England's POV

It had been too long. America has been rattling on for the past few hours about utterly pointless things, and I'd just about had enough. I probably looked a bit too eager as Alfred slowly unbuttoned his shirt, sensually sliding his fingers along the cotton… But hey. Even gentlemen needed to get down and dirty every so often.

I gazed at him through half-lidded eyes. "You don't need to do that, love." I slid off the bed and towards him, gently pushing his hands away and kneeling down in front of him. He gasped as I palmed him through his jeans, then swiftly removed his shirt. I eyed his stomach for a while.

"You've certainly put on a lot of weight." I said, finally.

"Haha! No way, man. This is just muscle." He flexed. He certainly had well built biceps, but you could hardly say the same for his abdomen.

"Mmhm. I'm sure." I poked the pudge, slightly amused at the way it jiggled. "You could probably pass as pregnant by looks of it." I joked. "I mean, you definitely weren't this… voluptuous last time we did it. Which was only a couple of weeks ago, if I do recall correctly."

"Wha- stop being so mean!" My boyfriend wrapped his arms around his stomach and scowled threateningly- well, as threatening as he could get. It was America, after all. "Or else you won't be gettin' any."

"Oh, that's quite alright. I wouldn't want to put too much on your body… You wouldn't want to risk getting worn out, hmm?" I teased.

"I won't get worn out! I have amazing heroic stamina! If anything, you'll be the one getting worn out…" He cast a sly look in my direction.

"Ah, are you sure? I heard one of the nasty side effects of obesity is premature ejaculation." The blond spluttered, his face turning a furious red.

"Don't- are you- what are you talking about?! I wouldn't... Jeez! What's wrong with you- I'm not obese, Christ- and I definitely won't be cuming the earliest! How could you even… Arghhh!" He stumbled over his words. "Fine. I hope you have fun with your hand. Wouldn't want to ruin sex with my obesiness." He said indignantly, then stormed off.

"Probably to sulk in the kitchen." I said to myself, chuckling.

I felt a tiny bit bad at picking fun at what was obviously an insecurity. In all honesty, I found his baby fat rather cute. He was also quite cute when he was flustered. (I didn't just think that, if anyone asks.)

Besides, he'd just bounce back in the morning. He was pretty much immune to insults.

I heard a car door slam. Oh. Okay. Maybe not then. I grimaced slightly, hoping that my boyfriend would be okay. I really needed to stop saying such stupid things.

"Hey! Arthur! Wake up, dude. I have super exciting news!" I groaned and forced my eyes open. It was still dark, what on earth did that bloody idiot thinks he was doing? I sat up, trying to collect myself. Which wasn't easy to do, considering it was- a quick glance at the alarm- 4:53am.

"You better have a good reason for waking me up before nine on a weekend." I grumbled, my voice slightly groggy. "And I thought you left last night?"

"We're going to have a baby, Arthur! And you're the father!" I stared at my spouse for a while. Why did I ever think it would be a good idea to date such a… Ugh. It was much too early to think of a good word. I flopped back down and buried my face in the pillow.

"Hey! Listen to me! This is very important." I suddenly found myself being flipped over. Alfred pouted at me, his blue eyes flickering with- was that worry?

"Go to sleep." I mumbled, pushing him away. He didn't budge. If anything, his grip tightened.

"Aren't you happy? Would you prefer I told you in a better way? Oh crap, I knew I should have thrown a party. I just wanted you to know straight away.. Was I too hasty? Too straight forward? I think-"

"I'm not in the mood for your stupid jokes, Alfred."

"But Artie~" His pout intensified. "You're going to be dad!"

"Don't be so stupid, prat. It's too bloody early, and I'm not going to fall for it." He at least has the decency to look put-out. I was ready to roll back over and catch a few more hours of shuteye, before the assault of words came back in full in force.

"How can you be so cruel?" He demanded, shaking me furiously. "Why are you being like this?"

"Why are you being so ridiculous?" I shot back.

"How do you except me to raise this child alone? It need's a father!" He shook me harder. I mentally berated myself for never bothering to teach him how to control his strength- I knew it would one day come back to bite me in the but. It felt as though my brain was rattling against my skull.

"Leave me alone." I pleaded.

"Fine. I would have thought you would be more sympathetic." He sniffed. "Don't think you won't get out of paying child support."

"You don't even have child support, America." (CHECK THE FACTS)

"I will soon!" He yelled. "Just you wait. All your money will drain away, and every penny you spend will be a second that you never got with to spend with our beautiful son or daughter. You'll live with a regret larger than the sum of money you'll have to pay… by order of the law. And every night you'll dream about what how you missed out on such a wonderful family life, and…"

I tuned out his nonsense and went back to sleep.

