, it's okay. I'm fine, really," you stuttered.

"Hey, don't call me an idiot! I'm really sorry, I really am!" said the other as he approached the two of you. You took a moment to stare at them both. They were as different as night and day. The other brother was obviously American. He was tall and tanned, while the other was a bit smaller and fair-skinned.

"Um... it's n-no big deal, really. A bit of water has never hurt anything," you stammered at the attractive brothers.

"Oh... except your book," the smaller said, bending down to pick up your book. You just realized that the wet ball had landed right next to it, soaking the ends of the pages.

"What the— oh, damn it…" you huffed. If there was anything that upset you, it was a damaged book. You were always sure to keep your books in pristine condition.

"Wait a tick..." the smaller said, looking at the cover and thumbing through the wet pages. "Sherlock Holmes?"

"Oh, perfect..." the taller sighed.

"Uh... yeah. I've become really interested in the series. Are you a fan?" you asked. The Englishman chuckled.

"You could say—"

"More like a fanatic," the American half-brother finished.

"Would you get out of here, Alfred!" he yelled, kicking the ball that started all of this back over to their area on the beach.

"Dude, you don't have to get mad!" Alfred replied, and then turned towards you. "And hey, whenever you get tired of old Sherlock here, you don't have to be nice. This guy can go on for days!"

"Shut it, you idiot!"

"Fine, I'm going! Again, I'm sorry. See ya," Alfred said, running away and leaving you with his English brother. You blinked. You couldn't believe what your eyes were seeing. Here you were on the beach with a guy (an attractive and British one, nonetheless) who shared your interest in Sherlock Holmes. You looked around, expecting Ashton Kutcher to pop out and tell you that you were being punk'd, but he never came. Instead, your cute Englishman was looking at you with concern.

"I'm sorry... I could go too, if you'd like—"

"No. No, I'm sorry, I just spaced out for a second... um, Artie?" you asked, hoping you remembered his name correctly.

"Oh, not that bloody nickname. You can call me Arthur. Arthur Kirkland."

"________ ________," you replied.

"Well, ________, it's nice to meet you," he said, taking your hand and placing a gentle kiss upon it. You imagined that you had to be blushing like mad. Even a small bit of pink managed to peak out from Arthur's cheeks as well.

"It's very nice to meet you too," you replied, not really knowing what else you could say. You were completely coming up blank.

"Right, well... I really do feel awful for getting your book wet. I have a couple Sherlock Holmes volumes in my room. I could lend you one, I suppose. I think I might even have the one that you were reading," he said.

"That's very kind of you, but you don't have to, I mean—"

"I want to. Besides, it's no fun reading a wet, crinkly book," he joked. "Come on up with me," he said. And you did so, grabbing your book and towel quickly.

You couldn't believe it. All of this over a book? You hadn't known this guy for ten minutes, and now you were going up to his hotel room with him! At first you began to panic... what if he was some kind of pervert?! You breathed. No. He seems like a perfectly normal guy. He's just being nice. A nice, cute, normal English guy who shares your love of Sherlock Holmes. And had you mentioned his eyebrows? You hadn't?! Well, they were something to behold. They were very thick, but seemed to fit his face perfectly.

You stopped your thoughts long enough to realize the sudden silence that hung between you both. "Uh, so Alfred... he's your brother?" you asked. At the mention of Alfred, Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Stepbrother, actually. His dad married my mum a couple months ago," Arthur answered.

"Oh..." you replied softly, feeling that you shouldn't pry.

"Hey, it's alright. It's nothing I get that upset about," he smiled. You guessed he saw the look on your face.

"Do you guys get along?" you asked.

"We have our days... but we're just so different, you know? As you can probably guess, I was raised in England. Alfred was raised in America. We don't share many interests, so it's hard to find common ground. You really don't know how happy it made me when I realized that you were reading Sherlock Holmes," he smiled.

"My friends don't care too much Sherlock either... they're more into drinking and parties," you replied.

"I'm not one for parties, but I can't say that I don't enjoy a good drink. There was one time, I only remember what other people told me, but I got so sloshed that I went around making deductions!" he laughed.

"You did not!" you giggled.

"I did!"

"And how did that work out for you?"

"I solved the mystery of the missing scone."

"You must document this. I bet it would be a worthy add-on to any one of Sherlock's tales," you smiled. Arthur blushed. All the while, you guys had walked into the hotel, taken the elevator, and were already on Arthur's floor. The top floor. "A suite?" you asked.

