Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. If I did there would be a whole lot more USUK moments.
A Late Night Visit
Rain had been pouring down outside of England's home for the past hour. Thunder had begun to sound across the sky and startled England making him jump from his seat on a cushioned chair by a brightly burning fire. "Bloody hell!" The green-eyed man yelled after spilling his cup of tea on himself and dropping the book he had been reading onto the floor. The still warm tea was spilt on his sweater and soaked the shirt underneath; England sat the now empty cup on the table next to his chair. He scowled at his sweater and started making his way towards the stairs leading up to his room; he got a few feet away from his chair and stopped when he heard the sound of the doorbell ringing. 'Who could that be? The rain has yet to stop...' He thought, his eyes glancing at the clock seated on the mantle of the fire place, it read 22:00. England picked his book up and placed it onto the chair he had been sitting in and made his way to the door and opened it, revealing a very wet and cold America.
"Hey Artie!" The American grinned and adjusted his bag so that it was no longer sliding off of his shoulder. His hair was flat against his head, besides the piece of hair, named Nantucket, that stubbornly refused to stay down and the red hoodie he was wearing was dripping water. England stared at the tall man in front of him confused.
"Alfred?" He started and then realized what the man had just called him. "Do not call me that! What are you doing here in the rain?"
Disregarding what the island nation had just told him not to do, he replied: "Well, I'm in the rain 'cause you haven't invited me in, Artie." The shorter of the two scowled. 'Stupid git. Why the hell is he here?' but never the less, he stepped to the side to let the bespectacled man in.
"You haven't answered my question, what are you doing here? And stop calling me that!" England glared at America as he walked past him and sat his bag down by his feet.
America turned around and frowned at England. "Ya don't remember? At the last meeting I said I'd stay with you this weekend since you refuse to come to my house." England was a bit startled by that and thought back to the meeting and recalled America briefly mentioning coming over to his house as Germany started to yell at everyone to shut up so that they may continue with the meeting.
'I didn't think he would actually come over...' England's thoughts trailed off as a tingling feeling began in his stomach but before he could assess the feeling, a figure shook itself in front of his face, drawing him out of his thoughts and into a pair of bright cerulean eyes. Barely a few inches away stood America, slightly bent to look into England's own emerald eyes.
"Arthur? Are ya there?" He questioned still waving his hand in front of said man's face. England grabbed his hand and glared at the man in front of him, a slight blush gracing his face at how close America really was. "Dude, you were out of it for a minute there." Before the Englishman could reply to this the American just continued on talking. "Awww... Artie if ya wanted to hold my hand all you had to do was ask."
"What in the bloody hell are you talking about you prat?" England exclaimed as his blush brightened. America then began to swing their hands between them and the shorter man looked down at the motion and immediately yanked his hand out of the others grip. England looked back up at America's eyes just in time to see a flicker of something flash through them before returning to normal and he was once again happy. 'That was quite strange.' England thought, 'He looked almost...sad. No it couldn't have been. It's probably just my imagination.' England brushed it off and refused to think about it again. America's eyebrows furrowed as he stared down at the green-eyed man, his eyes focused on his shirt and the large, dark blot that made the room smell strongly of tea.
"Uhh...Arthur what is on your shirt?" He questioned and tugged at the material. England swatted his hand away and looked slightly embarrassed.
"The thunder startled me and I spilt tea on myself. I was going to change but then you showed up." England sneered "Why are you here so late? Surely there must have been a flight that left early."
"Well, yeah, but I walked around when I got here and lost track of time... The traffic was gettin' bad so I walked instead of takin' a taxi. It started raining on the way here, shoulda known it would, I am at your place. But it took a lot longer than I thought it would." America stated sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck out of embarrassment. At seeing this England's face softened a bit and sighed.
"If you had called I would have picked you up." England mumbled and then stepped around the taller nation. "I am going to go change. You know where your room is, you should also change." America gazed at the back of the older nation before grabbing his bag and jogging a bit to catch up to him and walked next to him up the stairs. America talked to the shorter man about his trip and how boring his flight was because he had forgotten his PSP at home. England nodded when necessary and yelled at the nation when he started calling him 'Artie'.
