Summary: Surely America's denseness has to come from someone. But that someone is too dense to realize that. USUK
"Sorry. I have a date so… Bye!"
With that the bespectacled self-proclaimed hero left England in a shock and surprised state. "D-date?" Thick eyebrows frowned in annoyance. "Bloody hell! It's been a long time since I came over to his house and he just up and leave me here just to go to his…date? AHHH! ASDFJKL I swear I'm never visiting him again." He muttered in annoyance.
He lifted his suit case from the table and decided to leave for good but a thought struck him. Hn why am I even mad anyway? I-it's not like I want to spend the day with him. I mean, there's still tomorrow so it's ok. More importantly, America is actually going out with someone.
No, no! I'm not depressed or anything that he's seeing a woman, probably with long skinny legs and blonde hair. I-I guess it's about time that he does look for someone special to him. Someone…special. To him. His chest tightened at the thought. A bitter smile crossed his face as he distractedly scratched the back of his head. Haha bollocks! What am I thinking? I should support him in this kind of situation instead of mulling over the past. England puffed out a breath. It's decided! I'll make sure America and his date will have a good time!
"And just what am I doing here, l'Anglettere?" asked a disappointed France who's looking out of place inside the McDonald's establishment. "Didn't you ask me out on a date?"
The green-eyed man banged his right arm on the table loudly, causing the neighboring customers to divert their attention to them. "I didn't ask you out, frog!" he sneered. "I only told you to get your arse here as fast as you could."
"Big brother is hurt!" The country of love clutched his heart. "How could you toy with my fragile heart? I really thought we're spending our time together intimately. But what a shock! I never expected you to be a fan of this greasy junk food." He gestured on their order of two cheese burgers, regular fries, and monster coke float.
"Belt up, France!" growled the offended Brit. "It's not that I particularly like eating in this food chain. And what's with your get up anyway?" he glared at the taller man's fancy clothing; it was too eye-catching for their agenda today. England pulled out his magic wand inside his green jacket and with a flick of his wrist, a hat and tinted eye-glasses popped out of thin air. "Here. Put them on."
"EHH? Why should big brother wear these? They're so outdated. I don't want to cover my beautiful face. It'd be a sin to the world."
"Stop complaining. Just put-"
"Welcome to McDonald's." One of the staff greeted.
"Ahh~ the smell of burgers is making me hungrier!" said a familiar voice.
"Isn't that l'Amerique? Ameri-!"
Before France could draw out America's attention, England managed to gag the older man's mouth with fries, also putting the glasses and hat on the process. "Mmmphh hnngjmpg mmphgh!"
"Damn it, France! Just shut the hell up and help me out here. America is on a date!" That got the bearded man's attention. "A-and it's not like I'm spying on them or anything. It's just that I want to make sure they have a good time. Make their date smooth, romantic, along those lines. And since you're the country of love, you are more knowledgeable on this matter." England didn't realize he's babbling on and he blushed furiously when France was looking at him with a big smirk on his face. He looked away immediately, still flustered.
"I can't believe the pervert ambassador is asking me for help on his ex-colony's love life." He got a kick on the leg for that. "I get it. I get it. I'll help but… are you sure about this?"
"Huh?" England responded with one raised eyebrow.
France just shook his head. And you say America is a blockhead. "Rien, mon cher."
"That sodding git. He's eating too many burgers! Just how many pieces did he buy?"
France felt like hurling for real. "I don't want to know. I'm feeling sick from watching him gobble those things. I'm surprised his date hasn't even left him yet."
"Tsk. That guy really doesn't know how to treat women. How can he be so insensitive? Look! The lady doesn't look impressed at all!"
"Ah poor l'Amerique. Just where did he learn such pathetic dating technique?"
"Oi, frog. Are you provoking me?"
"Agh! I can't take it anymore! France, what do you suggest we do about this?"
"Hn… Ah! How about if the lady accidentally pours her drink on her chest? Then America will surely come to her rescue like a prince on a white horse as he lends his Armani handkerchief to wipe her wet top and finally offering his favorite bomber jacket to hide the left stain."
