Like Old Times
"A-America, I don't think Mr. Britain will want us troubling him this late at night…"
The two nations shivered in there nightclothes and hooded jackets that they had sleepily pulled on when the American decided it'd be 'totally wicked awesome' to pay a late night visit to Arthur. At first, Canada was too tired and jetlagged to even bother to say anything when Alfred dragged him out of bed, shoved a jacket on him and commanded him to put his shoes on, last time he had checked the other nation had been sleeping also, however, it seemed that it wasn't the case. The younger man didn't believe for one second that America had simply wanted to see Britain on a whim due to the fact he had his usual 'post nightmare' expression painted clearly over his face. It was pretty damn obvious to say the least, that the American must have had a bad dream and, being America, was too proud to admit it but too shaken up to stay awake in his bed. So, instead of doing the rational, normal thing, Alfred decided to trudge to Britain's house in the freezing weather and bring unfortunate Matthew with him.
The only reason they were in Britain was because of a world conference being held there, it was too small for America's liking but he got by because he was 'one amazingly badass super hero, bro!' They hadn't even spoke to Arthur all that much, being far too entertained by the Kirkland siblings running around and wreaking havoc for their elder brother. However, he still found himself hesitant to ring the doorbell, though he gave a big grin and pulled the smaller nation into a headlock and ran his fist along the man's skull.
"Don't be silly, Mattie! Britain will be, like, totally psyched to see us!"
At least, he hoped he wouldn't be too mad or caught off guard. The last thing he needed was to disturb Britain whilst he slept and then hear the whining that came along with it. He still pressed his finger to the doorbell and forced himself not to jump like his companion did when a loud chime echoed throughout the area.
Well. There was no turning back now anyway.
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Arthur Kirkland exhaled deeply as he stirred his tea slowly with his spoon. The stress of hosting a world conference was not one he'd like to bear for a long time, though, he was happy now that it was over and he could relax…Kind of.
"Remind me again why you're here, frog?"
Francis Bonnefoy leant back in his chair and gave one of his signature 'look at me, I'm French' chuckles before scratching at his stubble. He took a sip of his tea as if he was just digressing to annoy Britain, however, eventually he responded with, "It's such a bore crossing the channel and back to my house and I had no where else to go. You don't mind do you, mon lapin?" The English man's heavy brow furrowed as he bit back frustration, refusing to be part of France's game, whatever that may be.
"Don't have much choice, do I? You're here now." It was late and usually Arthur would just start to be settling down, however, there was really not much point now that the French man was here and annoying him.
Though, in all honesty, Britain didn't mind France's company, even if they bickered. It was…weird in some ways that he enjoyed the childish banter they passed. Though the elder blond was infuriating, it was very easy just to relax in his company. He didn't have to pretend to be a 'gentleman'; he could laze around in his old tartan trousers if so he wished, though he decided against this after he found that France had a 'thing' for punks. He blew at the freshly brewed tea before taking a sip and sighing contentedly after doing so ignoring France's arched brow. He pulled the cup away from his lips and looked at France from over the top. They were both dressed in their nightclothes, Arthur decided to ignore that France had ever so conveniently forgotten his pyjamas and insisted on wearing his own, it made him quite self conscious to see that his night shirt that usually draped him so effortlessly and ruggedly was tight against France's obviously broader torso and that his bottoms that usually scraped at the floor were now up high by the French man's ankles. It wasn't exactly fair, France getting to be so much taller and toned. However, he attempted to ignore it as he did a lot of things about France. He opened his mouth to start a new conversation only to be cut off by his doorbell chiming and reverberating off the walls of his house, he raised his eyebrows and put the tea cup on the kitchen counter gently before pursuing down the corridor and to the door, Francis at his heels.
When he opened the door, two familiar faces that he hadn't expected to see so late at night greeted him. His eyebrows shot even further up his forehead and his face portrayed genuine surprise. France poked his head over the British man's head and grinned from ear to ear, his aqua eyes lighting up with delight when seeing Canada's sleepy shy face complete with lopsided glasses.
"America and er… Canada," admittedly, it took a while for him to remember the younger nation's name, "What brings you here?"
Alfred's eyes were heavy but he had the enthusiastic smile plastered all over his face as he usually did, though his body trembled in the cold wind. It was obvious to Arthur why the younger nation was there, he wore the same expression he used to when he was a boy under Britain's care, but, he listened to America's longwinded story about he 'totally just randomly sat up in bed and decided to pay his old pal a visit and Canada totally wanted to as well.' Britain nodded and cupped his chin, pretending to be considering the story thoroughly. He saw the American twitch and smirked slightly,
"So you had a bad dream?"
"Umm…"
"Oh my, how adorable!" France clapped his hands together and his lips were split into a grin so wide it almost took over his face, Canada smiled slightly and nodded his head politely at the British man,
"It's okay if you want us to leave…"
Arthur shook his head and opened the door wider, making a motion with his hands that signaled for them to come in but couldn't resist a patronizing smile as the two men scampered in, still in their slippers.
