This story is written for Laruna SilverFox in thanks for the wonderful PM she sent me. And there I thought all USUK fans wanted to kill me ^^', but since she was so sweet I had to make this for her.

This fic is the sequel to the bonus scene in 'Like cat and mouse', so I would advise people to read that story first before reading this one in order to have a better view of what transpired between England, Ireland and America.

WARNINGS: English is not my first language so expect a lot of grammar and syntax mistakes.
This is a yaoi aka boys in love, so if that's not your thing better leave now!
For the USUK fans: This fic describes a triangle between England, America and Ireland. You've been warned!

Now onto the story!

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Chapter 1: Setting things right

England woke up, feeling the sunlight that came through the bedroom's window warming up his eyelids, beckoning him from his slumber. He slowly opened his eyes, cautiously looking around. He immediately realised that he was not in his own bedroom since the mattress was harder than the one he usually slept on and the wallpaper of the room was completely different. It took him some moments to realise that he was in America's room and a couple more moments to recall what had transpired between them last night.

When the tone of hurt in America's voice and the way he stormed off came to his mind, a cry of desperation escaped him and covered his face with his hands. How things got so screwed? Why he always ended up hurting the people he loved?

England felt wretched; whatever his feelings about Ireland may have been, he should have never hurt America. His precious America, the one he was holding in his arms ever since he was a little boy.

The Anglo-Saxon nation raised his face from his hands and steeled his resolve. He should find him and console him, try to make things right at least. He knew from experience that ignoring America's feelings only made America worse, after all that was his capital mistake that caused the 'American Revolutionary War'.

He slowly got up, wincing slightly since his body felt a bit sore from last night's exertion. After making a short visit to the bathroom in order to wash and try to make himself presentable, he dressed in plain pants and a shirt and took a deep breath.

He was starting to wonder where America was. The house was awfully silent and he didn't meet a soul on his way to the bathroom. Had America left the house? That was absurd since this was his own house!

England carefully took the staircase leading down to the big hallway. All the while nothing could be heard except the chirpings of birds coming outside the windows. It was a lovely sunny morning, so unlike the grey and rainy mornings he was used to back home.

Finding himself on the landing of the staircase, he went straight for the kitchen, expecting to find America there but he was very surprised to find the kitchen completely empty. England called out America's name but no response came.

'America, can you hear me?', he called again but only the cheerful chirpings of the birds answered.

He started to get really worried; America did seem like he left the house. England racked his brains trying to decide what would be the best course of action. Maybe if he called America's mobile; but then if America was angry enough to leave the house, there was no way he would answer his mobile. On second thought it was possible that if America had indeed left home, he would go stay with one of his friends; Japan most probably. Thus England decided to give Japan a ring. Although he could not remember at all his phone number, he knew that America kept a small phone book next to the telephone device.

Making his way to the small table where the device rested on, at the corner of the big living room, he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. He, for some reason, had the acute feeling that he was not alone.

Turning around he found that America was standing next to one of the windows surrounding the living room that was currently open. The taller male was leaning against the window frame, staring at the trees outside it. He was wearing a bathrobe, which initially confused England but then he recalled the rushed way the other had left the bedroom last night.

'For heaven's sake America, I called you so many bloody times. Why aren't you answering, you git?', England blurted out without thinking, frustrated that America made him worry without reason.

America didn't even stir; he only slightly turned his head just enough to shot England an angry glare before turning back to the scenery that was unfolding beyond his window.

England momentarily flinched when America's glare pierced him; he then began to analyse the situation. America was still refusing to look at him. Stretching his hand, reaching outside the window, the taller male let a soft whistle that beckoned one of the singing birds to fly towards him and sit on his fingers.

The older nation blinked at the other's behaviour. America's body stance, his refusal to look or talk to England and his sudden interest in the flying critters meant only one thing; 'United States of America' was brooding.

England sighed audibly and approached America but nevertheless took care to stay a good three feet away from him.

'Com' on lad, let's go make some coffee', was all he could manage to say, even though for him was too much already; after all he disliked coffee.

America did not say a word or made any movement. England was starting now to get really pissed off.

'Really America? Do you think this behaviour does you any credit? You are a bloody nineteen year old not ten!'

'But you wish I was like that, aren't you?', America suddenly snapped, turning to face England for the first time this morning. The little bird that was holding in his hand flew away, scared by the sudden movement.

England tried to steadily hold America's gaze.

'I do not understand what you mean. I...'

'You will never love me the way I do!', America snapped, 'I will always be the 'little kid' for you, isn't that why you seek company elsewhere?'