"Alfred's father is filthy rich. But quite honestly, I find anything he spends it on to be a complete waste of money," Arthur replied, slipping his room key into the door. It opened and you gawked as you walked in. This put the average room that you and your friends were staying in to shame.

"Well, I guess it's nice to have plenty of room for your family," you said. Arthur scoffed.

"Sure, if the whole family were actually staying here. Mum and dad are staying at the sister resort. They didn't want Alfred or myself to interfere with their personal time," Arthur replied.

"Wow... what a strange situation," you couldn't help but blurt out. "Sorry..." you mumbled back to Arthur.

"Don't apologize. It's completely mental," he smiled, disappearing through a door. You heard some rummaging before you heard an "Ah ha!"

Arthur returned moments later with a book in his hand. You couldn't help but laugh. It was the same as your dripping volume. "Told you I had it."

"Unbelievable..." you murmured, taking it in your hands. "Thanks again, so much. I promise, I'll return it to you as soon as possible."

"Don't worry yourself over it. I'm sure we'll see each other around," Arthur smiled.

And that you did. The very next day, Arthur greeted you on the beach. You had stayed up late that night reading Sherlock Holmes and he was very eager to discuss it with you. You found that, as opposed to most people you met, it was very easy to talk to him. In fact, you were almost afraid of how comfortable you felt around him.

At this moment, you both had taken to the pool. And it was the most serene pool you had ever had the pleasure of swimming in, complete with fountains, currents, and small waterfalls. You and Arthur had hidden yourselves underneath one. It was relaxing and cool being closed off by the wall of water. Your current topic of discussion had somehow gone from Sherlock Holmes to pirates.

"Pirates had the right idea," he suddenly blurted out. Your lips curled into a smile as you turned your head to look at him.

"What?"

"Well, I don't know about you, but I think it would have been neat to be a pirate... living life on the seven seas! No rules and live like a king. If someone was a wanker, make him walk the plank," Arthur explained. You couldn't stop smirking. "What?"

"You? A pirate?"

"Yes, me a pirate!" he replied with mock indignation. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"I'm sorry Arthur, but your too much of a gentleman to be a pirate. And you honestly expect me to believe you'd make Alfred walk the plank?" you asked. He stammered before—

"Perhaps not! But he would be scrubbing the poop deck... whatever that is. And even so, who says that a pirate can't be a gentleman?!"

"Because they're pirates? Don't pirates pillage and wreak havoc? You know... 'We're devils and black sheep, and really bad eggs'?" you smiled. But this time, it was Arthur's turn to smirk, as he turned to you with an odd gleam in his eye. You looked at him questioningly before his arms wrapped around you, pulling you onto his lap. You sat in complete shock.

"Well then, perhaps ye simply haven't met the right pirate," Arthur growled huskily in your ear, in a pirate's accent that went straight to your groin. You froze on his lap, hesitant to look at him. But when you did, he wasn't wearing any features of intimidation. He only looked happy. Positively happy, from his eyebrows to his smile as his thumb rubbed circles into the small of your back.

"I-I..." your mouth had gone completely dry. "I hope you don't expect me to be some wench for you to toss away as you grow bored," you replied, playing along with his pirate charade. He smirked at that.

"A wench? Not at all, love... I expect ye to be my queen," he crooned. He hardly had time to breathe before you wrapped your arms around him, catching his lips in a chaste kiss. When you parted, your actions slowly began to sink in... you had never been so forward with a guy in your life! When he spoke, his voice startled you.

"Did you enjoy that as much as I did?"

You looked him in the eyes and slowly nodded your head. He smiled, one of his hands lining your jaw, his thumb resting against your chin. He closed the gap this time, as you both decided to tread these new waters lightly. His lips were soft and you followed each other perfectly. You were so careful with one another, taking your kisses slowly. On the edges of his lips, you could taste the tea he had about an hour before. You suddenly felt self-conscious... what on earth did you taste like? But you pushed the thought out of your mind as you broke apart, taking large breaths. Never had you felt this way. When you looked at Arthur, you both began to laugh as he rested his forehead against yours.

"Do you pull this 'gentlemanly pirate act' on all the ladies?" you teased.

