The Green Movement was big these days.
Global Warming, solar power, fossil fuels, greenhouse gases, nonrenewable resources; all of it was becoming nothing short of a huge headache for England, and as such, he had taken to simply ignoring it. The nations were all meeting in Germany for this years Environmental Betterment Conference, but England might as well have been on the moon for how much he was paying attention and contributing.
So far, in the two hours or so that he had been trapped in that God-forsaken room, he had noticed that Ukraine was trying a new brand of compression bra, Sweden had supplied some delightfully comfortable new chairs for conference room three, and that there was a smudge on the east wall of the room that bared a striking resemblance to Martin Freeman.
Oh, and America was trying out a new brand of aftershave of something, because he smelled divine.
And no, England was not going to feel guilty about having perverted thoughts during the conference, thank you very much. He made that comment about the benefits of recycling a half hour ago...he earned a little happy time, too.
And blimey, was America making this one hell of a happy time.
Something about that boy was different that day, and for the life of England, he just couldn't pinpoint what. It was almost like, rather than a good hair day, he was having a good everything day. His suit was pressed and fitted, his tie was straight and tasteful, his hair was combed but natural, and his glasses were alined and clean.
It was like someone went right inside England's wet dreams, yanked America out of them, and plopped him across the table with a fresh shave and shiny shoes.
Absently, he started to ponder how much weight Sweden's chairs could hold at a time. Would they, for example, be able to hold two personified nations engaged is some serious, R-rated snogging? Better go with the table just to be safe.
He could see it now, America sweeping the array of papers, pie charts, and statistics out of the way and crawling across the glass toward him, a feral, animal smirk gracing his lips. He would yank England up with him on the table by his tie, then rip it out from under his collar with his teeth. England, of course, would lose it then, launching at the younger nation and attacking his mouth with his own.
"England," America would moan, almost possessively. "Oh England, England..."
"WHAT?" England cried, snapping out of his daydream and finding, to his horror, that his face had turned a delightful pink and that his pants now fit a bit snugly.
Germany was glaring at him from the head of the table, his arms crossed and his eyebrows furrowed. He gestured curtly toward his powerpoint. "We are waiting for your opinion on the recent decline in endangered organisms in Africa."
"O-oh, right, of course," he mumbled, absently fumbling around with his papers in a vain attempt to act like he wasn't just daydreaming about getting it on with America on various pieces of IKEA furniture. "I-I find the decline in orgasms—ORGANISMS, I find the decline of the organisms to be rather cocking—SHOCKING. I-I grope—HOPE, HOPE! Oh bloody hell."
Somehow, over France and America's hysterical laughter, England heard Japan clearing his throat and politely changing the subject. He buried his head in his arms on that goddamn table with a miserable moan.
England hated the Green Movement.
Hahahaha, I don't even know you guys. As a teacher, it's like, my biggest fear ever that some science lesson, I'm going to say orgasms instead of organisms and that is pretty much what spawned this disaster. XD I hope it at least got a chuckle and smile out of you, if nothing else! XD