They reached the top of the stairs and split off to their separate rooms. England walked into his room and shut the door behind him. He took his sweater off, leaving the under shirt on for now and went to his closet and looked for a shirt to put on. Meanwhile, America was having trouble getting the door to his own room open. "God damn it! It's locked." America sighed and dropped his bag by his feet. "Oh well... I'll just go and get Artie." He brightened up at this idea and ran to the others room. America threw the door open to his host's room and called out to him. "Hey! Artie! I need...the..." He stopped talking and immediately turned around to hide an oncoming blush when saw that England had just taken his shirt off and looked startled by the American's loud entrance. 'He looks so small his clothes on...I didn't think he would have such a nice body...' Alfred's face got redder when he thought about the other nation.
"Bloody hell! What are you doing?" England demanded and yanked a pajama shirt out of his closet. He put it on and buttoned it up as he walked over to the younger nation. England put his hand onto the American's shoulder and turned him around. America's face was a bright red and he looked to be semi-nervous until he looked down at England and saw he had a shirt on with the design of the Union Jack.
His blush subsided a bit and replied to the angry Briton. "I-I came in here to get the key to my room. The door is locked or somethin'."
England looked annoyed at this answer and breathed out slowly to try and calm himself down. "Why didn't you knock? What have I told you about barging into a person's room without knocking?" The nation began to rant about the importance of respecting a person's privacy.
America's attention was focused on the lips of the shorter man, the movement and formation of each word was mesmerizing. 'They look so soft... I wonder what they feel like.' America thought as England grew increasingly annoyed, his face turning red. By now England's yelling had caused him to get closer to the American, where he stood less than a foot away. England brought his right hand up and poked America in the chest. This brought him back down to earth.
"Are you even listening to me?" The Briton all but yelled at the other nation. "You aren't listening to me, bloody wanker." England put his hands flat against America's chest, catching him off guard, and pushed him back out into the hallway.
"Wait! Arthur!" America shouted. England stopped closing the door and looked up at him and raised his thick eyebrows in a questioning manner. "I can't get into my room. Is there a key or somethin'?" England sighed and opened the door fully and walked out of the room.
"No, there is no key to that room. It doesn't lock." The Brit made his way towards America's room and tried to turn the knob but it wouldn't budge. 'Oh... That is not good.' He tugged at the knob and pushed against the door but it would not move. 'Why won't this door open?' America watched England kick the door out of anger and glare at the knob. "Well. The door is in fact stuck." England stated and jiggled the knob again only to have it come off of its place on the door. They both bent over to look into the hole and found the reason why the door wouldn't open. On the inside there was a hard clear substance. "What in the bloody hell is that?" England scowled at the mess.
America poked it with his finger. "It's glue I think." America stood back up and smiled. "Don't worry! A hero like me will get this door open! I just need some gunpowder, matches, dynamite, and some lace." England looked at the American like he was crazy.
"Are you mad? I will not get you any of those items." England yelled at America. "I don't even want to know what the lace is for..." England mumbled the last part to himself. "I will have someone come in and get it off. I don't want you to damage the door more than it already is." England tried thinking back to who could have glued the door shut, but he hasn't had any guests for a while, the last being Francis. 'It was probably that French bastard.' England scowled at this thought.
A wavy haired blonde man hid in the bushes outside of a restaurant that served pancakes at all hours of the day and into the night. The Frenchman was currently outside of a window where on the other side seated at a booth was another wavy haired blonde but instead of having blue eyes he had light violet eyes and a pair of glasses on. Across from him was a very loud and obnoxious red eyed albino. The two of them were laughing and enjoying themselves, they had just recently ordered and were waiting for their food. Prussia had his hands entwined with Canada's and both were leaning across the table, their lips barely touching, when a loud noise came from outside, breaking them apart. France who had been trying to keep quiet had started sneezing.