"Only you... and I was bloody terrified."
___________

The next few days were like a dream. You would get up early and hurry down to the lobby of the resort where you would always find Arthur sipping on a cup of tea. He'd always keep his eyes glancing in your direction and smile as he saw you. He would stand as you approached him, greeting you with the simplest of kisses. It was perfect. Together you would decide how to spend your day, whether it would be on the beach, in the pool, or just walking around the magical paradise that was the resort. You were never bored with him and you both always found something to talk about. You, the girl whom boyfriends were few and far between, loved every moment you spent with him. You two kissed, held hands, cuddled... it was like a dream. Except, this was life. You wouldn't have to wake up, right?

You hardly saw your friends, with the exception of when you went back to your room to sleep. Even then, you wished it was time you were spending with him, chatting about Sherlock Holmes, his silly dreams of gentleman-like piracy, his home back in England, or just spending time together in silence. It was never awkward, only peaceful.

On this particular evening however, Arthur had been particularly quiet. Not completely silent, but more so than usual. You both sat in a small café that was a part of your hotel. It had a tendency to stay empty, with the exception of you and Arthur. It was getting late, almost time for you to head back to your room, and Arthur hadn't been saying much as he looked down into his tea, absorbed in thought.

"Well," you began and he jerked his head up, looking at you. You paused for a moment, never seeing his emerald eyes so vibrant. "I guess I should head up to bed," you said, placing your hands on the table, scooting your chair back.

"________," he said suddenly, putting his hand over yours, holding it in his grasp. You had never seen him look so nervous. "Would you... would you like to stay in my suite tonight?"

Now it was your turn for your eyes to widen and a considerable amount of blood to rush to your cheeks. You'd be lying if you said you didn't want to, but you never imagined that it would happen.

"Yes," you answered quickly. Arthur immediately seemed to relax some, as he sipped his tea.

"Brilliant," he smiled. "On our way then?"

You smiled widely as you both stood and joined hands, heading in the direction of the elevators. You walked in and turned around as the doors closed and began taking you up.

"Did you expect me to say no?" you asked. He chuckled.

"I wasn't sure what to expect," he replied as the doors opened and you followed him to his suite. He pulled out his room key, sliding it into the door. It beeped in confirmation as the door clicked open.

"Welcome... again. Ladies first," Arthur said, holding the door as you stepped in. The suite was as pristine as ever. You walked over to the far wall, gazing out the window. For as far as you could see there was nothing but ocean. A large, full moon reflected in the water.

"This must be a dream," you whispered to yourself, quiet enough so that Arthur didn't hear you.

"Would you care for a drink?" Arthur asked, as you turned away from the window.

"Yes, please," you answered, approaching him as he walked to the mini-refrigerator. He opened it and pondered in front of it for a while.

"Wine, perhaps?"

"I've never had wine before..." you replied shyly. He smiled and pulled out the bottle.

"Well then, you must give it a try. I don't care for the stuff, but I can stomach it," he said nonchalantly, pulling two wine glasses out of the cupboard.

"Are you sure it's okay?" you asked.

"Alfred's father has always said to spare no expense... I mean, unless you don't want to. I apologize, I hope I'm not pressuring you," Arthur replied quickly, the nervousness returning to his features. You smiled quickly.

"Oh, no... one glass won't hurt, right?" you smiled.

"Right," he answered, pouring the wine into the glasses. He took both the glasses in his hands and then walked over to the large window overlooking the sea. You joined him as he handed you a glass.

"Should we make a toast?" you asked.

"Yes, of course. But what should we toast to...?" Arthur asked, the fingers of his free hand intertwining with yours. "To soaking wet beach balls thrown by Americans with no sense of aim?"

"To Sherlock Holmes?" you asked. He laughed.

"To piracy?"

"To talking for hours?"

"To holding your hand?" he asked. You blushed, your grip on his hand tightening. He looked away from you, embarrassed, but you quickly kissed along his jaw line.

"To stealing kisses?" you asked.

"To being so happy that it doesn't make any sense?"

You were both smiling like a couple of dorks, both embarrassed but loving every minute of it. You raised your glass to his and he did the same. Your glasses chimed as they collided and you both took your first sips.

It wasn't bitter or nasty as you expected wine to taste, rather it was smooth and sweet, leaving a pleasant sensation as it tickled your tongue. And surely enough, one glass turned to two until between both you and Arthur, there was now an empty wine bottle sitting on the counter. Now you both found yourselves on the large couch in the middle of the suite.

