England was sat on his sofa, which was placed towards the back of his house. This, he thought, was one of the best places in his house. It was situated in front of a large window which overlooked the river at the back of his garden. This is what separated him and his neighbour's house, which was good because my lord, his house was noisy. France was one for parties, the type that England was not fond of. He would often look out across the river and see France beckoning to him to come join the party. England would always put up a hand to him, to signal that no, he would not step onto the other man's land unless absolutely necessary, which luckily for England, wasn't very often.

At this particular moment, France's house was relatively quiet apart from the occasional creepy laugh. France and his boss did have an unusual way of relaxing. The waft of strong cheese carried over to England's house, his face twisting in utter disgust. He'd tried to sort out this problem by placing sweet scented candles and lavender in his garden but nothing worked, the smell still managed to work its way over the river and somehow penetrate his navel cavity. England cursed under his breath, 'bloody bastard,' stomping back, further into his home where he couldn't smell the presence of 'that frog'.

It was a much different story later that evening though. After all the smell had diffused into the upper atmosphere, England went back into his living room to sit and admire his garden. Suddenly, music erupted from the house across the river. England's hand found its' way to his face and it placed itself firmly below his eyebrows, massaging them as he sighed. Another night to watch him get drunk. Another night to watch him take advantage of his girls. Another night like this, like every other night. Sure enough, the frog poked his head outside his house and beckoned to the ever frustrated England, who plainly shook his head. Apparently, the frog wanted to be more annoying than usual so he took the whole party outside. This wasn't the first time that he had done this but England had never really seen what had happened much after this because the music had always been so loud and unbearable that he would retreat into his Mini with a cup of tea and the paper, turning the radio up on Classic FM to try to drown out the sound. Classic FM was about the best radio station on air around his house, the youths didn't really have the best taste in music, and pop techno beats weren't really his style. Occasionally he could bear the music on Heart or Kerrang! but that was about his limit. Today though, England didn't retreat to his precious Mini, he just sat, watching. The standard of his day hadn't been very high and it had tired him out. Laziness had won in the battle to get up so there he sat, watching France and his boss, throw this party.

As England watched, he saw some of the people who regularly turned up to parties like this. Prussia was out in the middle of the makeshift dance floor they had in France's back garden, he was surrounded by women in bikinis all with beers in hand. Prussia himself had two beers and was severely drunk, one beer he took huge chugs from and the other he used to pour over himself and whatever woman happened to be with him at the time. Also there was Germany, who was more civilised, just enjoying the free beer. Denmark was there with a couple of other Nordic countries that England couldn't make out and didn't too much care to name.

Whilst England was taking in the whole atmosphere, the doorbell rang. The sound of the first ring was absorbed by the many assortment of objects in England's house and the sound was nothing compared to the music coming from Frances party but the second time, England heard it, during a gap in one of the songs. He jumped up very suddenly and walked over to the front door, peering through the peep hole in his door before opening it, very gladly, to a beaming American.

'There was a party at France's, but it was getting really crowded and noisy so I decided to pay you a visit whilst I was over this way,' He smiled wide and England returned the smile. 'Can I come chill for a bit?' He asked, his eyes looking straight into England's. They had a warm feel, even though they were a bright blue, it was hard to tell that America was even slightly related to him. England knew him so well, that when he said, 'yeah sure,' he knew America would head straight to th-

'You're kitchen is so boring,' the American shouted to England who was still standing with the door wide open, lost in his own thoughts. He shut the door carefully, as per usual, and walked into the kitchen. 'It's in the microwave for you so stop rifling through my fridge; I only tidied it this morning,' England sighed and gently moved America out of the way so he could rearrange the fridge, that the Yankee had just messed up so terribly.

'Sweet, you got me-'

'The one with extra cheese and chilli, yes, I did remember from last time, sometimes I think you have little faith in me,'

'I have faith in you, sure,' America said, a little less enthusiastic than before. Slowly he turned around, 'I have so little faith you'll find a chick though,' He smirked, 'another failed date, wow man, I didn't think you were that bad,' He paused and then put one of his huge hands on England's shoulder, 'Maybe the women just don't like you, you should keep all your options open man,' England looked up from the fridge at the man and he thought for a second that America had something in his eye. Wait, no, was America winking at him? Blushing, he turned back to the fridge, which was already all tidy again but England didn't want America to see him blushing under his thick blond fringe, so he continued to unstack and re-stack the fridge. Not getting the reaction he had hoped for, America retreated from the room with Hamburger and coke in hand.

