It was just like any other visit. America had invited him over to his house, and like any other time this had happened, Britain wondered why. He was especially suspicious, since when he visited a few months back, he opened the door only to have a bucket of week old fish fall on him.
"Dude, why're you sneaking 'round my door? There's nothing wrong with it this time," America told him as he opened the door to a surprised Britain. The man narrowed his eyes at his former colony and strutted into the house, ignoring him. America rolled his eyes and muttered, closing the door again, "You pull one prank." Just as he was about to go make the Brit some tea, he heard a loud splash and some loud British cursing.
He hurried to where the man was and shouted skidding to a halt by the door frame, "Yo, Britain, you alright?" Then, he paused, taking in the sight. He then tried to stop himself from laughing outright at the man. Much like a few months ago, there was a bucket on Britain's head. Though this time, it wasn't filled with fish.
"What the bloody hell is this?" Britain screamed, not happy in the slightest, "I'm absolutely soaked!" America snickered, then, at least attempting to get a hold of himself, gave the blonde an apologetic smile, "Sorry, forgot I set that one up for ya. But honestly, I set it up like 2 or 3 weeks ago, but you never tripped it. Guess I shoulda dismantled it by now, huh?" Britain growled.
"Oh, would you just grow up."
After getting dried off and changed (Into some of America's clothes, which were slightly bigger, but drier than his own), Britain joined America in the younger nation's living room. He sat down, with a sigh, on the couch in front the fresh cup of tea America had made him. Frowning, he picked it up and muttered before taking a sip, "Damn America, why won't he just act more mature?" As he placed the cup back down on the saucer again, America darted in again.
"Okay, I'm like really sorry about the whole bucket of water thing, so, I decided to make it up to you," he said quickly, he face red from darting all around his house, trying to finish his chores at the last minute. At this Britain raised one of his rather thick eyebrows, sceptical.
"Oh really? What are you going to do, take me to ChuckECheese?"
It turns out, that was the case. While the excited American darted inside, Britain sighed, thoroughly annoyed.
"Oh, would you just grow up."
The man had finally managed to get home, after a rather torturous few hours with America. It seemed as the years went by, he and kids just didn't seem to get along any more (If the disastrous time at ChuckECheese said anything). Frowning as he walked upstairs to get changed out of America's clothes, he muttered, "He's always been like this, hasn't he?" He sighed.
"Oh won't he just grow up." Then, he stop, surprised, before smirking.
"Funny, that seems to have become a catchphrase of mine lately, hasn't it? I remember when I first said it, though I haven't said it at all until recent months."
"Yo, Britain!" The blonde turned around to see America running up to him, holding a sheet of paper.
'Ah,' he thought, 'those must be the battle plans he was supposed to be dealing with.' The middle of WWII, and America said he was working on something big. The other Allies just assumed it was battle plans.
"Dude," he started, panting, "check this out!" He held up the paper, shocking Britain. It was a mess! It looked more like a horse (And even that was hard to find amidst the scribbles) than battle plans.
"Wha...What kind of battle plans are those?" America blinked, looked down at the paper, then said, as if it were obvious, "These aren't battle plans. It's a horse." This silenced the Brit into dumbstruck shock, until eventually, he growled.
"Oh, would you just grow up!"
The G8 meeting was about to start, and the only ones there at that moment were France, Britain and America. So, it was up to them to tidy up the place (Trust the Bad Touch Trio to mess it up when they were having a get together. Why they couldn't have it at any of their houses, they wouldn't say. Though France did say it was a good party...).
"It's actually quite surprising that Germany or Japan weren't here early. They're normally one of the first people here," Britain muttered to himself. Then, he looked up, as did America, when they heard France call their names.
"You two can take out the trash. I'll finish up in 'ere," the Frenchman said, pointing over his shoulder to the three trash bags sitting by the door. America nodded.
"Sure thing, dude," he said, as he walked over and picked up two of them. Britain merely sighed and followed him, picking up the other bag on his way out.
Outside, they had both just tossed in their trash bags and were about to head back to the meeting hall when one of the bags fell out again. America pouted and pointed to it, saying, "Hey, Britain, d'you mind getting that?" Getting annoyed, he asked in reply, "Why can't you get it? You are closer after all."
"I don't wanna," the American whined.
"Oh for god's sake," Britain hissed. He marched past America, picked up the bag, and tossed it back in the large bin. He turned around sharply and muttered, "Oh, would you just grow up." He started to walk past the younger nation when he felt him grab his wrist. Next thing he knew, he was thrown against the wall, being held in place with his arms on either side of his head, America holding his wrists. Britain was worried. Not only was this oddly out of character for the nation, but he couldn't even tell what his expression was – his bangs were shadowing his eyes.
"Oh, Britain," the nation said quietly, smirking. He looked up, shocking the Brit with the serious look in his eyes, "you have no idea how grown up I am." And with that...the man kissed him.
Though initially shocked (What with his eyes widening, his hands tightening into fists and his face turning bright red), Britain eventually gave in. One of America's hands slipped off his wrist to rest on the wall while the other slipped up until it was over the other's hand.
When they eventually did stop, Britain was surprised to find he was upset that it had stopped. America stepped away and chuckled nervously, "Well, that was..." He trailed off, them waved, smiling, though it wasn't his usual smile.
"I guess we'd better head back to the meeting room. The others are probably there by now and they're probably wondering where we've gotten to." However, after turning to walk away, he didn't get very far; a certain Brit, after a quickly muttered, "Oh it wouldn't be the first time you were late" ran after him and...well, let's just say that when France found them, their suits weren't off, but they were very messy and they both appeared to be having a grand old make-out session (Actually, they were just kissing like normal, but then again, France does like to stretch the truth a little, especially when it comes to love or matters connected to love).
The nation watched the two for a few moments longer with wide eyes before smiling and turning, heading back to the meeting hall.
"Well, I think it would be best if I just left them to it, non?"
YES! AFTER SEVERAL FUCKING WEEKS OF PROCRASTINATING, IT IS COMPLETE!
I now feel like an official USUK fan, now that I have written this. I feel so proud now. :3
But seriously, I think (Not entirely sure)I started this in January, got down to that first kiss, then my fangirly side prevented me from writing. Which is why you all have such a shitty ending. But you know what, despite the fact that that ending is shitty, Imma be proud of it! Why? Because it took me fucking forever to get this finished, so Imma take what I put down, alright?!
Ahem, on a side note, I do realise that America is not that childish, but I would actually see him going to ChuckECheese. I think I went to one when I was eight and I went to Florida. Thank god I wasn't a Hetalia fan back then, or else it would've been an extremely awkward week. If you don't get why (And this is me talking to some of the newer, less informed Hetalia fans) lemmie give you two words that will take you far: Vital. Regions.
Finally, allow me to talk to a friend who should be reading this and should be reviewing it considering I've told her multiple times that I accept anonymous reviews; oh Me~egan~! Are you clicking on that pretty little button down there? Well, are you? If you do, I'll write you a Spamano shot, despite me not being a fan of that pairing~.
Thank you for reading, and please, do not hesitate to either a) click on the pretty review button, or b) PM me. I will talk to anyone!
...No seriously, I will.
Angel-chan x
Ps. This is me talking to the friend again. This is an inside joke that I hope to write a one-shot for sometime in the future. Don't worry if you do not get this. But Megan, you should;
Ameripan. [BOOF] XD