2p!AmericaxReader-Boyfriend Material?

It was the dead of the night and whoever was at your door, you’re going to give him, or her, a good beating for waking you up from your sleep. The knocks on the door was getting louder and louder with each passing moment and you yelled, “Coming,” from the top of your lungs to get your message straight.

Finally reaching the door, you turned the knob hastily. You were faced with your brunette boyfriend, your bloody, bruised, bad boy, Alfred. His clothes were ripped and as bloody as his face. “Al what the eff?” He gave you a smile even with his swollen cheeks (damn he was still cute). Moved by pity (and the fact that he was your boyfriend), you helped him into your house.

“Hey babe,” he said in a strained voice.

“Ugh! Don’t talk right now. I’ll go get the ice pack, first aid kid and alcohol.”

This wasn’t the first time he came to your home like this, but this time it was a lot worse than before. You wonder who he fought with again.

After grabbing the first aid kit, which was fortunately stocked, and the slab of frozen meat—which will substitute the ice pack for now—you headed back to the living room to fix up Alfred.

He was there, slumped on the couch with his head tilted back. “Oh my god! Don’t tilt your head, lean, lean,” you reminded. You lost count on how many times you had instructed him on how to stop a nosebleed, yet he always forget. He did what he was told and leaned forward. “What am I going to do with you Al, you keep getting beat up.” He was silent, which was somehow surprising.

You moved to treating his wounds. You started with his face first. You bandaged everything up and applied alcohol to his wounds to prevent infection. He had a few cuts here and there but nothing fatal. When you had him open mouth, his lower lip was cut, you noticed that his gums were badly hurt, he even lost one canine. His eye was black, there was a lump on his forehead and his nose was gushing out blood.

You took the ice cold meat and gingerly slapped it over the lump in his forehead. He gave you as a confused look, with the mix of annoyance. Oops, you forgot he was vegetarian. You grinned weakly, “Just hold it.”

“What happened to your face?” you asked.

He leaned back and sighed, his arms resting on his side. “Nothing,” he plainly said as if nothing did happen.

“Nothing, Al.”

“That’s it. I’m going.” He promptly stood up, wincing a bit when he did. You gripped his shoulders and pushed him back down on the seat. “Stay there, I’m not done yet.”

You removed his jacket, letting it ease off his shoulders slowly. Then you tugged at his blood stained shirt but before you could pull it off, you stopped yourself. Blood rose to your cheeks, giving it a red tint.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Alfred smirked and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, an act that only deepened your glowing blush. If he wasn’t beat up right now, you could have punched him right in the jaw.

Taking a gulp of saliva that stuck to your throat, you managed to pull his shirt clean off, placing it over the chair’s arms. You saw what you expected to see, wounds were all over his torso as well. Luckily they weren’t deep but could still be infected, so you applied alcohol to them and wrapped them up in bandages. His body was hardy, it can handle anything it was thrown so far, but just how long will it last.

“Hey, Al. Just tell me, who did you with fight again?” you pestered.

“No one. It’s—just nothing. Look, I fell down the stairs okay.” He was never good at lying.

“Really now, you fell down the stairs…and got cuts and bruises all over.”

“It was a long ass staircase.”

“Then where’s your tooth?”

He huffed and hung his arm over the couch, “Mattie probably has it.”

“Mattie! You fought with Matt,” you growled. His eyes widened after realizing what he had told you. He looked away. “Al, Matt’s like a bulldozer and let’s face it. He’s a lot stronger than you—“

“Just…just shut up! I know that, he’s always better. If you like him then why did you waste your time with me!” He snapped ,threw the frozen meat over your head and shrunk back, forcing his body into an owl like position. His head was buried under his arms.

Your heart felt heavier with his words. Damn it, (Name), you and your stupid mouth. You mentally slapped yourself for your poor choice of words. “Look, Al…I didn’t mean it…I just…s-sorry.” You were at a loss for words just like him. You looked back and picked up the discarded meat, well that was a good waste.

The tension in the room was painstakingly painful to endure, so you decided to go to the kitchen to fix him up a warm glass water, complete with a straw since his mouth still probably hurts. “Al~” you called out in the kindest, cutest voice you can do but it done nothing.

“Come on, I said I’m sorry.”

“I’m not angry at you,” his voice hitched and slowed down. “It’s just that, It’s practically my fault anyway.”

You sat beside him and handed him the glass. He took the straw to his lips and sipped generously.

“What did you two fight about again?”

“You.”

“Me? What about me?” you blushed again.

“Matt told me that I was a bad boyfriend to you, then I got him back by reminding about that girl that left him. I mean, I didn’t mean to take up that subject, you know how he’s too touchy about that girl, but my temper got the best of me. Then he punched me and I punched him and well…”

You looked down your feet, taking note of the little details on your pants.

“Am I a bad boyfriend?” he asked, his red eyes gleamed with something you had never seen before. Love? Affection? The worry of loss? Whatever it was, it made your heart skip a lot of beats.

“Well…you do miss a lot of our dates, embarrass me a lot of times, forget our anniversaries which by the way was two months ago. You leave my house in a mess and I always have to clean up after you, like, all the time. I’d say you are a pretty bad boyfriend.”

With a dejected look, he turned away, his lip quivering as he bit down. You took the chance to wrap your arms around him in a delicate manner. He shook for a second at the sudden contact.

“But you know, you never cheat, you accept me for who I am, and treat me nicely…or nicer than the other girls. And all the things you are, I never want to change a single thing…because those are the things I fell in love with.” You pecked him on his bruised lips. If only he wasn’t beaten up maybe you would have taken it further. “You aren’t cheating on me are you?” you joked.

He hugged you, drawing you closer to him. “Of course I wouldn’t. There’s no one like you, babe. Besides, if I list down everything I like about you, the world would lose a lot of paper.” You blushed and fiddled with the hem of your shirt. “I’m glad I’m yours.”

“Me too, Al. I’m glad,” you said as you held him tighter. He made a slight sound of discomfort, but chuckled.