"Really, America, you are truly obsessive about that imaginary superhero."
"I'm not obsessive!" America pouted as he struggled to keep the right side of the poster from falling while he stapled the left down.
England sighed, "It's a shame I'm dating such a fanboy. If only I knew you were such a closet nerd-"
"Hey! You have no right to say that with all the Harry Potter memorabilia you've got in your closet."
"Don't bring Harry into this!"
"Aha!" Alfred stepped back to survey his work, "What do you think?"
The elder nation looked over his tea cup at the poster with indifference, "A Superman poster. Just what every seven year old boy wants on their bedroom wall."
America shook his head, "You just don't understand greatness when you see it, England. Superman is like, one of the classics. The original, the best, and my favorite."
"Oh really? And what about those phases you get into every time Hollywood makes up yet another one of your superhero films? Hasn't Captain American Idiot just come out? I would have thought you would have been dressing up as him by now."
"Well, Captain America is awesome. And the movie was epic," Alfred looked up at the memory of the premiere, "But Superman is different. He's got a special place in my heart," he reverently placed a hand over the left side of his chest, like a pledge.
Smirking, England decided to humor him, "How so?"
America smiled hugely, "Because we're so alike of course!" The other nation could only raise an eyebrow, "Come on, you can't say you haven't seen the similarities."
"Yes, you are just like a buff alien superhero."
"Lay off the sarcasm will ya? We are, I mean, we both are heroes and we've got cowlicks. Oh and my glasses, with them I'm just some ordinary American citizen but off," America leaned over to England and whipped off his glasses, "I'm super."
A deadpan face met his gaze, "Dazzling, I'm sure."
"Okay, then," America put his glasses back on and rubbed his chin in thought, "We've got blue eyes, handsome faces, and well-defined muscles," England ignored the display of flexing muscles as he went on, "And though I can't fly, as a nation it'd be really hard to kill me. And I think I've got the strength department down."
Without any warning, he lifted England easily into his arms. England wrestled and kicked uselessly in the strong hold, "Let me down you git!"
"Not until you say I'm like Superman."
"Fine! Just let me down!"
"Didn't hear you say it~," America nuzzled his nose into England's hair.
England blushed, "You...you have certain similar qualities with Superman."
With a laugh America gently lowered the Brit. England dusted himself off as to rid himself of the recent manhandling, "With that said, Superman is, out of most superheroes, rather disappointing. Throw a green rock at the fellow and he is as weak as a baby."
America wagged his finger at England, looking at him like he was a child who didn't know any better, "Everything isn't perfect. And weaknesses aren't that bad. Superman would be boring if he didn't have some kind of weakness."
"Well if it's so grand, what's yours?"
"Easy," Alfred pulled England and touched their foreheads together, looking directly into his green eyes, "When I look into your eyes I'm," kiss, "powerless."
"That...was incredibly cheesy," but contrary to his words he couldn't hide the blush that flushed his cheeks, "How long have you been waiting to say that?"
"Decades, babe."
"Figures."
"I'd say it at least earns Superman another kiss."
England sighed in an attempt to hid the smile beginning to form on his lips, "Fine."
And Superman got his kiss.
"Wait."
"What?" America tried to hide his disappointment at being pulled from his make-out session.
"So I'm...a rock to you."
"...I guess you can put it that way."
"Well that's bloody brilliant, being compared to a damn rock."
America chuckled and pulled England closer, "If it makes you feel any better, you're the cutest rock I've ever seen."
"Git."
