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England/America. America notices England getting closer to other nations, and one day after the meeting is long over and he thought everyone left, he starts to cry over England in the empty meeting room. England catches him and secretly listens, then walks in when America is done talking to himself. I would like to see a lot of fluff here! If you would like to include angst go ahead, but I would like a happy ending. Smut is optional.I t ’ s o k a y f o r h e r o e s t o c r y a t t i m e s t o o ( ... )
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- - -
The next time England managed to surprise America was during the next meeting.
England was teaming up with Germany - they were reasoning some point about the global warming blah blah together. America hadn’t really paid attention to the idea itself when England had stood up for Germany, who presented the idea, and agreed with him and tried to get the other nations to understand the importance of it too ( ... )
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America grinned confidently at himself and fiddled with a pen in his other hand while the other was holding the phone against his ear. After the last meeting he had come to the result that if England had always so much plans after the UN meetings, he would just have to get him spend time with him on his free time.
And he was a hero, after all, he wouldn’t give up so easily! And England just could NOT turn this invitation down!
”..Hello America.” America could almost hear England’s voice in his mind, preaching about proper ways to start a conversation over the phone and his grin grew wider. ”And I’m sorry but I don’t have time for that today.”
The grin on America’s face didn’t subside at all - England was always like this, saying he didn’t have time and that he had to do work but agreeing to come over in the end - and he opened his mouth, ready to ( ... )
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America waited it more than enthusiastically, because no doubt England would get totally drunk - like always when he get his hands on alcohol - and he never failed to proclaim in a loud voice how America was an ungrateful brat and babble some other rubbish and bother the American the whole night. This usually somewhat annoyed America (although he had gotten used to it, really), but not tonight; tonight he was sure he would be in the center of England’s attention and he didn’t really care if it meant he would get yelled at.
So when he was sitting next to the bar counter, alone, and England was sitting a few stools away from him, totally wasted as America had predicted, and chatting and laughing loudly with Prussia of all people (that guy wasn’t even a country anymore for god’s sake!!), he couldn’t understand anything at all anymore ( ... )
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He missed England and he wanted his attention back, he wanted those amazingly green eyes to properly look at him again. He felt so abandoned.
Usually he was very careful when glancing at England during the meetings (he couldn’t let the other man notice how he adored him with his eyes, of course) but now he didn’t really care, and he simply stared at the said Englishman while idly leaning his other cheek to his palm.
And seriously, the last straw that made the insides of his stomach turn upside down was the sight of England and France, fucking France talking with each other calmly, almost friendly. No yelling, no hitting or kicking, no fighting and there was even a playful smirk on England’s face ( ... )
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After the meeting he remained on his seat and slowly collected his papers into a pile while the other nations left the meeting room, chatting vividly with each other and plannig to go for a cup of coffee in the conference building’s café or something else America didn’t want to hear. He vaguely noticed England leaving the room with Lithuania, talking calmly and smiling that beautiful smile of his - the smile America wanted to be directed at him and him only, his smile ( ... )
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But the Englishman didn’t laugh at America or mock him for being weak (and unheroic), but instead tightened his hug. ”Y-you bloody moron..! W… why didn’t you say anything?!” Wait, was England crying too..?
”S.. say..?”
”What you said j-just moments ago!”
America sniffed and opened his mouth, but froze. Wait, wait - England had HEARD it all?! A-and now he was crying..?! ”I.. I thought y-you.. d-didn’t care ( ... )
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The next night proved America wrong, however.
When he woke up early in the morning next day he couldn’t remember why he was feeling so happy at first. The memories from yesterday (and especially the evening/night) returned to his mind soon though and he couldn’t help a smile.
”Morning..” The reason for his happiness mumbled sleepily from his side. America glanced down and met two bleary but fabulously green eyes peering at him. He smiled at England, snuggled close to his bare chest, and reached to press an affectionate kiss on his forehead before pulling his warm body closer to him.
”Morning, beautiful.” America almost purred and buried his face to Engalnd’s hair. He could feel the older man chuckle warmly and plant a kiss on his chest.
”Beautiful my arse.”
”But you are beautiful!”
”Oh whatever America. I don’t have the strenght to argue with you so early in the morning.”
”And after such a busy and hot night.”
”S-shut it!” America grinned at himself - he could basically feel the heat rising to England’s cheeks ( ... )
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Also: the heartbreak is for how awesome this is.
Now I'm a little ashamed to finish and post mine XD
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Americanon knows who you are, btw. Guess you know who this is. :p
Also, writer!anon, this was really good. The right amount of fluff and angst. <3
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And thanks >u< I'm so glad you liked it!
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Of course you made it better later with that "beautiful my arse". Oh yes, England, it is 8D /is not very mature.
But seriously. This is the kind of fic to read when your mood is down. Thank you, author!non ♥.
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