Can be viewed as brotherly, or slight yaoi. Either way it's a cute fluffy fic!
England was one of the first ones to arrive at the conference room for the world meeting. Germany had been the very first to arrive, along with Italy. The German was trying to get things written onto the white board while Italy prattled on cheerfully about numerous things, most that included pasta.
The Brit took his usual seat and leaned into the back of his chair, sipping on his usual morning cup of tea that he'd brought. Without his tea he didn't know how he'd survive these cursed meetings. really they solved nothing except for the fact that gigantic superheros were not the answer to global warming.
The meeting was going to start at seven, which was fifteen minutes from now. Why they were hosted so early Arthur didn't have a clue. Lots of the countries would arrive late due to accidentally sleeping in, one of these countries being America.
It would last till three in the afternoon, with only two breaks, and one being lunch. It was so aggravating having to deal with the chaos of the others. True, England was often a cause of the havoc too, since he almost always began to attack France, but he wasn't the only one who caused problems.
"Bonjour Angleterre! Early as usual I see!"
England rolled his eyes at the voice of France. The said nation sat down in a chair next to Arthur, earning a scowl from the Brit. It was still rather early, and he was not in the mood to deal with frogs at this hour.
"Why don't you go molest a tree or something?' Arthur said, annoyed.
"But why mon ami, when I have the perfect opportunity to catch up with my favorite petit Angleterre?" The Frenchman asked, giving his usual smirk. By now most of the other countries had arrived, and it was nearing time to begin.
Germany surveyed the area, looking wary when he saw France and England sitting next to each other.
"Um, why don't you two separate? We don't need a brawl to deal with today." Ludwig told them. England was going to open his mouth to argue and tell Germany that it was always France's fault that they fought, but was silenced by a hand clasping his shoulder.
"Don't worry about it dude, I'll watch these guys and make sure they don't kill each other!" The loud voice of America said from behind him. England looked up and saw the be-speckled nation grinning.
"Very well America...behave." Germany said the last word to France and England sternly before going back to his seat to begin the conference.
"Move over Francis, I'll sit in between you guys" Alfred said, waiting for the Frenchman to move. France pouted at not being able to sit next to England, but complied without arguing.
England set his tea on the table before crossing his arms. First the frog, now the stupid 'heroic' git. How worse could his morning possibly get? Then again, this did happen practically every conference.
"So Iggy, how've you been? Things have been so busy, I haven't talked to you in over a week!" Alfred said, sporting his usual stupid grin.
"Don't call me Iggy you git! And things have been nice since I haven't had to deal with your stupid antics." England replied evenly. America frowned.
"Aww, your so mean Iggy! How about I come visit soon? We can watch Harry Potter or something!" He said, knowing how much England worshiped that series. Hearing this, England perked up a little.
"We'll see." He said casually.
After that, it was time for the meeting to begin. Surprisingly things were going pretty smoothly. Right now all of the countries were discussing their resources. It wasn't the funnest thing to discuss, because many had to depend on other countries for their oil, and all that...
In the middle of Japan's turn to talk about his country, England began to get a strange feeling. His head suddenly felt too light and dizzy. His stomach felt way too unsettling. Perhaps his breakfast hadn't agreed with him this morning? The Brit tried to think back to what he'd eaten that morning. He'd only had an orange, so what could possibly have triggered his suddenly sick feeling?
America then walked over to the white board to have his turn. He went into some wild speech about having McDonald's burgers shipped all around the word to help starving children, saying that they could be the answer to everything, even car fuel.
At the mention of hamburgers, England's stomach gave an uneasy lurch. It just doubled his feeling of nausea as he thought of the disgusting greasy food. He felt his face whiten, and his eyes went to the clock. The first break would be in about an hour. He really needed to throw up or something...could he survive an hour?
"Angleterre, are you okay?" France asked from his seat, eying the Brit with a slightly concerned look. England didn't really trust his speech at the moment, so he just nodded stiffly, eyes going back to America at the front of the room.
The sick feeling seemed to be coming in waves. For a few minutes he'd be fine, and then suddenly it would come back. To him, a minute seemed like an hour. He needed to get out of here quickly, before he lost control. More than anything Arthur just wanted to curl up on his hotel bed and sleep, a trashcan beside him.
Pretty soon France was called up for his turn. Francis gave England one more look before going to the front of the room as Alfred sat back down next to Arthur.
"Are you okay dude? You look a little shaky." America commented a few minutes later. England sent a glare is way, refusing to open his mouth in fear of upchucking. He silently cursed to himself though. America barely even noticed the mood, so he must have really looked bad.
A sudden realization of horror came to England. It would be his turn to talk in front of the others after France! How would he possibly be able to control his urge to vomit in front of everyone? France's turn would be up any minute, so he barely had any time to get composed!
The moment came all too soon when Germany called him up. For a moment England swallowed thickly, staying seated as France came back over.