"Oh I like that idea! Let's go with that."
And so England flicked his magic wand.
"Kyaaah!" a girly scream broke out a few tables away from the two countries' location.
"Whoa you're so wet, Mary," they heard America said. France looked like he's about to burst out laughing. England could only face palm. His ex-colony got no tact at all.
"Here have some tissues. Wipe them before they stain your clothes." He pulled out crumpled McDonald tissues from his jacket's inner pocket and handed them to her with a beaming smile as if he had done a very good deed. "If you want to use the rest room, it's over there." The woman named Mary excused herself and she stood up with a grim expression on her face. America continued munching on his burgers and slurping his coke float. "Ok!" He even gave her a thumbs-up.
"Mon Dieu, l'Anglaterre. Just how did you bring up that former colony of yours?" the French man asked his companion after a stupefied silence.
"What do you mean, you fag? I'm a gentleman. I never treated my women like that."
France snorted. "Then how do you explain his behavior?"
"How the hell should I-"
BRRRRR. BRRRRR. BRRRRR.
England took out his phone and checked the caller ID. His eyes widened a fraction before pink hue tinted his usually pale cheeks. Noticing this France tilted his head to catch the name on the mobile screen. Ah
"Shouldn't you answer that?" France said with a teasing tone. But when he was greeted with a glare and a firm 'no', he shook his head. "But why not, mon cher?"
Hmph. There's no good reason for him to be calling right now. He's in the middle of a date, for Pete's sake! Just what is on hi- Ah wait! What if it he's calling to ask for help? Like "England! Help me! It seems like I upset my date. What should I do?" or "My date locked herself in the restroom. Should I burst the door open?" Just when he's about to answer the call, it stopped.
"Hn? It stopped vibrating. It must not be important then." The French remarked. He looked over America's lone figure not far away from them. Their target seemed to be still fiddling with his phone.
England's phone vibrated again. This time, it was a text message.
Subject: Date is B-O-R-I-N-G
Wer r u? U ddnt fly bck 2 ur place, dd u?
"Now that is just rude! How could l'Amerique think of her that way? He should be grateful that she still hasn't dumped him! Ah and she's cute too! With her wavy blonde hair and rosy cheeks. Her figure can top any model too." France, who loved indiscriminately, complained after reading the text. "Such a waste. Don't you think so, mon ami?" When he didn't get a verbal response, he wasn't surprised to see that England had gone off to his own lalaland. Just what was France doing here again? These two should just hook up! "l'Anglettere, are you or are you not going to reply to that?"
That jolted back England to reality. "H-huh? I won't. If he's going to be worried now after leaving me at his house, then he shouldn't have done it in the first place." Ahhh is this the tsundere thing I heard from Nihon?
"Well whatever. Hmm? His date is back. I think she's asking if they can go to a clothing store for new clothes."
"Agh. I don't want to follow them inside any girly-looking establishment."
France seemed pumped up at the idea though. "That's why your relationships don't last long."
"What did you say, you damn frog?" England took hold of the older man's collar and shook him harshly. He stopped immediately and pretended to take a bite on his cold burger when the couple stood up and left the establishment. "Tsk. Let's stop fighting for today and get back to our real mission."
France fixed his appearance before giving a suffering sigh. "Oui."
"Since you vehemently refused to go inside the apparel shop, we might as well think of a plan to make their date perfect."
England crossed his arms and burrowed his thick eyebrows in contemplation, purposely ignoring France's teasing remark. "How about something exciting for the both of them?"
That got the French's attention. "Honhon~ We can kidnap them and lock them inside a hotel room? I'm sure even l'Amerique will get-"
"That's not the kind of excitement I'm referring to, you daft!" The short-haired man didn't like the idea of his former colony and the unknown woman sleeping together. He didn't know why but the mere mental image set his blood in cold rage.
