Like, Sweet Nothings
Title: Like, Sweet Nothings
Originally posted: 1/30/2009, on the kink meme. Link
Length: 710 words.
Characters/Pairings: US, Poland.
Premise: Poland, like, totally just wanted to see Liet, so what is this guy's problem?
Time period: Modern? Or 1920s? Really, it's pure crack.
Smuttiness: 0/10
Funnyness: 8/10
Wrist slashiness: 0/10
Lolhistoryness: 0/10
Violence: 0/10
Would I like it?: If you think Poland is inherently hilarious, yes. Otherwise, maybe not.
Poland knocked on America's door, tapped his foot, twirled his hair, snapped his gum, then coughed and inadvertently popped a bubble over his nose when the door opened and he stared.
"Mrrfl," he managed.
The shaggy horror at the door raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight. "Unh?"
Poland pawed the gum off his face and threw it into the hedge. "Like, who are you!"
A bleary, myopic blink. "…Buh?"
"Oh my God--America? Your face is like--you are so totally--" he stumbled down a step.
America grimaced into the pale gleam of sunlight. "What? I couldn't find my glasses. And I haven't brushed my hair. And it's six in the morning. I'm not a…morning person, really...what do you want?" He braced himself against the door frame.
"Dude, like…no, not even. There is not being a morning person, and then there is, like, this…that is like, some noneuclidean bed head! You are so totally un-cute right now!" Poland's hands came up in front of him and made a sign of the cross.
"Well it's probably not contagious," he replied nastily. "What did you want?"
"Oh…yeah…" Poland pressed one hand to his heart and collected himself. "I was just, like, here to see Liet. You know? So like, take me to him and everything."
"He's asleep."
Poland flicked his hair back over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. "So wake him up, duh."
America looked affronted. "No. He has the day off. Just come back in a--"
"America, you are like, totally harshing my mellow right now, okay? Like, oh my God."
The other man grimaced, hung his head, and drummed his fingers on the door frame. "Nobody is awake. Nobody decent in this entire time zone is awake! Go away! Go get a McMuffin or something and come back in--"
"Ugh!" Poland folded his arms in a huff. He eyed America sidelong for a moment. "Okay, I'm like…fully sorry about what I said before."
"Poland…"
"You are like, not even hideous! It's kind of a…uh…shaggy-chic thing, actually! You could totally start a trend!"
"Poland…"
"It was just, uh…shit…the, like, the color of the house! Yeah! This yellow is like, totally bad for your complexion under this light, you know? So I was just like, oh my God, but now it's like, yeah! Totally! Because, like, my eyes have adjusted? And stuff? To the…anyway, and it's like, duh, you are so obviously hot."
"…Go on."
Poland flipped his hair again and planted one hand on his hip. "'Cause it's like, you're a summer, you know? And summers, like, you are so lucky, you can get away with wearing, like, anything. All that, you know, that red, and white, and blue, and shit? In your wardrobe? Totally suits you! You pull it off, like--" his voice dropped confidentially. "Like, don't pass this along or anything, that would be way uncool, but it looks so better on you than on Francis. I mean, for real."
America stood up a bit taller.
"And like, your bone structure! Oh my God! I would so kill for cheekbones like yours. It makes you look, like, totally sexy--but not JUST sexy, it's like--sexy, but then like, all mysterious and shit? I am being so totally sincere right now. I mean, God. Swoon. For real."
America coughed and straightened his shirt.
Poland slung an arm around his shoulders and stuck his face close to America's, one eyebrow cocked. "I wasn't gonna say anything, but…the other nations? They are so into you. I know, right?! It's so obvious! It's like, hello, yeah, of course you'd bang him, so like, stop staring, you're totally embarassing yourselves! I mean, it's not like they can help it, since you're like, so hot and everything, but I just feel sorry for them. Like, especially Canada. And Japan. And…England?" he watched for America's reaction. "Yeah, like, definitely England. You should go for it, seriously!"
"You think?" he sounded pleased.
"I like, totally fucking swear. You have no idea."
A few beats passed.
"So like…can I see Liet?"
"What?" America started. "Oh. Yeah. Second floor. First door on the right."
Poland breezed past him with a pat on the shoulder. "Bitchin'. Stay gorgeous, you know?"
