This is written for ImaduckQuaQua for guessing what "England's" profession(?) was in MTMTE. I hope you enjoy it! Oh, and a special thank you to those who helped me come up with this by giving me ideas! I love you guys! Some warnings then; bad grammar probably, OC:India, historical and cultural inaccuracies big time, and maybe some swearing, random switching between human and nation names since i'm scatterbrained, and i'm not sure really what else.
Inglaida is England in Hindi and Amerika is America in Hindi.
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.
India prided herself in being a very patient woman. She had lived through famine after famine, colonization by a very imperialistic man, and more. She could remember her people oppressed and suffering under the British reign. And yet, today, she didn't bear any animosity towards her former colonizer. Their relationship now was actually very good both keeping a firm friendship with the other and both could genuinely say that they cared for the well being of the other. She was also one of the few people who the usually reserved Brit was willing to open up to about his feelings towards a certain American. It was common knowledge how England felt towards America to everyone except America. England just wasn't willing to talk about it to anyone except India and select others. So watching the two have yet another shouting match over some trivial matter at a world meeting was an expected event. As India's dark eyes took in the scene before her she finally resolved to help the man who used to take care of her.
"That stupid git, my cooking is not toxic waste. He wouldn't know gourmet cooking if it landed in his mouth with all that grease he eats!" brooded England as he unlocked the door to his hotel room.
"Yet you can't help but love him isn't that right Inglainda?" this caused the Englishman to look up at the speaker who was standing behind him. He smiled at the sight of the dark-skinned woman.
"Hullo India, it's been a long time since we've talked," he opened the door and invited her inside. Once settled down both with cups of tea India began to speak again.
"You never answered my question," a sigh was emitted from the male.
"You very well know the answer to that question. I daresay I've never understood why I love him,"
"Now you're lying to yourself," lilted the female with a smirk. The man put down his tea and rubbed his hands over his face.
"He doesn't even care about me with the way he always seems to point out my faults. I know very well I'm not perfect but I don't want to hear him tell me everyday," India only hummed. She wasn't so sure America really was as spiteful as England made him out to be. Everyone could plainly see how he would go out of his way to catch the attention of the older male and how he would brighten up every time the green eyes were on him. India slowly drank her beverage as she watched the European nation in front of her continue to brood. She suddenly had an idea.
"Inglainda, didn't you once mention that Amerika had some sort of attachment to Hollywood?" bushy eyebrows furrowed at this.
"Yes, that wanker is such a hopeless romantic sometimes," India didn't miss the endearing fondness that was laced underneath the clipped tone.
"Well then, I came hear to talk to you about possibly coming to watch a performance, I would like it if both you and Amerika came." England looked surprised at this,
"Why would you want him of all people to come?"
"I want to show him something he doesn't have," well that wasn't entirely a lie, she really did want to knock him down a peg or two and this was a good opportunity. England took the bait.
"Alright then, what time will it be at?"
"Next Saturday if that's alright with you."
"We'll be there, it's at the usual place right?" India nodded and got up to get ready to leave. England, ever the gentleman, walked her to her room. As soon as she got inside she took out her phone and started dialing numbers
"Hello, yes, this is me, I'll be needing a group to perform with me for next Saturday…"
"Where are we going Iggy?" whined a blond-haired blue-eyed nation to a very grumpy green-eyed one. Both briskly walking down a very crowded street in India.
"I told you already Alfred, India invited the both of us to watch a dance she choreographed, and don't call me Iggy!"
"I bet it's not as good as So You think You Can Dance!" retorted the American. England could feel a vessel pop at that remark and tried to keep calm.
"I'll have you know that there is nothing you have that could remotely compare to what she can do when it comes to dance." Responded England unconsciously making America more irritated with India than he already was. First she makes me lose my Saturday to watch her dance when I could be doing better things like play video games, and then she steals the attention of my Iggy! Alfred then mentally slapped himself at referring to England as his. After all, even though he loved Arthur, that didn't necessarily mean he did too, especially since neither of them had admit it to the other yet.
"We're here," Alfred looked up to find a fairly large building with large domed roofs. He had been here before a few times, it was India's house. England knocked on the door and was greeted by someone who was most likely a maid of some sort who led the two men inside.
"I'll go announce your arrival and then come get you, please make yourself comfortable in the meantime." The girl said in perfect English, she had obviously been through this kind of thing before. The two men sat down in chairs and waited. An awkward silence settled on them.
"So," Alfred broke the silence, "Do you and India do this kind of thing often?"
"If you mean invite each other to events then yes, we do,"
"Why though? You don't with me,"
"That's because she…"Arthur couldn't admit it was because he was too embarrassed to ever ask Alfred to go with him anywhere (it would seem too much like a date). Alfred didn't let him finish the thought.
"I'm cooler than her, but then again someone your age probably can't handle my heroicness!" Just as England was about to yell at him, the girl game back.