"You asked me, l'Anglettere." France huffed as his suggestion was shot down. He didn't even get to the good part. "If we're talking about our cute l'Amerique, then I guess we have to imitate one of his typical chick flick." Ah even he didn't want to go that far. "Or one of his sci fi movies with robots and explosions?"
"No, I think we should make it as normal as possible. We can get some ideas from his romance genre movies. Like…" England tried to dig some interesting scenarios from the chick flicks he had to watch with America when the younger man would visit his abode. "I know! Let's wait for them to exit the shop. Then we make the girl trip her footing so that the sodding git catches her in the nick of time!"
"Oh! That sounds brilliant~ And if l'Amerique plays his cards right, he might land a kiss on her supple lips, no?" France looked all fired up, conspicuously rubbing his hands together as he looked out for their target. Meanwhile, England became silent as he pictured in his mind what his companion had mentioned. Convincing himself that it was a really good plan, he shoved all lingering doubts at the back of his head. This time, he'd make it right.
Mary, wearing a new set of clothes, looked happy for once with her purchase. She tried to thank her date by giving him a surprise peck on the cheek when, out of incomprehensible reality, her feet got tangled. And she fell on the ground. Upon noticing this America immediately went to her rescue. "Man, you're clumsy." He mumbled, tucking his phone inside his chest pocket. "Are you hurt anywhere?" He was inspecting her feet. They didn't look injured and he sighed in relief.
"Oi l'Anglettere, that one is on purpose, isn't it? You must be secretly hating her, no?"
Green eyes flared up in indignation. "Oh bloody hell I didn't! And why do you think I hate her? That doesn't make sense!"
"Then why did you trip her when she's about to give him a kiss?"
"I didn't know she's going to kiss him, frog! I'm not a fucking psychic."
"Then you better be one if you really want this date to turn out right." France relished in the shorter man's guilt-stricken face before pacifying him. "But let's not lose hope. It seems the woman has a few tricks up her sleeves."
True to his sword, Mary pretended to wince in pain. She complained about her aching ankle and asked, in a very sweet yet pitiful voice, if America could massage her injured body part.
"She's good," France praised behind the bush. England could only glare at the scene.
"I'm sorry," America said out of nowhere. "I don't think I'm qualified to perform such action to your twisted ankle. If you want, let's call a taxi and take you to the nearest hospital to let experts examine your injury?"
Mary didn't even try to conceal the shock on her face for being brushed off easily but she recovered instantly, pretending to flinch every time she stroked her ankle. She stood up and told him she was fine already. They set off again to their next destination.
"I'm telling you this again. That is not how I treat my women." England cut off whatever biting remark France was about to say.
That is not what I wanted to say, mon cher. But France didn't bother to correct the man walking beside him. He was beginning to think that America didn't even like the girl. The bespectacled man looked like he wanted to be rid of her immediately. Moreover, he kept on fiddling with his mobile phone. Speaking of which… "Mon cher, where is your phone?"
England stared confusedly at him for a good three seconds, before answering. "It's in my pocket. I turned it off though. Why do you ask?"
Honhon~ I'm right. "Oh nothing, keep it that way, no?"
The shorter of the two kept his eyes on the couple their following. "That's what I plan to do." After some minutes passed, England began to get irritated at their long walk. "Just where is that wanker planning to go?"
His question was answered when they rounded a corner and saw a cinema theater. They followed suit after America and his date entered the establishment, ducking immediately behind a crowd of teenagers when their male target swept the inside of the room with his blue eyes. "Ah that was close," France sighed. "l'Anglettere, do you know what movie passes they bought?"
England pulled out his wand and mumbled something. Two movie tickets appeared on his left hand. "It says Alien vs America: The Sequel."
The two countries had the same forbidding expression on their faces. "Hey, do you think they'd complain if I switch the movie with Titanic?"
"Non, I don't think they would. That one is classic." France seconded. "Not the 3D, sil vous plait."
"Ack! I know!"
