On the Swim Team Together

Chapter 1

England stood rooted to the spot, horrified at the sight before him. People bustled noisily around him unaware of the man's dismay. The noise swelled as more people noticed the small slip of paper tacked onto the wall in front of England. The small crowd expanded as murmurs spread around the school, 'The list for the school swim team is out.'

'Good on ya England!' someone patted him on the back in encouragement. He shook himself and woke from his stupor. Cursing under his breath, he turned away to find himself centimeters away from a pair of brilliant blue eyes.

'Hey England!' America grinned wildly, 'Guess who else is on the swim team?'

England grunted non-responsively. America raised an eyebrow and pointed to himself, concluding that he was being too subtle for the incompetent country. England rolled his eyes and shoved America away. 'We'll game on then hey!' America shouted after the retreating man. America stared quizzically into the blend of shuffling people. Geez, he thought, that was pretty harsh, even for England.

As England hurried away, his face was flushed with anger. Great, just what he needed. That moron was on his swimming team. This was completely going to ruin his day. Now he'll have to listen to America boast about how fit he is and hear him say how useless England was. Oh well, he sighed, at least if they were on the same team they wouldn't have to compete with each other. Not that it would stop them.

Loud discussions and conversations greeted America as he climbed onto the bus. It was a cool day but the small atmosphere crammed with so many people gave the bus unearthly warmth. He looked around in dismay. All the seats had been taken. He saw England also standing, at the back of the bus and decided to go for it.

Eyeing him warily, America approached him, forcing a smile, 'Hey England! You ready for a hero to be recognized?' England turned around to retort something but just as he did the bus lurched forward into motion. He careered into America, knocking him forcefully to the floor. They both froze momentarily in shock, not realizing how close their bodies were. England flushed a dark shade of crimson as he noticed their noses were touching. He felt a sudden urge just to lean forward those few extra centimeters. America pushed England off and felt a slight resistance. He looked up, stunned, and saw the intense longing in the others eyes. 'Arthur?' he whispered softly, frightened by his reaction. England collected himself and got to his feet embarrassed, deliberately avoiding the others gaze. Suppressed smirks and giggles from fellow team members turned into loud peals of laughter. America got to his feet brushing of the uncomfortable situation with a smile. For the rest of the bus trip, the two stood in awkward silence with America occasionally glancing at England. He couldn't forget that look in England's fiery eyes, It was haunting his thoughts.

'50 metre freestyle heat 1' blared the megaphone tonelessly. The sun burned down on the gradually filling stadium. The water glided silently down the pool, rippling as the boundaries hindered it freedom. America sat down with a bump and sighed contentedly. Stretching his hands behind his head he closed his eyes and let the sun bathe him in a warm glow. A noise beside him made him open one eye sleepily. He scanned over the tousled blonde hair and thick eyebrows of the Englishman.

America smiled and rolled over. 'You always come crawling back to me, don't you!'

England's frown deepened and he crossed his arms in annoyance. 'Don't you bloody start. I didn't choose to sit here you know.' America looked around and raised his eyebrows in disbelief, the stadium was still practically empty. 'O-okay,' he began, changing tactics, 'Well its not as though I would sit next to any of the other countries. I mean Italy will just talk non-stop and.....annoy me......stupid noise...ve......talk......' he trailed off.

America smirked unpersuaded.

'So anyway, what's your first race?' England awkwardly changed the subject.

'Well, I'm in everything, naturally.' America got up. 'Actually I should start getting ready to go.' He unzipped his stars and stripes tracksuit to reveal matching Speedos.

'Whoa!' England cried, shielding his eyes with his hands, 'Are you just going to wear that?'

'But of course' he replied grinning. 'Why England, do I intimidate you?'

England blushed. 'N-no' he stammered, uncomfortable. 'Stop that!' he shouted, as America stretched shamelessly in front off him.

'Aren't you in any races old man?' America teased.

'Who you calling old man you git!' England shoved America forcefully, a smile playing on his lips. He stripped off his tracksuit to display a much more modest swimsuit in comparison to the American's.

'Game on?' England held out his hand.

'Game on.' agreed America, grasping his hand firmly and grinning widely.

'On your marks, get set....' The gun fire echoed throughout the stadium. America leapt off the platform gracefully and streamlined through the water. His head broke the surface and he could see he was the first in line followed closely by Australia. The water enclosed him again and he began to pick up the pace. As he surfaced to breathe, the roar of the crowd filled his ears and he smiled inwardly. A burst of adrenalin pumped through his veins and he accelerated. The water rippled around him as he glided effortlessly. He could see the end of the pool drawing near, spurring him on. His face was set in determination and he could almost taste success. His arms were burning as he put all his energy into it. He reached out and touched the wall with both hands, hearing the uproar of the crowd at his victory. Breathless with exhaustion and excitement, he humbly shook hands with Australia who had come in 2nd. He turned to the other lane and grabbed England in a tight embrace, squeezing the breath out of him. The other nation pulled away, embarrassed, but happy for him.

'Good job' he said, clapping a hand on America's back and smiling despite himself.

America soaked in all the excitement, beaming in joy.