Sorry for not updating in a (long) while! We sure had a lot of ideas and prompts, but we just didn't have the motivation.
This time, we're planning on posting a series Hetalia fics, mostly USUK and SpaMano. Azure is the writer for USUK ones, and Cerulean for the SpaMano ones.
Special thanks to DezzieGraza for supporting us so much. Thanks, dude!
Also, sorry if this one's suck-ish.
Disclaimer : We own nothing.
Ah, another world conference. The meeting was progressing normally, so far.
By 'normal', I mean chaotic and not productive at all.
Before the lunch break was announced, everyone was arguing like they've gone bollocks! Scratch that. Perhaps they already have.
England sighed as he leaned back in his chair. These meetings are hardly ever useful – all they ever do is bicker, argue, attempt to fix up the conference, and end up bickering some more. As a result, almost everyone would make a beeline for the exit almost immediately when the host country announces the start of the break.
Okay, maybe he joined in the chaos too. But it was for legitimate reasons! It wasn't his fault a lot of them proposed out-of-this-world ideas!
As per usual, he could feel a migraine coming up. Bloody hell, couldn't they all just agree on something? After centuries of having these conferences, one would think he would have gotten used to it. But, alas, his ears never got a hang of the torturous bickering of varying tones; from shrieking with the pitch of very upset parrots, to shouting with the power of a whale's cry.
Both sides of the scale grate on his nerves, and he just had the luck of bearing the brunt of the ear-splitting sounds when he got caught up between an angry Hungarian spouting high-pitched curses at a certain chuckling Frenchman.
The frog's "Ohonhonhon~" didn't resemble a whale's bellow, but it still annoyed him all the same.
What a wonderful way to start a week – with a headache that made nearly every sound above speech volume sound like nails on a chalkboard.
In the midst of his internal complaints, he was completely preoccupied with his thoughts. The world seemed to have been blurred out as he focused on the depths of his mind, attempting to somehow get that pounding in his head to sod off; all the while, pinching the bridge of his nose and glaring at his papers as if he was trying to burn them with just his gaze. Nothing else mattered right now.
That is, until a flash of golden blonde suddenly blocked his view – and he felt another pair of lips come in contact with his. His emerald optics widened in shock (he wasn't the only one, apparently; there were gasps heard around the room), and let out a strangled sound of surprise when a tongue took advantage of his state and easily pried through, then quickly pushed something that left a familiar taste in his mouth down his throat. The kiss only lasted for two seconds or three, and just like that, the blonde pulled away just as fast as he got up in his face.
As soon as his lips were free, England was prepared to explode and curse the person that dared to pull such a bold move. However, the moment his eyesight cleared up, he was faced with the profile of an extremely familiar American, who was grinning stupidly from ear to ear, bright blue eyes seeming to glow in glee as they gazed at him from behind his glasses.
America had just kissed him.
In the conference room, to boot – he could feel the other nations' eyes on them! As soon as the initial surprise wore off, chuckles, snickers, and gushes resonated inside the room.
His face promptly exploded into a bright pink hue as reality and realization sunk in (or rather, slapped him in the face) much like a grand piano being dropped from a fourth story window, and he happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
He started spluttering hastily. Neither his mouth nor mind could come up with a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. Centuries of having English as his native language and being a fluent Englishman seemed to just go down the drain. America was practically rolling on the floor and clutching his stomach, laughing his guts out from the hilarity of it all.
"A-America! What was that for, you twat?!" he (finally) spluttered indignantly, quickly rising from his chair, fully intending to give the younger nation a what-for. His face was on fire, by now, judging from America's increased in volume.
What a bloody git.
America's smile didn't dim a watt once he finally straightened himself out, even as the Brit angrily demanded for an explanation.
"You seemed like you needed some aspirin!" was his simple explanation before he high-tailed out of the room with a wink, before England could say anything else.
England turned halfway away from the younger nation's initial direction and crossed his arms with a huff. After a moment, however, he raised a hand up to gingerly touch the spot where America's lips came in contact with his lips. What a good remedy for headaches – he was so surprised that he practically forgot he was irritated by the uselessness of the conferences in the first place! Either that, or the aspirin was just working better than usual.
If his doses of aspirin were all delivered by kisses from that git, then maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.
Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it, 'cause I'm pretty sure this one sucked. Don't forget to review and tell us what you think - all opinions and things that you just want to get off your mind about this thing are accepted! Message us if you want to tell us something else, okay? We'd love to chat!