Upon entering the cinema, England almost tumbled when his left foot missed one step in the dark room. France snickered behind him. That earned him a smack on the head. After locating their seats which were a few rows away behind their target, the country of love discerned that America had two large boxes of popcorns and one large bottle of Mt. Dew. "The movie has not started yet and he's already half-way done with the first box of popcorns. Mon Dieu."
"The twat is helpless. Just how much junk food can he consume in one day?"
"Well he has you to thank for. You trained his tongue and stomach well to endure eating garbage." France was saved from imminent doom of Brittania beam when the film started rolling. "You were serious."
Now calm, England puffed out his chest and smirked proudly. "I believe Titanic is a better choice."
Meanwhile, some people were complaining about the unceremonious change in program. Others stayed and were actually thrilled to re-watch the romantic albeit tragic film. America's figure stood up but was held down by Mary. She convinced him, almost begging, to watch the movie. America reluctantly sat back and kept his eyes on the screen while munching his snack. Not even ten minutes passed and the two personified countries could already hear the younger nation's snore.
"Ah that was good!" hollered a young man, stretching his stiff limbs after exiting the movie theater. America's date excused herself to the bathroom to retouch her smudged make-up. Apparently she cried at the ending of Titanic and her sniffling noise had disrupted his sleep. Rubbing the lingering sleep from his eyes, he took out his phone and dialed a number. "The number you have dialed is either unattended or out of cove-" He bitterly pressed the End Call. That damn geezer. Did he turn off his phone? I hope he didn't return to London.
England sneezed, a snot dangled disgustedly on his nose. He removed an intricately embroidered handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the snot off. He sniffed again and brushed the tears away with the back of his hand. Titanic always made him cry. The case seemed to be the same with France whose eyes had become red from weeping.
"I can't believe l'Amerique just fell asleep the entire time! He could have done many passes at her but non! He slept like a log."
The shorter man sagged in exasperation. "Is this the so-called modern dating in America's standard?"
Non. I think it's because of his disinterest with the woman that he is so uncaring. But France kept his mouth shut. "Well l'Anglettere, are we putting a halt to this mission now?" And maybe get some quality time with just the two of us.
Green eyes stared at the talking pair with unreadable emotion. "No. Not yet."
The taller man sighed. He didn't know what to think of his companion anymore. Was England that dense or was he trying to prove something with himself? Either way, he sincerely hoped that eyebrows got satisfied with whatever he's trying to achieve.
They followed America and his date in a hotel restaurant. They picked their table behind a fake plant so they could spy on their target without appearing suspicious. France also freed himself at long last from the atrocious tinted eyeglasses and hat. "Ah my magnefique face~ I missed you!" He cooed his reflection on the back of the silver spoon.
Their attendant looked weirdly at the slightly long-haired man. "Ah excuse him, he has a bit problem in the head."
"Oi eyebrows! I heard that!"
"Shut up, frog!" He paid no attention to France's further verbal abuse so that he could order a proper meal. He hadn't eaten anything yet aside from a bite or two of the cheese burger earlier that day. "I'll have fish and chips, Yorkshire pudding, and a cup of freshly brewed chamomile tea."
The waiter scribbled his order then turned his attention to the other occupant of their table. France, after scrutinizing the menu, said in his pleasant voice. "I would like to have bouillabaisse, andouillette sausage, and a bottle of your best white wine, sil vous plait?"
"Noted, Sirs. Would you like a glass of water while you wait?"
"Ah that'd be wonderful, young lad." England said, eager to quench his thirst. He waited for their attendant to excuse himself before focusing his attention to the man across him. A vein popped in his head when France was eyeing heatedly the retreating form of the waiter. "You perverted fag! Don't cause a ruckus while under a covert mission!"
France snorted. "I'm merely appreciating the beauty of his behind – his firm ass and that seductive sway of his hips. Honhon~"
Thick eyebrows twitched in annoyance. "Yeah, whatever. Only look and no touch, got it?"