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"Now lads, it's really time to be getting to bed. The room filled up with childish groans and complaints, he shot a sideways glance at Francis whom chuckled, obviously amused at the boyish display of rebellion. Arthur rolled his eyes, he obviously wasn't going to help with anything, so, Britain clapped his hands together and shook his head,
"No, no. Its time to sleep, are you going back to your hotel or would you rather stay the night here?"
Canada looked up behind his still lopsided glasses and blinked his eyes up at the other Nation sleepily and opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the loud and obnoxious American that was sat next to him,
"It's like, friggging freezing out, bro! You can't make us walk back there!"
Britain smiled slightly, "Then here it is I suppose." It wouldn't make such a difference really, it just meant he had to bunk with the French man because there was no way he was leaving Francis unaccompanied with the younger men, even if it meant he had to sleep with one eye open and his legs crossed tightly all night. America gave a childish cheer and Canada nodded whilst yawning up at him, it was as if he was staring at toddlers again. He got up and stretched,
"You'll stay in the visitors room, France you'll have to bunk with me."
"Ohonhonhonhon"
"Don't even think about it, frog."
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Alfred hung outside the door of the guest room and waited whilst his brother brushed his teeth with the toothbrush he had grabbed swiftly on the way out of their hotel room, he was hovering for no other reason than he didn't want to be alone, even if that sounded 'totally un-hero-ish.' The dream had gotten the better of him, even though he didn't really even remember much of it, all he remembered was being left alone and it scared him so right now he wanted anything but being on his own.
"Aren't you going to bed?" he turned on his heel to see Arthur stood outside his own door with his hands on his hips and the typical pissed off Mother expression on his face. America smiled and put his hand on the handle of the door,
"Yep, totally!"
"Well then night…"
"Yep night!"
"America…"
"Yep, just going to er.. go in here, alone and er.. sleep I guess."
"America."
"Here I go…"
"America."
"Almost got the handle."
"For the love of god, listen you idiot." The American turned to face the obviously disgruntled Britain whom was rubbing his temples and gritting his teeth, "You can…Bunk in with me if you want, just bring Matthew along with you, I don't trust France on his own with boys like him." America resisted the urge to cheer and barge into Britain's room, instead, he acted casual as if that wasn't what he hoped for at all. He shrugged and adjusted his glasses,
"S-sure, I mean, if you want me to…"
"Grab your brother," Arthur rolled his eyes and opened his door, "I'll chuck France out now, and don't make too much noise when you come in, I would like to get at least some sleep tonight."
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The bed was now successfully crowded, Arthur refrained from moving around too much and was careful to not wake the finally asleep America and the completely knocked out Canada. There was still one thing that was bugging him though as he watched the younger nation's sleep,
"Remind me again why you're here, frog?" he whispered for the second time that night. He felt the body behind him shift slightly as a long drawl of a laugh emanated from the shadowed profile,
"Because they look so sweet again, like when they were little ones, no? Remember we used to all cram into…"
"Shut up," Britain hissed, his cheeks reddening slightly before returning his view on the two younger males. He remembered, of course he did, when France had Canada and Britain had America, it was like they were some big dysfunctional family you get on cliché sitcoms. They always had these rather obscure sleepovers whenever one of the boys had a bad dream, each of them slipping into the same bed, it seemed to never occur to them that there was a spare room just across the corridor but the crowdedness of the bed seemed almost comforting and warm. They were in the same formation they used to lay in too. France, Britain, America and then Canada. Though back then, France would usually lazily slop his arm around Britain, whilst Britain would have a hand on America's shoulder who would be dozily cuddling up to his 'little brother'. But they weren't children anymore and France and Britain were not silly adolescents who really thought they could bring up nations by themselves. Even so, America had his head lazily tilted on the younger nation's shoulder and France's arm was tingling, it was so tempting to put his arm around the British man and make it perfect just like it used to be.
Instead an obviously annoyed groan came from the British man who turned to face France, "J-Jesus Christ, frog," he buried his head into the Frenchman's shoulder, "Put your damn arm around me and we'll play bloody happy families like we used to, okay? I can't deal with your pouting, even if it's in the bloody dark."
The taller blond blinked but not being the one to pry he wrapped one arm around the other man's waist and pulled him closer.
"Je t'aime, Maman Angleterre."
"…I have no idea what you just said."
((A/N: I couldn't help but add a bit of FrUk, sorry if it's not your cup of tea~! ^^'
For those who are interested, France says, "I love you, Mother England" at the end. Yeah, cheesy I know but it felt like something a stereotypical French man would say in that situation, and you know Hetalia, it's all about the stereotypes, right?
I guess if you're into UsUk you could imagine that America woke up and pimp slapped France into oblivion before running away with Arthur to the spare room? ^^'''
Hope everyone enjoyed it anyway~!))