A/N: Prompt for Random4ever. I was lazy and I don't actually really like this prompt ^_^U Heh, I'll be honest, I just wanted to write Drunk!England. And I had to fit in RoChu; it was just too go an opportunity to pass up. UsUk, sort of, if you squint...
Alfred F. Jones, otherwise known as the United States of America, was roused from his sleep at two o'clock in the morning by loud banging, even louder swearing, and someone screaming at him to get his fat, lazy ass out of bed before they broke in through the windows. Now, America usually isn't the one to take things such as this with any amount of surprise, when you're surrounded by whacked out countries that are completed off their rocker ((we're looking at you, Prussia)) you get used to it. However, it was odd for this to happen at two in the effing morning. Groaning, he rolled out of bed and to the floor with a tremendous crash.
'Maybe I should have stayed on that diet.' He thought as he dragged himself to his feet, stumbling out of the room and down his stairs to the front door. The shouting continued, and it was giving him an awful headache. He was still too groggy to tell who was at the door, but they were annoying him.
"Hold your horses and SHUT UP! I'm coming!" He yelled, hurling himself down the last few steps and colliding with the door, which rattled dangerously. Gripping the door handle, he threw open the door to glare at who dared to wake him up at this ungodly hour.
Stand in front of him was a very pissed looking France holding what seemed to be an immensely drunk England. The pair reeked of alcohol and it didn't help that Prussia and Spain were behind the two, cheering France on as he held the pms-y Brit at bay. England had a handful of Frances hair and was attempting to tear it out, and France was practically weeping for him to stop. Noticing that the door had opened, France quickly threw the cynical British man at America, causing them to both fall backwards and into the house.
"He's practically your boyfriend, you deal with him! Sacrebleu!" The Frenchy yelled, evidently exhausted from the struggle with the other, and drunk. He slammed the door shut and ran off for another round of drinks, swiftly joined by Spain and Prussia.
America was left in a very awkward position with a Brit that reeked of some sort of alcohol on top of him. Recognizing it as vodka, he pushed the other off in disgust, automatically reminded of the commie bastard and just how badly he would like to nuke him, would the government allow it.
Said commie bastard, many miles away, sat up in surprise. China, who was sleeping with him ((no not in that way you perverts)), looked at him questioningly.
"What's wrong, aru?" He asked. Russia just blinked and twitched slightly.
"My America senses are tingling…capitalist pig…" The ex-Soviet leader hissed; purple eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. China just rolled his brown eyes in exasperation and pulled on Russia's scarf, causing him to fall back down on the bed. A simple kiss on the Russian's cheek quickly escalated, and the rest of the night was well planned for…let's just say perhaps you aren't as perverted as I previously stated.
Anyway, said capitalist pig was now trying to calm a very, very intoxicated England.
"I feel like I *hic* know you…ah, what*hic*ever…I'm the grape juice vamp*hic*ire, by the *hic* way…" America just shook his head in wonder and exasperation. He didn't think this would be so hard, until the island nation leaped to his feet and grabbed him, holding his hands behind his back and pressing his face and stomach against a wall with his shoulder. America realized just how damn strong England was when he was drunk, and how he was formerly the most powerful empire in the world.
"You're mine until you *hic* get me some *hic* grape juice…oh, and by the way, I can take *hic* blood too." He whispered in the other's ear, sending shivers down his spine. God England was terrifying when he was drunk. Half the reason he wanted independence, right there. That brought back painful memories, and he spaced for a second, lost in them. England got impatient with the time it was taking for America to respond, and bit down on his neck.
Had it been any other part of his neck, he would have yelped with pain, but that one particular section…America let out a heated moan, much to the surprise of the Englishman behind him, who smirked and bit there again. America pushed the other off him in a heartbeat.
"I'LL GET YOU SOME FREAKING GRAPE JUICE." America yelled, tearing off towards the kitchen with the Brit stumbling after him. Five minutes and various items on the floor later, the America found the grape juice and poured it hastily into a plastic cup, not trusting the drunken man, who was currently having an argument with his refection and losing, with a glass. Seriously, how do you even lose an argument with yourself? Spilling half of it over the counter, he shoved the cup into the other male's hand, who had just slapped the mirror in irritation. England downed the whole thing in one go.
"My life is complete!" He yelled triumphantly with the stupidest of grins on his face, arms raised up to the ceiling, and his head tipped back in victory. Then he keeled over backwards, utterly unconscious. America just blinked.
It was going to be a very interesting morning tomorrow.
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