I've been stuck on fanfiction, but I was able to eke out this story after perusing tumblr for Hong Kong pictures.

Rather slice of life.

I don't own Hetalia!end/AN/

It wasn't as though Hong Kong could avoid eating forever. He'd already hidden as much of England's foreign food in his sleeves as he was served, even though it was hot and it hurt. He'd dumped it down his shirt, he'd slipped it into his pants. It was even in his stockings.

So, not only was he uncomfortable, he was still hungry. But not for English food; for Chinese food, real food. And he'd thought he was in the clear as soon as England had left the room, plates all clean and mugs emptied.

But then England came back in, bearing a smoldering, huge pastry of some kind. "I made pie. I thought, since it was your first time having English food, you ought to try some of the best I have to offer."

And he put it on the table and began slicing a piece out.

Hong Kong didn't want it to, but his lower lip trembled, and he barely suppressed a whimper. He was coated in warm food, 'mashed potatoes' and 'peas' and charred 'roast beef'. It was soaking into his underclothes and scratching against his ankles in the most uncomfortable way.

England was smiling, oblivious to his discomfort. "It's gooseberry. Now, I know you've never had it, but you've tolerated the rest of the food quite well, so I expect that this will be a treat."

Nodding, Hong Kong's eyes were darting around, looking for an escape. He could stab his hand with a fork! Then, in his pained thrashing, he could knock the pie off of the table. It would be ruined, and England wouldn't serve it.

He reconsidered rather quickly, staring at the sharp spines on the cutlery. He could pretend he was sick; he would fall down on the ground, and lie there listlessly until England let him be.

But then England might poke and prod, and he would notice all the food in his clothes. Hong Kong despaired, staring at the slowly oozing piece of pie placed in front of him.

"Go on," England said benevolently, "take a bite."

He was looking at him intently. There was to be no escape.

Hong Kong gripped his fork, eyes darting from England to the pie and back again. The pie looked toxic, crisp and sodden all at the same time. He put his fork in it, and tore away a piece. He held it in front of his face, examining it in all its dripping, crackled glory.

And then he burst into tears.

"Good lord, boy, what is it?" England got up from his seat and came to his side, gently putting a hand on top of his head. "What's wrong? Are you sick?"

Hong Kong just sobbed unresponsively, dropping the fork and hugging his arms around himself. It squished the food, but he couldn't get his mind off of home, where he should be. Where he would be if China hadn't traded him away. His stomach growled loudly, and it only made him cry harder.

"No, it's all right, don't cry," England murmured, wrapping his arms around him and trying to comfort him. He hesitated, then he hugged him, pushing back his hair from his face. "There there; don't cry."

Hong Kong buried his face into England's shirt, standing up. Peas fell out the bottoms of his pants.

"It's all right- did you put my food in your clothes?" England's grip seemed to loosen a bit, as he looked around Hong Kong and discovered the food that had fallen out.

Sniffling, Hong Kong ducked his head down. He hadn't wanted to get caught, and now it had happened. England was going to punish him, and it was going to be horrible. He braced himself to be smacked or ordered to bend over and get spanked.

But England didn't do it. He seemed to battle a bit, and then sigh. He patted Hong Kong on the head. "I suppose the full experience of English cuisine can be too much for a foreigner. How about some bread and jam? That should be all right for you."

And it turned out to be all right. It was sweet, and the bread tasted funny, but the jam was enough to cover it. And after that, Hong Kong took a thorough bath, which was an adventure all its own.

/AN/ I hope you enjoyed that. I had fun writing it. It's good, because I've been feeling a major disconnect between me and my fanfiction; I haven't been able to get work done on almost anything else. I think this might be my last fanfiction for a while.