"And then I said, 'It was you! You're the one who stole the Philosopher's Scone!'" Arthur laughed. You joined him, giggling as your eyes never left his face. You felt absolutely fantastic. So happy. So at ease. You didn't have a care in the world... except for him.

You were completely absorbed in the way he looked. His ivory skin, the pink tint to his cheeks, a couple freckles here and there, his deep, emerald eyes, his thick eyebrows that would look ridiculous on anyone else but him... you wanted to remember every detail. You could see his mouth moving, but you were so lost in thought that you didn't hear his words.

"Love? Are you feeling alright?" he asked, his hand cupping your cheek. You leaned into his touch, smiling.

"I've never felt this way..." you answered.

"First time drinking, I presume?" he smiled.

"No..." you murmured into his hand. "You. I've never... the way I feel about you, I've never felt this. It's... you're... you're a pirate."

Arthur laughed. Oh, his laugh... it was like music to your ears. "Come here," he said as he opened his arms to you and you crawled into his lap, his long arms wrapping around you. "Now tell me, poppet... why do ye think that I'm a pirate?" he asked, in the same accent that sent an unrelenting heat searing through your womanhood.

"Because... I was just a normal girl. On vacation with a couple of friends and then you came along... you ruined my book and then charmed me with your Britishness and witty Sherlock Holmes banter—"

"Ye think me Sherlock Holmes banter is witty?"

"And then we started hanging out and you told me that you wanted to be a pirate... and now you've gone and shanghaied my heart," you finished quietly, avoiding Arthur's eyes as you tried to live down that awful metaphor. Arthur sensed your unease and began kissing down your neck.

"To be fair, love... you've run off with my heart as well."

You took his head in your hands, bringing his lips to yours. You could still faintly taste the sweet wine that had lingered on his lips. When you parted, you both breathed heavily.

"Would you like to lie down?" he asked. You nodded, unlatching yourself from him, but he stopped you. Instead he pulled you closer, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and another under your legs. As you felt him begin to move underneath you, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Arthur, what are you— I could walk myself," you said, as he stood up with you in his arms. He stumbled slightly, but quickly found his bearings, holding you tight.

"Begging your pardon, but you're drunk. And I don't wanna see you stumbling to the bedroom, so let me dote on you for a bit, okay?"

"You drank just as much as I did..."

"Yes, yes... but I can stomach it much better than you can," he smiled, as he walked into his bedroom and laid you down on his bed.

"I— I'm not that bad!" you defended, quickly trying to gather yourself. You looked down at what you were wearing and then remembered. "A-Arthur, you don't have anything I could change into for the night, do you?" you asked.

"I'm sure I can find something..." he said, rummaging through a dresser. He handed you some neatly folded clothes. "If those won't do, just let me know. Bathroom is right through that door," he said, pointing to a door to the right of the dresser. With the clothes in hand, you quickly got up on your own two feet. Arthur had been right. Your legs felt like jelly beneath you. "Can you make it?"

"Yeah," you answered as you slowly began walking. When you reached the bathroom you began to look over the clothes Arthur had given you. An Abbey Road t-shirt and a pair of Union Jack boxers. You couldn't help but laugh as you slipped off your clothing and put on Arthur's. You inhaled deeply and you put his shirt on. The smell of Arthur making you smile. You finished up in the bathroom before shyly revealing yourself to Arthur, who was lying on his large bed. As always, he stood as you entered, beaming as he looked you all over.

"You planned this, didn't you?"

"You've never looked better," he smiled down at you.

"I feel so posh," you joked. Taking your hands, Arthur pulled you towards the bed. He crawled in first and then you scooted in next to him. He wrapped an arm around you as you cuddled into his chest, laying one of your hands on his stomach as you rubbed gently. You suddenly felt so drained and peaceful in his grasp.

"________?" Arthur murmured. You loved the way your name sounded when he said it. You smiled.

"Yes?" you replied sleepily, drawing circles on his stomach with your finger.

"I... I love you. I know we've only spent a couple days together, but this... it's more different than anything I've known," he mumbled; embarrassed by his words, afraid of being rejected. Instead you mustered what little energy you had left to push yourself off of him. You began kissing him, starting from his collarbone, up his neck, along his jaw and then placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"I love you too. You don't have to try and explain your feelings. I already understand," you replied, snuggling even closer to the Brit.

"Oh, is that right?" he asked.