"Yeah…" America mumbled after him, bemused.
Originally posted: 1/30/2009, on the kink meme. Link
Length: 710 words.
Characters/Pairings: US, Poland.
Premise: Poland, like, totally just wanted to see Liet, so what is this guy's problem?
Time period: Modern? Or 1920s? Really, it's pure crack.
Smuttiness: 0/10
Funnyness: 8/10
Wrist slashiness: 0/10
Lolhistoryness: 0/10
Violence: 0/10
Would I like it?: If you think Poland is inherently hilarious, yes. Otherwise, maybe not.
Poland knocked on America's door, tapped his foot, twirled his hair, snapped his gum, then coughed and inadvertently popped a bubble over his nose when the door opened and he stared.
"Mrrfl," he managed.
The shaggy horror at the door raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight. "Unh?"
Poland pawed the gum off his face and threw it into the hedge. "Like, who are you!"
A bleary, myopic blink. "…Buh?"
"Oh my God--America? Your face is like--you are so totally--" he stumbled down a step.
America grimaced into the pale gleam of sunlight. "What? I couldn't find my glasses. And I haven't brushed my hair. And it's six in the morning. I'm not a…morning person, really...what do you want?" He braced himself against the door frame.
"Dude, like…no, not even. There is not being a morning person, and then there is, like, this…that is like, some noneuclidean bed head! You are so totally un-cute right now!" Poland's hands came up in front of him and made a sign of the cross.
"Well it's probably not contagious," he replied nastily. "What did you want?"
"Oh…yeah…" Poland pressed one hand to his heart and collected himself. "I was just, like, here to see Liet. You know? So like, take me to him and everything."
"He's asleep."
Poland flicked his hair back over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. "So wake him up, duh."
America looked affronted. "No. He has the day off. Just come back in a--"
"America, you are like, totally harshing my mellow right now, okay? Like, oh my God."
The other man grimaced, hung his head, and drummed his fingers on the door frame. "Nobody is awake. Nobody decent in this entire time zone is awake! Go away! Go get a McMuffin or something and come back in--"
"Ugh!" Poland folded his arms in a huff. He eyed America sidelong for a moment. "Okay, I'm like…fully sorry about what I said before."
"Poland…"
"You are like, not even hideous! It's kind of a…uh…shaggy-chic thing, actually! You could totally start a trend!"
"Poland…"
"It was just, uh…shit…the, like, the color of the house! Yeah! This yellow is like, totally bad for your complexion under this light, you know? So I was just like, oh my God, but now it's like, yeah! Totally! Because, like, my eyes have adjusted? And stuff? To the…anyway, and it's like, duh, you are so obviously hot."
"…Go on."
Poland flipped his hair again and planted one hand on his hip. "'Cause it's like, you're a summer, you know? And summers, like, you are so lucky, you can get away with wearing, like, anything. All that, you know, that red, and white, and blue, and shit? In your wardrobe? Totally suits you! You pull it off, like--" his voice dropped confidentially. "Like, don't pass this along or anything, that would be way uncool, but it looks so better on you than on Francis. I mean, for real."
America stood up a bit taller.
"And like, your bone structure! Oh my God! I would so kill for cheekbones like yours. It makes you look, like, totally sexy--but not JUST sexy, it's like--sexy, but then like, all mysterious and shit? I am being so totally sincere right now. I mean, God. Swoon. For real."
America coughed and straightened his shirt.
Poland slung an arm around his shoulders and stuck his face close to America's, one eyebrow cocked. "I wasn't gonna say anything, but…the other nations? They are so into you. I know, right?! It's so obvious! It's like, hello, yeah, of course you'd bang him, so like, stop staring, you're totally embarassing yourselves! I mean, it's not like they can help it, since you're like, so hot and everything, but I just feel sorry for them. Like, especially Canada. And Japan. And…England?" he watched for America's reaction. "Yeah, like, definitely England. You should go for it, seriously!"
"You think?" he sounded pleased.
"I like, totally fucking swear. You have no idea."
A few beats passed.
"So like…can I see Liet?"
"What?" America started. "Oh. Yeah. Second floor. First door on the right."
Poland breezed past him with a pat on the shoulder. "Bitchin'. Stay gorgeous, you know?"
"Yeah…" America mumbled after him, bemused.