"America… I have something I need to tell you…"

England was sitting across a wooden foldable garden table. Sipping a very milky and sweet tea out of a cheap white Ikea mug. He was staring into the light brown liquid.

He hated weak tea.

But for once, he didn't comment, he had more pressing matters on hand.

"Sure Iggy! Go ahead!"

America shoved a whole hamburger into his mouth. Tomato ketchup spilled out of the end onto his hand, the American didn't seem to notice.

As per usual, he had failed to note the tone in England's voice or his body language. But that was typical America. What was strange was the fact England had not scolded him upon the nickname or his appalling table manners. And instead was lost in thought.

England sighed once again. Wondering how to break this to America.

"America…"

The man in question shoved another hamburger into his mouth.

The words came tumbling out of his mouth, so fast he barley knew what he was saying.

"When you were a child I used to touch you."

"Sorry Iggy didn't catch that!"

America had just finished his milkshake, creating a large slurping noise that drowned out England's voice.

England raised his voice slightly, not load enough for them to be overheard. The café's patio was deserted anyway.

"I used to touch you." A dark flush creeped into his cheeks, he could feel the heat crawling up his neck. He hung his head lower.

"Aww Iggy! You loved me? That's so sweet! Anyway, got to go."

He stuffed a hand full of chips into his gob then got up, leaving England with the bill and his sup of tea.