Prussia looked absolutely furious at the nation outside. He was going to get up and beat the nation for interrupting him and his Canadian beauty but a soft hand against his arm prevented him from doing so. "Don't kill him Gilbert." Canada stated, releasing Prussia's arm. The albino knew the soft-spoken boy was just mad as he was but didn't show it, he heard the meaning underneath the boy's words. He said to not kill him, nothing about not hurting him enough to where he would hopefully not bother them for the next few days.
The ruby-eyed male smiled down at the other and leaned down to kiss him on the cheek. "The awesome Prussia will not kill him, just hurt him a bit."
Canada blushed a bit and replied. "Well, hurry. I am sure the food will be here soon." France knew the wrath of the Prussian and high tailed it the other way.
'Somehow I blame Angleterre for this.'
"For now you will have to sleep in a guest room." With that England turned around to go back to his room.
"Wa-wait! Where are you going?" England turned to face America, his face looked nervous almost scared.
"I planned on going back to my room. To sleep, it is what normal people do." England went to turn back around but America had a hand on his arm, keeping him in place.
"D-do you think that m-maybe I could sleep in your room with you?" America stuttered.
England's face softened a bit at this and sighed. "No, Alfred you have to sleep in your own room." America's face saddened when he heard the rejection. Then something dawned on him Alfred only acted like this after he watched a movie or a played a game in the horror genre. "What was it this time? A movie? A game?" England suggested with a slightly irritated look on his face.
America's face reddened and he let go of Arthur's arm. "A movie; I was watchin' it on the plane ride here but I didn't finish it and I really wanted to, so I bought it on my phone to watch." The blue-eyed man rambled on and looked at the other with what is known as the puppy dog look. England flinched and tried to look away before the look took its hold but it was no use. "So can I sleep in your room?"
"Well… I suppose so…" England spoke wearily. America, with a wide grin, grabbed his bag and walked into England's room and flopped down onto the bed. England rolled his eyes and looked appalled. "Get your shoes off of the bed!" America removed his feet from the bed and sat up. "Did you bring clothes to change into?"
America stood up and grabbed his bag. "Course I did." He ran to England's bathroom door and turned around. "I'm gonna go ahead and take a shower." The older nation just sighed as America walked into the bathroom. He walked to his dresser, pulled out a pair of pants that matched his top and quickly slipped them on. He walked to the bed and crawled underneath the blankets. The sound of water from the shower and the rain pattering against the windows lulled the nation to sleep.
Light shined through the drapes onto England's face. He furrowed his eyebrows and tried to turn around to block the light from his eyes but a weight around his waist prevented him from doing so. Pressed up against England's back was America, who looked to be sleeping soundly. England tried to remove himself from the American's arms but he tightened his grip around the Brit's waist.
"Don't go." America breathed against the back of England's neck. "Stay with me." At this England stiffened a moment and tried to move again. America sighed and loosened his grip around the Briton expecting him to leave. The older nation instead rolled over to face the cerulean eyed man. Their foreheads were pressed together leaving barely any room between them and with America's arm still around the Brit's waist there was even less space.
England stared into America's endlessly blue eyes that seemed brighter and far more beautiful without his glasses in the way. Again the warm tingling feeling England had felt the previous night invade his tummy. 'Well… It is not an entirely unpleasant feeling.' England thought, and was about to think about what he was feeling until he was pulled away from his thought by America playing with the hem of his shirt. "Why?" He asked, his voice sounding rough from just waking up.
America shivered when he felt England's breath against his lips. "Well…." He began rather sleepily. "I am really warm and comfortable right now…so if you get up I won't be warm and comfortable." He paused for a second thinking. "Plus it's Saturday so you don't need to work, you just need to lie here in bed with me." He stated rather confidently, tightening his grip around England and proceeded to close his eyes to go back to sleep.
England frowned at the younger man and turned his head ever so slightly to glance up at the clock hanging up on the wall, the time upon the clock stated 7 o' clock in roman numerals. England sighed and wasn't sure if he should try to sneak out of the American's grasp or just lie there and waste the day in bed. 'If I fall back to sleep my internal clock will be off. But this is rather nice.' England debated in his head. 'On the other hand I need to finish some paper work that is needed for Monday's meeting.' The Briton sighed laying there listening to the other Nation's breathing after a few minutes his breathing evened out and England figured this would be the best time to escape the American. England attempted to wiggle his way out but America was strong even when sleeping. 'Damn. He is really bloody strong.' England thought and gave up on leaving.
