A/N: HURRAH, HURRAH. I AM NOT DEAD. XDD This is my very first posted Hetalia story, for those who don't know. Sorry, TFP fans! ^^'' I've been sucked into new fandommm x^X
Well, I know it's terribly unedited-I wrote this fairly late into the night, and my brain was tired and not working properly~ :''D SAVE ME. HALP. HALP.
R&R! 33

Britain had decided that day to stay at the meeting table, instead of leaving as the others did. He didn't do it often—World Meetings weren't his favorite place to be. Much more than half the time, the countries just bickered meaninglessly. It was just frustrating all around, and he began to associate that feeling with the room. He just instantly went into a sour mood whenever he walked in.
But this book was way too interesting, and he didn't feel like moving right then.
So he just sat, alone. And he read.
This prose, quite ironically, could only be compared to poetry. The talented writer was able to easily blend the words together into a marvelous tearjerker.
England sighed contentedly, deciding to rest his mind from the book. He laughed quietly to himself, remembering that every time he did this, he seemed to get himself in astonishingly different subjects. Oh, where to start? He let his head fall back, thinking back to the meeting. Well…it wasn't as unpleasant as most, but a particular Frenchman couldn't seem to leave him alone that day. Britain had to constantly ignore the seductive looks and smooching sounds… Involuntarily, he felt his face contort into a disgusted frown. God, how he hated him…
Oh, well. The day was nice. It was getting a little late—almost dinner already. But it was summer, and there was still gentle lavender light to the wispy clouds.
Almost dinner…he closed his eyes, silently acknowledging his sudden thirst. Is it too late to get himself a drink? Surely not.
Reluctantly, Britain pushed out from the table and rose to his feet. A single gloved hand ran through his hair as he made his way to the mini-fridge in the corner of the room. Well, there was certainly no time to make a cup of tea. Besides, he wanted something cold…
Without much second thought, the United Kingdom grabbed a bottle of water.
By the time he flopped back down onto his seat, he had already opened it and taken a couple of swigs. Almost immediately, he returned to his open book. He had barely read the first couple words, when—
"Just water? Artie, man, I thought you were better than that!"
Britain near jumped out of his skin, whipping his head around bewilderedly to the one next to him.
…Well, of course. Who else would stay behind with him? The blond hair, pale blue eyes, and cowlick were easily identifiable, as was his vintage bomber jacket. England shook his head in mock disdain, looking back to his book. The small smile was hard to miss, though.
"America," he began, unnecessarily drawling out the vowels. "What brings you here?" He surprised himself with how comfortable he was around the other.
The US just smiled, easily reclining in his chair. "Oh, no reason in particular. I guess I just came to check on you."
England looked up from his book, thick eyebrows raised slightly. It got him every time—America always acted so dumb in public, but he was always ready to open up more. Despite what most thought, the young country really did have a personality.
"Hmm…?" The UK shook his head and returned to his book. However, the book no longer held interest for him. At this point, he was just skimming the pages absentmindedly.

Silence.
Britain mentally frowned, wondering why the US wasn't saying anything.
"…The weather's nice. It's summer. Isn't that great?" America grinned at him, cowlick bobbing excitedly.
Britain shook once, as if he was starting to silently laugh. "Well…I suppose it is. Oh, look, it's starting to rain," Britain remarked, eyes lidded as if he was tired.
America nodded his head slowly, seeing the raindrops fall as well. He glanced over to Britain, who was hunched over his book in an almost protective manner. His bushy brows were knit together in contemplation, but his eyes gave away everything. It wasn't that hard to read England—he obviously wasn't reading. His mind was elsewhere. Where? He didn't know.

Britain froze instinctively as America dropped his head onto his shoulder, shuddering as blond hair brushed against his neck. He didn't, however, protest; instead, he continued 'reading'.
"What're ya reading?" America's voice was in a comically loud whisper, right at his ears. The green-eyed Nation grunted, though he was trying to hide a smile. "Ever-Heart. It's a new romance series by Ulysses Samuel-Unger Simpson**. Why do you ask?" The Nation smiled coyly at the younger, cocking a brow.
America made a face. "Eww. Romance. Why do you even read this stuff?" Without warning, he snatched up the book and held it at a distance.
"Hey! Give that back right now, you wanker!" Britain protested, pushing himself from the table in immediate response.
"No way!" The US stuck his tongue and blew a raspberry, backing off a couple steps and raising 'Ever-Heart' high in the air, far from England's reach.
The older Nation huffed, stepping up on tiptoe to try and reach it—to no avail. "Goddamn your height..!" He grit between teeth, trying not to join the blue-eyed Nation in his laughter.
"Dude, this is pathetic. Come get it, Artie~!" Alfred mocked him shamelessly, making taunting faces playfully.
Britain gave one last irritated grunt—then yanked America's collar. Easily, he pulled the Nation down to his height and pressed their lips together. Hard.
There was no protest, but America was incredibly silent. Eventually, though, he began returning the kiss, tugging lightly on Britain's shirt sleeve.
Smiling into it, England flawlessly reached over and took his book back. He pulled away at last, setting the book on the table.
"Don't take my books away from me," The UK scolded him good-naturedly, shaking a finger at him. He couldn't help chuckling at the dumb look America gave him, grinning wide.
The older was still standing for a bit, gazing blankly at the large windows to the outdoors. The rain was steady now—not yet full, but much more than a drizzle.
America sat down in his chair, frowning when the Nation before him didn't do the same.

England's brows shot up, but he didn't make a sound as he was dragged into the US's lap.
"Y'know," America started, head against Britain's neck, "I saw the way France was looking at you earlier today."
Britain raised an eyebrow, glancing back towards the other. "Oh?"
The United States shook his head, blowing a puff of air into the other's blonde mess of hair. "I didn't like it."
England closed his eyes and laughed as America's legs, as well as his arms, wrapped around him. A single hand was placed over one of the USA's, and he let his head fall back against a firm chest. "You're still such a child," He breathed contentedly, smiling softly.
America ignored him, instead rocking his head to the side. "I guess you could say I'm jealous."
The UK said nothing, but silently mouthed the word several times over. "…Jealous?" He echoed at last, gesturing slightly with his head.
"I suppose… I don't want anyone else looking at you the way that I do." America pulled him closer, letting his legs relax and gently spoon Britain's.

England could've laughed. Ohh, he didn't like to say they were a couple, but it definitely seemed like it. According to the facts, they had been together for the past several months. America was still an annoying twat, but he loved him for it.
And there was no one else he'd rather be with.

A/N: Whoop, that was it! :'D Well, I hope it wasn't such a pain to read~ eWe''
Also! **Check his initials. Huehuehuedhkjehkajg. 8D

R&R! ^^