The other male blinked quickly, his mind racing. He took a few steps and gently touched America's arm.

'Alfred', he murmured gently. He only called him that when they were alone. The lines at America's face softened a bit and didn't draw away, seemingly calming down a bit.

'You are tired of me, aren't you', whispered America looking close to tears.

'Of course not!', replied England immediately, trying not to show how upset America's tears had made him, 'I care deeply about you and you know I cherish you more than everybody else...'

'But you love Ireland', America completed his sentence.

'Maybe. I am torn America, divided between two like my nature. I am of two minds and certainly one still has feelings for Ireland. But that doesn't mean I do not have feelings for you', he concluded as he gently cupped the taller man's face in his hands.

America tried to say something but all it came out was an unintelligible murmur. England looked up at the nation he once considered his little brother and pondered for the millionth time how it went from a small scrawny boy to the tall, strong man that was now standing before him. He noticed that America leaned to his touch thus he took the opportunity to run his fingers through his ashy blond hair. England although at some point used to be taller than the other nation, now he was a few good inches shorter so the other leaned down so the British man could get a better reach.

They were so close their breaths met when America asked:

'Who do you love more, me or Ireland?'

'Good heavens! America, my dear America, forgive me but I cannot answer that! I am so sorry but it's impossible', whispered England in desperation, his honey-green eyes locking with clear blue ones. America was his little angel, one he could never live without but even then he still couldn't let go of that woman that marked his childhood.

America looked at him for a very long moment searching for something in his look, but in the end he seemed to understand his exasperation.

'At least next time, tell me that you that you slept with another. Do not let me suddenly discover it'

From the tone of his voice, England finally understood how betrayed America must have felt when he saw the proof of England's 'little adventure' on his body. But on the other hand America seemed to also understand what kind of wretched man England was.

'I will. I promise'

'You are lying England, I can see that', said America with a sad smile. Over the years America had somehow become able to tell each time England was lying. Not even his siblings back at home, except from Wales maybe, could tell when he was lying and they knew him since birth.

England kicked himself. He was indeed lying but not out of malice. It was because, not matter what, he could not bring himself to hurt America this way by carelessly announcing him his trysts every time they happened.

'America...no. Alfred...', he tried to say but he was unable to since his lips were silenced by America's.

The kiss started lightly, gently then it grew more and more possessive as it deepened. They parted only a brief moment to catch their breaths then they kissed again, this time America thrust his tongue beyond England's parted lips and teeth. England responded with and moan and his tongue as the two of them battled for a few seconds before the older nation gave up and gave in, melting into the kiss. He felt the arms of the taller nation hugging him tightly, bringing their bodies together until they were locked in a tight embrace.

England felt a bit light headed by the force of the kiss but even then he could not help responding back, biting American's lip in intervals between their kisses. After some time that looked like forever, America moved to England's neck where he planted gentle kisses. He raised his lips to England's ear and whispered gently:

'I love you'

England felt shivers down his spine but he wasn't sure whether they were caused from America's hot breath on his ear or the words he just uttered. He slightly pushed back from the embrace just enough to be able to look America in the eyes.

'So you are not mad at me? Or unhappy?'

America chuckled softly and shook his head.

'No, I am not. I am home'

-Home is where the heart is-

There you go I hoped you liked it. It turned out more angsty than I expected ^^'. I will now explain some of my headcanons used here.

Headcanon 1: For what happened during the 'American Revolutionary War', my headcanon is influenced from Hakka Pink's doujinshi of 'Independence SKY', I really advice everyone to read them, they are amazing!

Headcanon 2: England is divided in his thoughts and feelings, I came up with this idea seeing how strangely English people take up behaviours of both Germanic and Celtic people (And by the way a research in genes showed that 40% of the English have celtic genes, yay!). So England is divided between his Anglo-Saxon nature and his Briton one (Britons was the name for the Celts of Britain before it became the name for the British). So at some points his thoughts and feelings get confused in his head thus causing all his angst.

Headcanon 3: I know you USUK fans probably hate me for throwing the 'Ireland card' in England's and America's relationship, I just think if one wants to make stories with England, Ireland is hard to ignore (not to mention my OTP is England/Ireland). So basically if you consider that a nation which lives for so many eons can love more than one person, in England's case he loves both America and Ireland. On the other hand America too has feelings for Ireland (try to ask an American person what they think about the Irish and you'll see what they will answer!). Ireland is caught between and has her own conflicted feelings going about, although she still sees America as a child.

Headcanon 4: England knew Ireland since childhood and Ireland in fact is older than he is.

Thanks again for reading and for the support. Reviews will be greatly appreciated! =3