England blushed after realizing how close they were and he thanked the gods America wasn't able to see it. England looked at the younger's face and took in the detail of it, how his lips were slightly parted and when asleep the American looked extremely young and rather adorable, not that England would admit that last part out loud. England took a glance down a bit to see that America was wearing a loose fitting light blue t-shirt with an American flag on the left sleeve.
England brought a hand up and ran his thumb over America's cheek reveling in how soft it was. 'He's so close…' England thought and felt the feeling come back in his stomach. His heart clenched as he stared at the American's face. 'I miss being able to do this…I miss my America.' England thought, closing his eyes as a tear slid down his cheek. He dropped his hand from America's face to wipe away the stray tear but stopped when he felt the other's hand against his face, brushing the tear away. England slowly opened his eyes and was met with a worried American staring back at him.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?" America asked worriedly. England nodded slightly and for a minute America thought England was going to yank his hand off of his face as he brought his hand up but instead he held the American's hand, still pressed against his face.
England ran his thumb over the top of America's hand and sighed. "I'm sorry for worrying you. I really am okay." America didn't buy it. England never let him see the other cry, even when he had been the Briton's colony; the older still hid the tears from him. This thought had angered the American a bit. The only time America had seen England cry was when he decided to declare independence. America's thoughts started to turn down a sad and nasty road when on the topic of his declaring independence and what it had done to the other nation. He, instead of focusing on those thoughts, brought his attention back to the man in his arms and tried to figure out what was wrong with him.
America frowned when England pulled his hand away from his face and started to turn away from him but the bespectacled man refused to let that happen. America placed his hand back onto his Briton's face, 'Yeah, Definitely mine.' He thought, turning England's face back to him and claimed the Englishman's lips for his own.
England stared wide eyed at the other man, shocked to say the least. 'Oh my…' was England's last thought as his eyes slid shut and began to kiss the man back. America smiled into the kiss and ran his hand down the Briton's back and pulled the man right into his chest, trying to keep him as close as possible. England gasped at the sudden movement and America took this chance to delve his tongue into the other's mouth. England could hardly think properly with the American kissing him and battling for dominance. He tangled his fingers in America's hair and could hardly contain a moan when said American ground himself against the other.
They soon broke apart. Lack of oxygen was apparent as they panted trying to gather enough air to breathe properly. They rested their foreheads against each other's, content with lying there together.
England opened his eyes and found the younger man smiling at him and couldn't help but smile back. The other man's smile immediately widened at this and pulled the smaller one into a hug, with England burying his face into the American's chest. England relaxed into the other's arms, with his eyes sliding shut; he fell asleep, a smile adorning his lips. America pulled the Briton closer, if that was possible and buried his face into England's blonde hair, and sighed contently, soon falling asleep with his Briton in his arms.
A couple hours later England awoke to a missing American. The Briton rolled over into the spot America had been sleeping in. He found it to still be warm, meaning the American had just recently gotten up. England sat up and groaned, still feeling a tad bit tired. England brought a hand up, touching his lips with the tips of his fingers and thought back to the night before. 'Did that really happen? Had I been dreaming?' The tips of his ears turned red at remembering how much he had liked the feel of America against him. He looked towards the bathroom hearing the water from the sink running. He heard the water stop and after a minute the door opened revealing his America. England smiled inwardly at that thought. 'Huh… my America. I like that.'
America grinned seeing England awake. "Morning sleepin' beauty." America walked over to the bed and sat down next to the emerald-eyed Briton. "What do you want to do today, Artie." England immediately smacked him upside the head as soon as he finished talking. "Ow! What was that for?" America winced at the pain from the attack. 'For a small guy, he sure can hit.'