Later, I woke up at 10:30, feeling spectacular and well rested but slightly put out by the fact I had missed out on a good portion of the morning. I didn't bother getting dressed and made my way to kitchen in search of a good cup of tea.

Half way through the process of waiting for the water to boil, a familiar blond trudged in and went straight to the fridge. I watched him for a while, a little unsure if he was still continuing with his silly joke. If he was, I wasn't going to speak to him.

However, after a long moment of silence I quickly realised that I had to be the one to initiate conversation. "How are you today, Alfred?" I asked, testing the waters.

He glanced over, eyes briefly skimming over my form before closing the fridge. "Oh, I'm good. No morning sickness today, luckily."

…

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

I sighed heavily, rubbing my temple. "Are you honestly continuing this joke? I would have thought you had cut it out by now." Breaking my own rule by speaking to him, mind you.

"It's not a joke, Iggy." He insisted. "This is completely truly real."

"Use proper grammar, you twat, and my proper name. Also, you're not pregnant."

"I am! You said so yourself!"

"And when was that, pray tell?"

"The other day- yesterday, actually- you said, 'Ah, Alfred m'lad, you're so fat! You must be pregnant! Bah humbug bloody hell.' Or something like that." I cringed at the awful attempt of a British accent. How dare he butcher my articulate way of speaking with such a horrible mockery..

"I do not speak like that! And besides, I only said that you look pregnant- not that you actually were."

"Yes, I thought so to, but then I started to wonder… What if I actually was? I mean, it's been about three or four months since you last topped, and that's usually when women start to get rounder-"

"My point exactly. Women get rounder. Not men. And certainly not nations."

"So I decided to take a pregnancy test, y'know?" He continued to babble on, ignoring me. "It was totally awkward, buying it and all, but I couldn't just order one online… It would take too long!"

"Are you even listening to me?"

"So after watching a few YouTube tutorials, I figured out what to do, and, guess what, it was positive! I also didn't end up getting very much sleep last night…"

"… I can't believe you did all of that." I glanced at him through my fingers, which and had made their way to my forehead again. He had an oblivious expression on, just like always. "Wait, yes I can. Did you ever think about the possibility that it may have malfunctioned?"

"Malfunctioned?" Alfred seemed to consider this for a moment. "Pfft, of course not, it was American! And everyone knows that American things are the best in the world~"

"Oh, blimey.."

"'Specially snuggies, amirite? So warm and toasty. Just like the bun in my oven, ahaha! I'll probably wear my snuggie everywhere when I get into the late months. My clothes definitely won't fit by then."

I added 'do not use metaphors around Alfred' onto my mental not-to-do list, then began to ignore him in favour of making tea. This is what you get for dating him, I reminded myself. You set yourself up for idiocy from the very start.

"Hehe, I'm so excited!" He giggled. "Lets convert your spare room into a nursery! You never use it for anything, so don't even try to change my mind. It'll be perfect- just needs a little dusting, that's all. I'll do it, since I guess I'm kinda the mum, right? I think we should paint it blue, red and white since both of our flags have those colours! That's gender-neutral, I 'spose. Since red is kinda like pink. Plus then they'd be super patriotic from the moment they're born. I wonder if they'll be more American or British? Ah, who cares, I'll love them either way!"

I slowly stirred my tea while watching him chatter excitedly. His eyes seemed to shine brighter with every word and his smile was so wide I almost feared his face would crack under the strain. Nothing new, of course. He was always smiling and his eyes always twinkled, but I knew that it would stop for a while if I convinced him that we weren't having a child. He was obviously very happy over the prospect of a baby.

Sighing, I knew in my heart I would have to tell him the truth. It would be tough to get it through his thick skull, and once he knew… it would probably hurt him a lot. Oh well, I guess he'd just have to suck it up.

"Alfred, there's something I need to tell you, and I need you to listen very carefully." I interrupted his spiel. "It's very important."

"Ah.. Okey dokey. Can you please make some scones while you do it though? I can't already tell this is gonna take forever, so you may as well do something productive, huh?"

"Okay, I'll just-" I stopped, my brain whirring. "Scones?" He nodded eagerly. I glared. "What for? So you can make fun of my 'terrible' cooking? I don't think so."

"But Art-iiieee! I'm craving them! What the baby wants, the baby must get!"

…

"Artie? Why'dya look so happy?"

"I'll have them ready as soon as possible." I promised.

It wouldn't hurt to play along for a bit, wouldn't it? I mean, it's not like I wanted to see him sad… Christ. This is what I get for falling in love with a git. Well, if he wanted scones, I certainly wasn't going to complain. And it would only be for a little while. He wasn't so stupid as to actually think he had been impregnated, was he? It would wear off.