Alfred was woken by the sudden wrapping of arms around his neck, and he opened his eyes sleepily to see someone's face being pressed against his chest.
Recognizing the "someone" mentioned above as Arthur, he wound his own arms round the Englishman's body and whispered to him. "Are you awake?"
His response was some sort of whimper; indeed he was awake.
Alfred gently kissed Arthur's forehead. "Are you alright...?"
Arthur turned his head a fraction of an inch to the right to signify the answer of "No." He tilted his head upwards to meet Alfred's lips. The American kissed back hard, sensing that he was being kissed because the Briton wanted to be assured of his existence, that the time they had spent together wasn't a mere dream-
But then, Alfred pondered, why would he need such reassurance?
"Did you have some kind of foul dream?" Alfred questioned curiously.
Alfred somehow drew a yes from Arthur's silence. He knew how it felt to be afraid at night; he knew it well, too well even. As a child he had often shot into bed with Arthur from fear: he had perhaps thought he had seen a ghost, or he had heard a noise and couldn't identify it's maker. Many a time he had been afraid of the things that went bump in the night and had rushed to Arthur's room; huddling close against his chest whilst the young English adult sang to him gently or told him stories about great princes and fair princesses and happily-ever-afters.
Now it was his turn, he supposed. He pulled the British man closer to his chest; he realized Arthur was actually shaking, and silently sobbing to boot. He must have dreamt something awful.
He couldn't sing as gently as Arthur, and the only stories he knew were about shipwrecked teens and airplane crashes.
The only thing he could do for Arthur in this situation was protect him from whatever evil had tormented him whilst he had slept, make him feel safe.
His arms around the trembling English gentleman, Alfred inched closer so that every bit of Arthur was touching him, and brought his legs around his former guardian's waist. He intended to fulfill his role as the hero and make sure the one he loved as safe and secure as he could. He guarded Arthur's shaking body with his own and buried one hand in his thick blond hair, running his fingers gently through it.
Arthur had soothed him as a child with his voice; as an adult, he calmed Arthur with his touch. He kissed him again, on his forehead and cheek and lips, and whispered to him ten short words.
"Everything will be okay. It will because I love you."
And against his chest, Alfred felt a smile grace Arthur's lips and smiled himself. His work was done.