The French man puckered his lips. "Oui, oui." Their attendant returned with two glasses of water and excused himself again. "Well then, let's see how our young Amerique is fairing this time." He pushed aside a branch that's getting in the way. "Hn don't they look like their conversing quite happily?" When he didn't hear a verbal response, France didn't need to look at his partner-in-crime to see that England had gone all stiff and confused in his seat. Ah what should big brother do? Both of them are just so… dense in love. He waved his hand to call one of the attendant's attention.
"What can I do for you, Sir?"
The smiling French man was intently ignoring the Brit's probing eyes. "Do you happen to have a special band or something that can, I don't know, serenade a young woman?"
The attendant's eyes lit up. "We do have such service, Sir."
"Magnefique!" France clapped his hands, a gracious smile appearing in his handsome face. "Do you see the young couple over there?" He cleared the bushes aside to point America's table. The young man nodded. "Please ask the band to perform serenade music, preferably classical, for the young woman."
"Oh and put it on our tab. If her partner asks, tell them it's on the house. Merci~"
Right after their waiter left, England looked more composed when he told him, "That's fucking romantic and cheesy but whatever. If it works, then it works."
France smiled to himself. He wasn't called the country of love for nothing. And so, not even ten minutes passed, when they were enjoying their own meal, the band had appeared and played Boccherini's Quintet in D Major Op. 9. America looked baffled at first but he soon enjoyed the performance, a serene smile adoring his handsome face. He was too occupied with the music that he didn't even notice Mary had laced their hands together atop the table.
England brushed his lips with napkin, stood up, and placed a few hundred bills on their table. "l'Anglettere?"
"I'm heading back. You should too. We have accomplished our job even if it was a bit late."
Ah he must be really jealous now. "I get it. Then why don't we hit the bar? It's located a few floors down."
"Well I do owe you for today. Let's go then."
"That damn wanker! I haven't been to his place for three months and how can he just fucking toss me aside for one date? I admit it's my fault that my trip is rushed but…BUT! I'm his former mentor. I should at least take precedence, right? Oi bloody France, are you listening to me? Oi did you hear me?"
The man in question took one gulp of his tequila. "Oui, oui. He's a cruel man to desert you for one woman."
England drank his gin in one big gulp. That was probably his fifth glass. His mind was too clouded to remember the exact number. "I hate that bloody twat. He could at least pick a better match, maybe someone with bigger knockers."
"Or curvier body."
"That too. Damn it! I hope he dies in a waste bin or whatever!"
"You're drunk, mon cher."
"Put a sock in it, frog. You're the one who invited me to drink."
And I'm regretting that now. "I figured you needed some alcohol in your system. You were jealous of her, weren't you?"
England asked for a whiskey this time. "Me? Jealous?" he drowned another glass. "I'm fucking as hell not jealous." On his tenth glass, the shorter man was already crying. Literally. "Stupid America! Even though I love him very much, why did he go all independent? Now look what happened to him! He's obese!"
France, by this time, was getting drunk himself. "Hmph he'd be malnourished if he stayed by your side, eyebrows."
"What did you say, you fag? My little America used to say he loved my cooking. He always finished them! Ah actually he still eats all my cooking but he complains a lot now. Agh I want to see America. Americaaaaaaaa!"
The bartender eyed France to calm his companion down. France only flashed him a drunken smile. England was making a fool of himself. And the French man wanted to record it. He reached for his phone but in his rush to meet the Brit this morning, he had forgotten his mobile in the living room of his house. He easily took hold of England's phone and turned it on. He was about to take a photo when the phone vibrated urgently.
Without looking at the caller ID, he answered the phone in a slurred voice. "Bonjour~ France, the country of love and passion speaking."
"… France? What are you doing with Iggy's phone?" America asked after hearing the voice of a man he wasn't expecting to answer England's phone.
"Iggy…? Oh l'Amerique! What a pleasant surprise. How's your date? Are you done with your copulation?"