America sat on the sofa in England's lounge. He sat in the dark, slurping his coke because he didn't want to go turn on the light. That was too much effort at this time of night. Another reason he left it off was because he didn't want England to come in a find him with red eyes. America didn't really like England's house, it was too crowded and everything was very close together, with random things in random places. America's house was really spacious and clean, with lots of open spaces, it was also really sunny most of the time, especially at the back of the house because of the huge glass windows which let in tons of well needed light. The only reason that he left his haven, was to come see England. The party was just his excuse to come over because hell, America always needed an excuse to see England. Ever since he had become independent, America had missed England and for a while they didn't even speak. In that time America had been so lost, he had been, well, depressed was a good word to describe some of it. He never got over that. Ever.

It was America who had started talking to England again, and even then, he had been distant, probably still in shock about what had happened. It was only very recently that the two men had become such close friends again. There was still a sort of invisible wall between them and America didn't like it. He hadn't wanted to cause all that damage to England. Never. He had protested against it but his boss made the final decisions and he went along with it in the end. It had taken all his courage to knock that gun out of his hand because America knew it had to be done. He knew that if he didn't, his time as a country would have been over. Just like Prussia and Romano, America couldn't live forever under someone else's rule and even though, he wanted to stay with England forever. He wanted it to be just like it was before, when England had treated him like a brother, the closest family he had. After everything happened, England had no-one, he pushed everyone away. America had felt solely responsible for this so afterwards had made a huge effort to repay something that was forever debited to him. Tears were forming on the bottom of his eye lid, his eyes stung from staring at one point. So America curled into a ball on England's sofa, covered by his own leather jacket, surrounded by bad memories and the smell of his former brother.

After re-stacking it completely, twice over, England was getting a bit bored of the fridge. He was kind of in a trance, thinking about what America had said and wondering why he winked. The whole time, England felt really thick. He was so oblivious to what it could mean, so he went to make a well-deserved cup of tea. As he took the first sip, the conversation running through his mind, he suddenly realised why America had winked and what he had meant by 'keep all your options open.' England blushed, his hands getting shaky. He had been oblivious all this time, so stupid as to brush America's feelings aside as just fun, playing because England still thought of him as just a boy. America, however, was not a boy anymore and he had his own independent thoughts and feelings. England, every so often, seemed to forget this. 'God,' he thought, 'how could I have been so stupid!' Leaving his tea on the desk, he rushed out of the room and to the living room where he knew America had headed.

When he got to the living room, he slowed to a halt. The room wasn't bathed in light as he expected and behind the door was dark, with the only light source being from France's party, which would be going on throughout the night. England pushed the door open slowly and it made a slight creaking noise as it swung open, then making a slight thud on the wall behind. It took him a few seconds to locate America in the dark room, after his eyes had half adjusted. He was curled up in a ball on the sofa, facing away from him, underneath his jacket. The house wasn't cold but England guessed that it was to block out the remainder of the light from France's party. He walked over to the large ball of leather on his sofa and sat down next to it. The ball rose and fell in a regular motion, soft noises emitting from it, a sure indicator that he was definitely asleep. England leaned over and pulled the jacket from over his head.

America's hands were tucked neatly into his chest and his hair was messy where the jacket had been laying on top of it. His glasses had fallen down his nose to the point that the only thing holding them to his face was his ears. America's knees were pulled up tight to his chest and his feet, which were sockless, were tucked down the gap between the sofa cushions to hold his knees up. The coke bottle, which he had found in one of England's cupboards, was half empty on the floor at his feet and there were crumbs on the front of his shirt. England smiled like a proud parent, things like this just made him feel all warm inside. America sleeping was one of the best things that England could ever choose to see, he was so cute and England's heart fluttered. Removing his feet from the crevice, England re-positioned America's until he was lying on the sofa just like a bed, a new blanket placed on top of him to keep him warm. When England was satisfied with how America was now sleeping on the sofa, he kneeled on the floor so his head was in line with America's and he did what any parent would do to their sleeping child, he went in to-

The movement was so sudden; England didn't have much time to react. Suddenly England was pulled into a long, sensuous kiss. America's hand was soft against his check and England immediately turned red. At first, he was considering pulling away from the American, but he could smell America's cologne and feel his breath and England was swept away. Slowly, he lifted a hand to the back of America's head and started to massage it through the back of his hair. His hair was soft and from this close proximity he could smell honey, probably the shampoo that he had used to wash his hair. America responded immediately to the motion by slowly moving his hand past England's ear and back into the scruff of his neck. He gently tugged the short hairs, making England groan a bit as a result. America smiled through the kiss, his heart fluttering and beating like crazy. America, after a minute, America decided that he wanted to make a move, so using his far superior strength, he broke the kiss and swept England, literally off his feet and his place on the floor, pulling him closer until they were both a sprawl on the sofa, locked in each other's embrace.