"She's ready to begin," the three-some walked down the hall into a pitch-black room and the girl left. As soon as they entered however, lights of different colors illuminated the space and an exotic melody pulsated throughout the room. The two men were suddenly met with dozens of people in colorful garments dancing and singing along to the upbeat music. In the middle was India swaying her hips and waving her arms along with the others. What the Fuck? Was exactly what was going through America's mind right now. He had seen this kind of thing on TV before but actually seeing it in real life with real authentic professionals was really something else. The music was a mixture of stuff he had heard before and most likely traditionally folk music. Arthur seemed to be enjoying it and had a pleased smile on his face. That was, until India grabbed him by the arm and dragged him behind a curtain where several people promptly stripped him and outfitted him in something he would have never worn on his own. As soon as he was dressed they pushed him out.
When Alfred was able to finally finish processing what just happened he noticed Arthur's new attire; he was wearing thin loose pants that hung low on his hips and no shirt, just a small-unbuttoned vest exposing his alabaster skin to all. Everything was a pale green and the clothes both complemented his figure and brought out his eyes beautifully. Alfred could feel his face heat up at the sight.
"Dance Arthur!" shouted India as she continued to drag England around,
"Bloody hell! Why should I?" India gave him a look and then gestured at the now blushing America with her eyes. What does she…? Oh…OH! Well then. England could feel himself also turn red; America was blushing because of how he was dressed. Now he understood why India wanted both him and America to be here. She was playing matchmaker. What the hell, he gave in and decided to go with her plans. He began to dance, mimicking the other dancers. After spending so long with India he could dance just as well as any professional. Everyone started to dance faster as the music increased in tempo and India checked to see if the Brit was having any trouble. She really didn't need to. England was already completely lost in the music swaying his hips and gliding along with the beat without even taking notice of his audience. India smiled; the British man had such an attachment for music, even when he was so reserved during the Victorian era music and dance could bring out a different side of him. Her grin got bigger when she noticed how the American was gaping.
Is this really Arthur? Wondered the American as his cerulean eyes absorbed every detail of the English nation. He watched in awe as England's limbs cut through the air with grace, as pearls of sweat shined upon the man's torso and face, as golden locks illuminated by light ruffled with each sway, and as green eyes seemed to both darken with color and shine with a carefree light. Alfred could feel himself become more and more uncomfortably warm as he just stupidly stood there watching. He also felt a pang of envy towards India for knowing this side of the island nation when he had no idea. Suddenly the music stopped and it seemed as if a trance had been lifted from England. The man had just realized exactly what he was doing and blushed a bright red. Mortified, he saw America there with his eyes practically glued to him.
Bloody hell, has he been watching the whole time? If he has then…Oh dear lord what must he think of me now? What was I doing thinking this would somehow work? Without even changing clothes the man charged past everyone and bolted out of the room. After realizing what just happened Alfred chased after him. India merely assured her backup that nothing needed to be done as she nonchalantly took a seat feeling very proud of herself.
Arthur didn't realize he was running blindly until he crashed quite literally into a fence. Somehow he had managed to run out of the house and into India's backyard garden. As he braced himself for the inevitable fall to the ground strong arms caught him.
"How are you so fast Iggy?" the American panted, he was fast and he never expected the Brit to be even faster than him. England was silent, shocked at the other's presence. He stood up and turned to face America.
"Why did you follow me out here? Are you going to laugh at me now? Well go ahead then, you always do!" he was suddenly defensive. After generations of teasing he knew that was most likely all that he was going to get. It never came.
America felt a little guilty and a little hurt when he realized how his former caretaker viewed him. He tried to say something nice, "You looked pretty weird dancing up there!" Shit, that was not what he wanted to say. Green eyes glowed with anger and pain.
"Sh-shut up America! I already know you hate me and just think I'm some stodgy old man who can't even cook!" England was looking at the ground now and his whole body was trembling.
"No that's not what I wanted to say!"
"Then what did you want to say America?"
"You dancing just makes me feel weird okay? You just looked frickin' hot and those clothes and stupid India and…dammit," Alfred's bad habit of rambling had kicked in and before he could stop it he had already said what was in his mind. Arthur wasn't sure if he had heard correctly, was it really possible Alfred felt the same way he did?
"America, did you just…?" England could see a blush erupt on the taller man's face and he could feel one of his own start to creep on. America mumbled something incomprehensive. "What?" America was becoming frustrated with himself, this wasn't a very heroic way to act!
"I-I…"
"Just spit it out already!" England was becoming impatient
"Iloveyou OK?" England could feel his own face burn with heat. America looked away not sure of what to expect.
"I-I do too git," America's eyes widened and his face cracked into a huge grin as he tackled the now blushing, flustered, and not to mention adorable man.
"This is just awesome!"
"America you're starting to sound like Prussia,"
"I'm way more awesome than him!" Arthur sighed. It didn't seem like Alfred would ever shut up, even in this kind of situation. Having already tuned out whatever nonsense he was blabbing now Arthur took a good look at Alfred's face, He really did grow up nicely didn't he? Slowly he inched his face towards the other's. While he softly caressed the American's cheek with a hand he lightly pressed his lips on to Alfred's.
"You talk far too much Alfred," and then proceeded to kiss the man again this time with more passion. The other returned the favor eagerly, hands moving along the Englishman's torso towards the exposed skin under the vest. He would have to thank India later.
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