Hey guys! Haven't updated or added anything in a while. So here is my very first USUK fanfic! I had help with the plot from SakuraMoriChan. Please go see her profile and read her stories! Also, please review and give me suggestions if you want on how I can improve!

America was standing in a very secluded area of a cemetery. Why was he here? It was his good friend's funeral. England was wearing his uniform, which looked like it came straight out of the Laundromat. It looked like he was sleeping, but he was very much dead. He wasn't even sure if he was in reality anymore.

France called him earlier that morning to tell him the tragic news. He didn't believe him, but he had this knot in his stomach that wouldn't go away. So, he called his friend, Japan, to double check, and he was devastated by the answer.

"Hai. It's true. Iggirisu-san is dead."

America was standing beside the others; by that it was France, Canada, South Korea, and Japan. He was outraged that no one else came. Granted England had a short temper and had a mouth of a sailor most of the time, but at least others would find him less of a headache than himself.

A small thunder storm was brewing in the distance, but it went unnoticed. After half an hour, Japan and South Korea started leaving. America looked in their direction to see China and North Korea waiting for them. It was much more surprising to see North Korea there, but then again, this was the first time he would have seen a dead nation.

America turned his attention back to the coffin. His mind traveled back to the memories he had of England. Their first time meeting in that grassy meadow and his colony years brushed past. England giving him toy soldiers he made himself for his birthday one year. England giving him his first suit, which he still kept. He kept all of those. The Revolution came and went when he declared his independence and seeing England cry for the first time in his short life. America saw memories of both world wars. He saw England hanging on to life by a thread and bandages covering all of the wounds he as a nation received. Then he thought of the last time they spoke to each other. He and England were going to have coffee together this morning, but now it was too late.

France and Canada had left several minutes later, leaving America alone. America stepped closer to the coffin and looked straight at England's face. The memories flooded back again only with more force than before. Each time they came back, it focused more on England and his expressions. At first all America saw was brotherly love in England's eyes, but then to intensify as the years got closer to the present. The way England looked at him for the first few days of both world wars when he joined the Allies really made a stand in his mind. Suddenly, America realized the connections to all of it. England… may have loved him as more than just brothers.

America collapsed in front of the coffin on his hands and knees. Tears streamed down his eyes with no sign of it ending. His heart wanted to scream out loud what he wished to, but his mouth was currently occupied with many sobbing noises. Alas, America couldn't take it anymore.

"*hic* England! Please come back! Why couldn't I *hic* see that you *hic* loved me so *hic* much! A hero should notice stuff *hic* like that! Please England! *hic* Come back! Please come back! *hic* I love you, too!"

Footsteps were heard behind America, and he figured it was Canada coming to take him home. Little did he know that that person had heard everything he said. A little time passed before the owner of the footsteps spoke.

"… I always thought a hero such as you would be strong in situations like this."

America recognized that voice! It wasn't Canada. It was… no it couldn't be! That famous accent…

America turned around to face this voice. The green eyes, messy blond hair, even the bushy eyebrows and uniform looked familiar. England had returned, whether as a ghost or alive America couldn't figure out.

With tears over flowing and obstructing his vision, America lunged at England and tackled him to the ground. England was solid. He had a heart beat. He must be alive!

England was paralyzed with shock and was motionless for several seconds before trying in vain to push America off. In the end, he gave up and hugged America, who had buried his face into the other's shoulder.

"Dude, don't scare me like that again!"

"Stupid git, I didn't scare you. What are you talking about?" His voice wasn't his usual chastising voice, but it held a more tender sound to it, almost like an adult calming their child.

"Dude you were dead just two seconds ago!" By now both countries where starring at each other in confusion.

"No I wasn't! France called me saying you had an accident and you died!"

"… Wait a minute. France called me saying the same thing, too." America seemed to be connecting to something.

Then both countries turned in the direction France had left with malicious intent on putting a reward on the Frenchman's head.

Meanwhile

France was at his apartment drinking some red wine with a "friend", using that term loosely, who was across from him on another couch. He had felt the glare from the nations in the cemetery pierce his head. He brushed it aside and started nonchalantly talking with his "friend."

"Mon ami, may I ask why I would get the blame for calling Amerique and Angleterre about the fake deaths?"

"You know the answer to that already." His "friend" spoke and then shuffled in his seat.

"Oui, but I wonder how this benefits you."

"Again, you should already know that." His "friend", others call him North Korea, leaned back in his seat. "After all, America will be more occupied with a new partner, which will give me more time to spend with my brother without him chasing me off. Also, 'amour' as you call it, is not something that people would connect with me. So, even if you tried telling others I was involved, they wouldn't believe you, especially America. You even called them on your cell phone using your voice, so it's more believable that they would think you were behind it all."

"Oui, c'est vrai. I wonder how Amerique and Angleterre are doing…"

Back at the cemetery

America and England had stood up from kneeling on the ground and brushed off their suits. America now had his usual smirk on his face as he now looked at England. He wasn't sure himself if England had heard his confession, but he had slightly hoped he had.

"So… you still feel like getting coffee?" America looked at England shyly.

England turned towards America with a grin on his face. "Yeah. That sounds good."

America turned and started walking towards his car, but England grabbed his wrist. England had a determined look on his face.

"Aren't you going to say it again?" England pouted slightly. So he had heard the confession.

"… I love you, England." America's blue eyes met England's green ones.

"I love you, too. No matter how much of a stupid git you can be at times."

England stood on his tip toes to reach almost the same height as America. His eyes were half closed, as if he was waiting for America to do something. Needless to say, America was to oblivious to know what England wanted.

England saw the confusion and scolded America. "Stupid git. Do I have to do everything?"

That's when England smashed his lips against America's own. It took a couple of seconds for adjustment, but soon America was taking control. Their lips brushed against the other like a hand on silk. America licked England's lower lip, asking for entrance, but England pulled away.

England looked into America's eyes. "I'm not letting you in that easily."

America laughed his normal heroic laugh. "So that means sex is out of the question for now? Hahahahahaha!"

England yanked on America's tie. "Stupid git. Just for that, you are paying for the coffee."

I hope you guys like this. Please review! Again, this was with the help of SakuraMoriChan.

C'est vrai: That's true