Authoress note: For my America, Tobifan4444, and all her craziness. Based off real-life role-play. I am, of course, Japan (even though my official character is N. Italy, I play Japan every once and awhile for Tobi). Enjoy~
P.s. I do not own Axis Power-Hetalia.
Warnings: Randomness, implied sexual and awkward situations, language.
America vs Japan: Respect My Culture! (Don't Touch, Don't Talk)
ClapYourHandsEverybody!
Japan really wished Alfred would respect his culture more. The continuous touching… it simply wasn't proper. The Japanese man could handle hugs easier now (one had to except them when Italy was your friend), but the American didn't seem to know the meaning of personal space. Even Italy knew Japan's limit.
"Onegai, Amerika-san, please refrain from poking me." The poking continued, and Japan awkwardly tried to shift away from the touchy American while keeping his eyes on the computer screen.
"Hey Kiku, what does 'refrain' mean?"
"It means stop, Amerika-san."
"Oh."
But the poking didn't stop. Japan held back an oath, arching his back away from the incessant finger, which had somehow gotten under his shirt. The touch tickled, as lightly as it fluttered across his skin. Or it stung, with hard jabs. Either way, the touch bothered Japan greatly.
"A-Amerika-san. Please, stop." America just grinned.
"But Kiku~!" He whined, stopping with a pout. Japan's sigh of relief didn't last long, however, as America draped himself over the smaller nation.
"Hug!"
"Na-na-na-na-ni?"
"Hahahaha~~"
"A-a-amerika-san, please get off!"
"Kiku!"
Japan desperately tired to push the other off him, but was efficiently pined on the couch under the other weight. With his free hand, Japan held on to the forgotten computer.
"You must take responsibility!" He cried out, pushing harder. America paused, bewildered.
"Wha?"
"No-nothing, Amerika-san. Now please, get off me."
"Why?" Alfred whined, clinging tighter.
"Be-because it's very inappropriate!"
"How so?" Kiku blushed, looking away. His hand finally moved from Alfred's chest and he now clutched the computer with both hands. "Because we're both guys, right? It's not right…"
America continued to look confused, and Japan just sighed and shook his head. "Never mind, America-san."
"Okay, Kiku!"
To Japan, it was like a cycle. America would start poking him, he would ask for him to "please stop", America would ask why, he would answer, and then the other would somehow say something that embarrassed Japan. Repeat. It was starting to get on Japan normally saintly patients.
Japan left out a long suffering sigh and returned his eyes to the computer screen. There was blissful, blissful silence for several moments.
"Hey Kiku, what'cha reading?"
"Oh um… stuff."
"What kinda stuff."
"Stories."
"What kind?"
Japan paused, debating. To tell or not to tell? On one hand, America might never let him live this down. On the other… "Fanfiction."
"'Bout what?" Japan silently groaned in his head.
"I can't tell you that, Amerika-san. It would break the Fourth Wall."
"The-Wha?"
"Never mind, Amerika-san."
"But I wanna know~!"
"Amerika-" Said American proceeded to glomp the Asian.
"Alfred!" America grinned.
"I won't let go until you tell me, Kiku." In his head, America cheered as he made Japan lose his indifferent exterior.
"Very well, Amerika-san. It's… it's a fan fiction about Ludwig-san and Feliciano-san."
"Who? Oh! You mean Germany and Italy."
"Hai, Amerika-san."
For a while the blond didn't speak, so Japan turned back to his story.
"You're a pervert, Kiku?" The question startled Japan, who jumped and blushed. "Wha-what? No!" He stuttered. America grinned.
"Sure~ Kiku's a pervert, Kiku's a pervert.~" Blushing a darker shade of red, Japan started sliding down the couch while clutching the computer tightly in shaking hands. Once on the floor he placed the computer down and made to stand up when a weight pushed him down. "Nani!" He shrieked. Above him, America laughed.
"Hi-ya-ah!"
"You're not a cowboy anymore!" Japan shouted, trying to push himself up. He used all his strength, but there was a reason he never fought America in hand-to-hand combat.
"Amerika-san, get off!"
"Why?"
"Because I'm not a horse, you're not a cowboy, and you're really heavy!"
"… Is that a fat joke?" Japan froze, horrified. Before he knew it, America had flipped him around and sat heavily on his hips. The smaller male gasped, unable to breath normally, scared at his friends unusually dark face. "Well?" The American grabbed his wrists- his hands having been trying to push him off- and pinned them to the floor.
"I said, 'was that a fat joke'?" Japan quickly shook his head. "I-iie! Iie! I just- you're just- You're just heavier than me, larger than me. I'm smaller than you. So you were… you were crushing me, Amerika-san. Please, get off. I-I can't breath that well." The bisected one did nothing for a minute, and Japan had the terrible thought that he would start beating him up. But the thought passed when America let go of his wrist and stood up.
"Oh, okay then!" He hummed as he went back to the couch and Japan tried to calm down. He sighed in relief. His friend was really quite scary when mad. Soon he moved to get up, grabbed the computer, and sat on the opposite side of the couch (away from America) to continue reading. He was just starting to relax when he felt a finger poke his side again, making him yelp and look accusingly at a laughing America.
Japan really wished Alfred would respect his culture more.
AndEverybodyJustClapYourHands!
Authoress (extra) note: Don't you just feel so bad for Japan (me)? And yes, that really happened. Only the horse thing happened a couple of times before the one about the fat joke (bad wording on my part got me almost dragged around the whole room ^^'). Oh yes, pity me. Next chapter- America vs. Italy: My Food Is Better Than Yours! (Fast Food Debate)
Review.
Yours Truly,
Broken