"Of course... you're just a gentlemanly pirate, I thought we settled this."

Arthur chuckled, but it soon turned into a growl from within his chest. "Aye, lass... let me show ye how much of a gentleman I am."

*SEXY TIMES TO BE CONTINUED MAYBE*

You had never felt so wonderful, drifting in and out of sleep that morning. You didn't want to get up. Arthur had his arms wrapped around you and you could feel his chest against your back. You were so warm and comfortable; you wanted to stay like this forever.

"Yo Artie! You here?!

Both you and Arthur jerked awake abruptly, Arthur's arm tightening around you. The door to Arthur's room flew open. "Hey dude, I ran into ________'s friends and— holy crap! You two slept together?!"

Arthur grabbed the closest pillow and tossed it at Alfred. "Get out, wanker! Do you know anything about privacy?!"

"Dude, relax! ________, I ran into a couple of your friends on the way up here. They said they needed you, like, right now. I think they were worried..." Alfred explained, blushing at you before leaving the room. You groaned, sitting up as your head began to pulse with pain. That's right... the wine, you remembered. You plopped back down against the pillow, closing your eyes.

"Guess I should tell them I'm okay..." you muttered. You felt Arthur's body shuffling a bit before you felt his soft lips against your forehead.

"Go on. I'll meet you for breakfast at the café in a bit, alright?"

"Alright," you answered, getting up and remembering that you had borrowed Arthur's clothes last night. You blushed. One of his t-shirts and boxers... oh god, you were wearing his boxers. "Um... should I—?"

"You can wear them a bit longer," he smirked. "I'll get them back soon enough," he smiled, also getting up from the bed.

"Right... see you," you replied.

"See you."
___________

"Where on earth have you been?! Really, of all days for you to go missing! Hurry and pack your things, our plane leaves in three hours!"

"What?!"

"Don't tell me you forgot that this was our last day... especially when you're the one who we had to drag along in the first place! Honestly ________, your brain sometimes... just hurry. Our cab will be here in an hour. I'm gonna go check out."

Your heart sunk. Your spring break was over? But how? It felt like you had just gotten here and Alfred soaked your book and Arthur—

Arthur. This really was a dream, wasn't it? You knew all along that you couldn't stay here with him forever, but you always pushed that to the back of your mind, the thought of being without him being more than you could handle. Slowly and absentmindedly, you began to pack your suitcase. All you could think of was Arthur. Was he waiting for you at the café? Would he expect this? Would he not? How would he feel about this? Will he let all of this become a memory?

Your bag was packed and in your hands you held Arthur's clothes and the Sherlock Holmes book he let you borrow. Painstakingly, you got into the elevator, knowing that it would be your last time riding it.

You walked out of the elevator and towards the lobby, stopping at two sights in front of you. One was your friends as they began stuffing their luggage into a taxi. And there was Arthur, sitting at his usual table with an untouched cup of tea. If he had gone to the café, he hadn't stayed there. He saw you immediately and stood, like the gentleman he was. You walked towards him quickly, wanting to be with him for as long as you could before you had to leave.

"I guess you figured it out..." you said quietly.

"Yeah," he said shortly, his eyes locked on yours. And no matter how you looked at him, you couldn't figure out what he was thinking.

"Right... well, thank you for lending me these," you said, handing him his neatly folded clothes and Sherlock Holmes novel.

"Hold on to them for me. I'll get them back soon enough," he said, wrapping you in his arms as you held his belongings close to your chest. "Don't look like that... don't be upset," he murmured. "This is the end of your vacation... not the end of us."

A feeling of elation swept over you. "What's wrong with us? We're so cheesy!" you giggled.

"We're so adorable it's disgusting!" Arthur laughed. "But I love it. I love you, ________. Honestly. So don't be sad... we'll see each other again."

"When?"

"Sooner than you think, love."

You two stepped apart, and before you could protest, he carried your luggage over to the taxi. Everyone said their final goodbyes to the people they had met here and all climbed into the car. You were the very last one, standing by the door with Arthur.

"See you soon?"

"See you soon," he crooned, placing another kiss upon your lips. You savored it, not knowing when you would be able to feel his lips against yours again. You got into the taxi and he shut the door after you and you took a deep breath as the taxi began speeding away, and Arthur was far from view.

"Damn... you found one hell of a spring fling," one of your friends commented, but you smiled... because it wasn't a fling. It was never a fling.