"Copu-WHAT?" The United States of America took a few breaths before talking again. "France, are you with Iggy now?" When he got a slurred 'oui' on the other end, he asked right away for their location. Surprisingly, or maybe he shouldn't be surprised at all, the two drunk men were drinking in the same hotel he was in at the moment. "Thanks, France. I'm on my way."
America walked hurriedly through the hallway, eager to get to his destination. Today had been a bad day – minus the fact that England arrived this morning. His boss had forced him on a blind date. He had refused countless times with the excuse of not needing any woman in his life right now. But the President said that it wasn't healthy, that kind of thinking. And so, he was ordered to meet this woman (he had already forgotten her name) and spend the whole day with her. From the moment he laid his eyes on her, he knew right away that he wouldn't like her. She was too submissive, always wanting to get his approval, concealing her real emotions. She was weak. It reminded him too much of his younger self when he used to cling on England, always asking for his undivided attention, doing everything he was told, saying yes to his every demand.
He pressed the elevator button to the bar's floor. But now the tables had turned. He was no longer the weak brat that needed protection. He had long graduated from that. And yet, he still didn't know where to stand with England. Should he be by his side, in front or maybe behind?
There was a ding. And the elevator door opened. Surely, he wouldn't settle for watching the older man's back. He had done that already for a very long time that it had been etched in his memory whether he liked it or not. See? In this dimly light room packed with many drunken high-class men and women, he could easily make out his hunched back in the counter. France was beside him.
"Fancy seeing you here, l'Amerique."
America seated on the vacant space beside the dozing England. "Whatever, France. How many glasses did he have?" He ordered himself a rum. The bartender answered him instead. "Eleven, huh?" He observed the still body and noticed his tear-stricken face. He wiped the traces of the tears and asked France what could have cause England to cry.
"Certainly not me," France responded vaguely. "Anyway, you're taking l'Anglettere home, no? I'm booking a room here." France deposited a large sum of money before he stood up and walked unsteadily to the elevator.
"Wait, France! What were you and England doing the whole day?"
The other country didn't even bother to look back. "Ask that drunk instead. Adieu~"
America scratched the back of his head. Ah he needed that rum. "Hey," he called the bartender's attention. "What was this guy grumbling when he's still awake and drunk?"
"Sorry but I don't sell out my customers." When he saw the young man's crestfallen face, he took sympathy and told him, "Well since you look like a decent guy, I'm giving you hint."
"Awesome," he beamed.
America's lips parted then closed again. He cupped his face with his two hands and breathed deeply. "I see." After a few moments passed, a small smile appeared on his face when he stroked England's naturally tousled hair. "He's lonely too, huh." He whispered to no one.
After finishing his second glass of rum, America set down a wad of dollar bills and slung the unconscious man over his shoulder.
"Hey England, I'm so happy to know that you're feeling lonely. Do you know why?" He settled the shorter man's limp body on the bed with ease. "Because I get lonely too. Especially when I don't see you for days, weeks, and months. It's unbearable."
He took off England's shoes and began unbuttoning his top. "Since we wasted this day, why don't we go on a date tomorrow?" He gently caressed the older man's face, touching lightly those thick eyebrows before slightly pinching his flushed cheeks. England didn't stir. "There's this newly opened McDonald I want to show you. I also found a cinema theater that views Titanic in HD. I know you dig that movie. You cried when we watched it for the first time."
America kissed his forehead. "So England, have a good and peaceful sleep tonight because tomorrow, we'll do lots of fun things together." He extracted himself from the bed and gently closed the door behind him. "Good night, England." I love you.
Author's Note: I am not sure what to make of this one shot. I'm aiming for a light-hearted romantic comedy USUK fanfic but I don't know if Playing Cupid fits the description. ~"~ I haven't written a fanfic for two to three years already and I'm getting rusty at this, I must admit. I try to make the characters to be in…character given the situation they're tossed in. (And if you're wondering if I'm a FrUK fan, well I don't hate the pairing. XD )
Reviews are pretty much appreciated! Thank you for reading! :)