England frowned and crossed his arms. "I told you not to call me that." After saying that, England yawned and brought a hand up to cover his mouth. Afterwards he brought his arms above his head and stretched, his back popping up along the spine. America was staring at England; more specifically he was staring at the exposed skin of his stomach which had been revealed when England's shirt had risen up while he was stretching. England finished stretching and brought his arms back down, covering up the skin America had been ogling.
"Are we going to be staying in-?" England didn't get to finish his question as America had pushed him down onto the bed, while propping himself on his arms so as not to crush the man below, he began to hungrily kiss the Briton. America ran his hand underneath England's shirt and would have proceeded with more had the Brit not start to giggle. This giggling turned into full out laughter as America ran his hand along England's side rather lightly. America pulled away to admire the look of happiness across England's face.
"St-stop it! Th-that tickles! Yo-you bloody w-wanker!" England laughed as America straddled him and continued to tickle his sides. America laughed alongside the Brit; although not so hard to where he couldn't breathe which is what was happening to England. "C-can't-t breathe. G-get o-off." He was hardly able to get out in between fits of laughter.
"Never! You have to call me your hero!" America demanded, he held England's arms above his head with one hand and with the other continued tickling the man. America liked the sound of England's laugh, it was rather magical and he hadn't heard it in such a long time. He wanted to make England laugh and smile all of the time. 'He's beautiful.'
"F-fine! Yo-your my h-hero!" He stuttered out trying to gather in as much air as he could while laughing. At hearing this America stopped tickling England and waited for the Brit to gather some air into his lungs. When America saw that England was able to breathe properly, he bent down and placed a soft kiss against his lips. England stared into America's never ending blue eyes as the younger pulled away. "Why-?" England began. America looked a bit confused but didn't say anything. "Why did you…Why me?" America released his hold on England's arms and rolled over to lie next to him.
America frowned at the question. 'How am I supposed to some up why I chose him? That he means everything to me? That…That… I love him.' As America continued to think about the question England was becoming worried.
The Briton's heart clenched and he felt tears start to form. 'He isn't using me is he? That wanker I should have known I wouldn't . . . couldn't mean anything to him.' He sat up and swung his legs off of the bed angrily, ready to leave, to get away from the man who was causing him more pain, more rejection. Just as England had his feet on the ground a pair of arms encircled his waist pulling him into a warm chest.
"Wait." America breathed out against England's neck, causing a shiver down his spine. "I'm sorry. I just thought…" He stopped for a moment. "…You would have figured it out by now." America pulled them back towards the middle of the bed where he turned England around to face him. England could tell the younger was talking but honestly he couldn't focus enough to actually hear what he was saying. "Arthur? Are ya listenin' to me? Did ya hear what I said?" England tore his eyes away from the other and looked down at the bed, refusing to meet his former colony's eyes.
America put his hand underneath England's chin and forced the smaller man to look up at him. America's serious expression turned into one of worry when he saw the other's face. England hadn't realized that tears were pouring down his face, he just looked at the American; Pain evident in his emerald eyes.
"You weren't listening were you?" The question sounded more like a statement. America took a deep breath and continued on. "Arthur, I love you." England stared at the other nation, hearing what he had said that time.
A blush spread across England's face and looked down towards the bed mumbling. America had to lean in closer to try and hear what he was saying but the older nation was speaking too quietly. "Uh… What did you say?" America said confused. England spoke a little louder but America still couldn't understand what the man was saying. "Seriously, man, I can't understand what you're saying, speak up."
England snapped his head up and shouted at the younger boy. "I said I love you too!"
America looked startled for a moment. His expression turned into pure joy when England's words registered in his mind. America smiled down at the smaller nation. The emerald-eyed man's face flushed a bright red. England leaned forward and buried his face into the younger man's neck. America just laughed and wrapped his arms around England and pulled them down onto the bed.
After a few moments England pulled back a bit the question the American. "Are we ever going to be getting out of bed today?" America smiled, bringing his hands up and cupped each side of England's face; pulling him down into a kiss.
"I take that as a no." England mumbled in between kisses. America just chuckled and continued to kiss the older nation. England smiled into the kiss and knew he would be wanted and loved as long as he could be wrapped up in his American's arms away from the troubles and annoyances of the rest of the world.