"Er...right.." England muttered, using all his strength to keep his sick feeling under control as he slowly trudged to the front of the room. For some odd reason it actually grew quiet in the room. The others were watching him warily, as if they thought he'd faint or something.
England realized why they were doing so as he felt himself almost tip over as a wave of dizziness came over him. China, Hong Kong, Lithuania, and Poland were closest. They all looked ready to catch him if he were to fall, which was a little insulting since they thought he would faint to begin with. Honestly! He wasn't that weak!
"England, are you alright?" Germany asked concernedly from his spot at the table.
"I'm fine...ah...what were we talking about again?" He asked as loudly as he could. Another wave of nausea swept over him. He feared to speak too loudly, or else he'd finally puke.
"We were moving onto Military. Could you perhaps explain to us how yours is doing?" Germany answered. England nodded, his mind desperately trying to understand the question. He was feeling way too sick.
"My military is...is..." England wasn't able to finish the sentence. Of God, this was it. He couldn't hold it in any long! No, No, No! The room was growing hotter, it was so uncomfortable.
England stumbled forward into the table, his vision going black around the edges. He vaguely felt hands pulling him into a more comfortable position and opened his mouth to say something. Words didn't come out though...the thing that did was much, much worse.
He threw up all over the floor, and onto the legs and feet of China, who had been closest and caught him. It lasted for a full few minutes, his body heaving violently. He heard people talking to him soothingly, but it was a little hard to focus on who was speaking. He thought he heard America's voice, and possibly France and Germany.
When he was finished, Arthur closed his eyes for a moment, resting his head against the leg of the table. He felt so relieved after throwing up! Then...it dawned on him. He'd thrown up in the middle of the World Meeting, and on China nonetheless!
Flushing a bright shade of red, he got up quickly. All eyes in the room were on him. Half of the countries in the room were standing up all staring at him. China's legs were covered with his nasty vomit. The Asian nation didn't look angry though, just a little shocked and worried for England. That only made the Brit feel even more mortified.
"Angleterre?" France questioned quietly, seeing England begin to tremble from shame. The Englishman ignored Francis though, looking at China instead.
"China I'm so...I didn't mean to! Please forgive me..." England apologized because it was the thing a gentleman would do. He felt his eyes tearing up though, and tears were quick to fall down his face. He turned around abruptly and ran from the room, ignoring the calls of his name.
Arthur ran down the hall and into the loo. He was quick to walk to the sinks and splash his face with cold water. The sick feeling in his stomach was gone, but his head still ached dully.
He cried shamefully for a few minutes, hoping that no one was nearby to hear him. Why hadn't he controlled it? He should have forced himself to wait until a break to upchuck, but now most likely the whole room was laughing. He'd never be able to face them again!
"Iggy, you in here?" He heard the door crack. Dammit!
"Go away!" England yelled, trying yet failing to stop crying.
Of course this was America, so the heroic nation just opened the door the rest of the way and entered. He gave a pitying look at the green eyes Brit, coming forth to pull him into a hug. England was feeling to upset to fight back, and his sobs increased.
"I've made a fool of myself! How can I ever face China again, or anyone else for that matter?" He wailed, burying his face into the shoulder of Alfred's bomber jacket. It was oddly comforting, the smell of coffee and fast food. America rubbed England's back comfortingly.
"China's not mad. He forgives you. Nobody's laughing, there all just concerned. Even the commie bastard Russia!" America told him in a cheery but gentle voice. England hiccuped; he'd never really seem this side of America before, perhaps the git was okay...most of the time anyway.
"Still...they'll never forget it! It doesn't make the situation any less embarrassing! Just think Alfred...the once great empire England, throwing up allover China, and the floor of the world conference! I hate myself!" England said. For the most part he was finished crying, and he pulled out of Alfred's arms.
"Listen to me Iggy. Everyone gets sick, and nobody can control the urge to throw up. Remember when I was little and you would comfort me? You'd read my stories whenever I was sick, and you'd hold me. Now it's my turn to comfort you." America told him softly.
"T-thanks Alfred" England said back gently, wiping at his eyes.
"Anytime" America answered, grinning. "Now why don't I drive you back to my house? It's only thirty minutes away. We can ask Germany to record notes for the rest of the meeting for us. You look like you need to sleep."
England nodded, so America led him back down the hallway and to the conference room. He stiffened as they neared the door. Alfred let him wait outside while he went in to gather both of their things and to tell Germany that they were leaving.
"Ready to go?" America asked when they were in his car.
"Yeah" England replied, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. "Thank you Alfred...maybe your not that much of a git after all...at least not as bad as France is..."
"Right Iggy...of course" America smiled. "Sleep well."
a/n: Review and I will give you your very own...VIRTUAL HUG!
hahaha, poor England huh? It always sucks to get sick, especially to puke! I wrote this because I've just come down with a nasty cold, and I've decided to bring England down with me. Mowahahahah! Anyways...please tell me how you liked it, and please feel free to give me a next prompt to write about! Happy New Year!