Hi all! I hope you enjoy reading! Major pairing will be America/England (USUK)
Warning: bodily harm
Ring Ring
He woke up unexpectedly, short of breath and filled with terror.
"Arthur!" The name escaped his lips before he had time to think. The object of his dream kept flashing before his tired eyes. Blood and death played on his mind.
The incident had been years ago, but it still haunted him. War was never bloodless. Alfred knew that better than most. He'd seen men, women, and children defiled, raped, and murdered. These things were not uncommon in war and everyone of the nations had seen it.
He reached for the phone and his heart pounded loudly in his ears. Tears formed, and his tongue felt like lead. Surely Arthur would answer his phone… right? Just to assure Alfred that he was OK, to assure him that he was alive and awake.
It rang loudly. Once, twice, thrice before a sleepy voice answered the phone. He hung up as soon as he heard him on the other end. Just that crackly little 'hello' was enough for America. Breathing hard but significantly calmer he fell back down and into an uneasy and fitful sleep.
XOXOXOX
Arthur rolled over lazily and stared at his phone, checking the caller ID. Alfred: this would make the third time this week that he'd called in the middle of the night and promptly hung up on him. Arthur wasn't sure if he was miffed; after all, Alfred wouldn't just call to be an annoyance. Would he? There had to be a logical explanation. He was annoyed that he had lost sleep but towards Alfred he mostly felt unease. Arthur ran a hand down his face and slipped out of bed and into his slippers. He was already awake anyway.
Now, Arthur wasn't Great Briton for nothing. He knew when someone wasn't just being obnoxious in the middle of the night. He didn't have a plan, but he knew that he needed to confront the problem head on, lest he never have a good night's sleep ever again.
It was hardly worth it to brew up a large pot of tea, so he shoved a tea bag into a large travel mug, a flashy thing from America, and filled it to the brim with hot water. He eyed the honey on the counter and then decided against it. He grabbed a banana that was covered in bruises and scarfed it down.
He pulled his brown hat and coat on and walked out into the cold November air. The airport wasn't far, and England felt more awake than expected. Without taking anything but his tea, cellphone and wallet with him, he pulled out of his driveway and started the short journey to the airport.
The roads were clear of any traffic except the one police car that patrolled the area. He hoped to buy a plane ticket when he got there. Thoughts bubbles in his head, bringing forth scenarios and reasons why America would be calling him so late at night and then hanging up without a word.
Parking his car was easy since there weren't many people at the airport. Getting his ticket was more of a hassle since most planes flew in no less than 6 hours and they wouldn't allow him to make a run for the one leaving in 5 minutes.
Slouching in the uncomfortable chairs he opened a magazine and finished his tea. He soon grew bored and began pacing the hallway. People had started to fill up the waiting area as the hours ticked by. He felt himself dozing off when it was his turn to board. With a huff and frustrated sigh he followed the crowd onto the large jet.
He ended up seated beside a polite young gentleman who held a squirming baby. It would have been pleasant enough had the baby not stated to scream 20 minutes into the flight. The man was incredibly apologetic and even offered to purchase earplugs for the people sitting around him. England tutted and bought his own, thankful the man was polite.
Arthur found himself exiting the plane with a pounding headache and droopy eyes. Sleep had evaded him on this flight. He hailed a cab after assuring that he had his wallet and empty mug.
The driver chattered wildly, probably in some attempt to keep him awake as they drove towards where America lived. He frowned when they pulled into the driveway and he noticed the blinds to the house were all closed. It was early evening and America hated the dark when alone- especially after a scary movie or any talk of ghosts. Arthur paid the cab driver and walked towards the door. He froze and shifted from foot to foot before ringing the doorbell. He waited.
And waited.
The corners of his lips fell into a scowl and rapped harshly on the door. Without an answer he huffed. "He can't possibly still be asleep," England tried the door handle and it jiggled but didn't give: locked out with no one answering.
His tired mind didn't even think that America might be out and could have forgotten to open the blinds that morning in a typical American fashion. He just wanted to sit down.
Sneaking around the side of the house he spotted a window open on the second floor. He quickly glanced around the yard for something that could function as a ladder but to no avail. Sadly, there was no way Arthur, a dignified gentleman, would attempt to scale the house.
Arthur flung himself onto one of the patio chairs by the back door and passed out quietly and in defeat, unwilling to put any more effort in.
XOXOXOX
It had turned dark once more before Arthur was awoken by the rain. He scrunched up his face in distaste and stretched. He felt stiff, soggy and gross. His hair was beginning to cling to his face and he could feel it in his socks already. He cursed the American and pounded on the back door.
"Open up!" He shouted. "What gives you the right to call me in the middle of the night?"
The door creaked open an inch and Arthur could see one frightened blue eye. Alfred looked at Arthur's scowling face and promptly slammed the door in his face. The click of the lock was heard, and Arthur's angry face turned into one of shock.
He kicked the door hard ignoring the pain in his toe as a result. "Fine! Next time I'll just stay home!" Not quit caring if Alfred understood what he was saying, he turned on his heel to leave.
The door opened once more but much quicker this time and Arthur was all but dragged inside by the back of his shirt. The house smelled like cinnamon and coffee and the air was uncomfortably warm.
"England?" America hesitantly asked. It was even darker in the hallway. Arthur jerked away from him and trudged over to the curtains nearest to them. He tore them open just for the satisfaction of knowing they were open. "It's dark out y'know," America mumbled, his eyebrow raised and eyes wide.
"Well, if you're not going to have them open during the day then they might as well be open at night!" He snapped back at him. America shrugged and flopped onto his couch facing towards England with his eyes trained on the television and resuming a violent looking game.
"So, what's up?" He asked casually and blasted a few enemies with three heads.
"Don't 'what's up' me!" England threw a stray pillow at him and narrowly avoided knocking over a dead house plant. "I deserve and explanation!"
"Candy corn was invented sometime in the 1880s by George Ren—" America recited from memory.
"What the bloody hell are you on about?" England cut in and stood in front of the American, effectively blocking off his view of the screen.
"An explanation. You didn't tell me 'bout what so I'm giving you one 'bout candy corn." He shrugged and shifted to see around England. Said man just continued to look at him in disapproval.
"You can't be that daft, can you?" England exclaimed, "I'd like an explanation for the phone calls!"
"What phone calls?" He laughed nervously and glanced at England, who now had his hands on his hips and his lips pursed.
"You know bloody well what phone calls and I'd like to know before I decide to castrate you." To America he sounded deadly serious and with England's record it was likely something he had done before. America shifted uncomfortably. Finally putting the game on pause, he faced England and puffed his cheeks.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, jerk." He paused before continuing. "Perhaps Francy-pants called you. I know you pretend not to like each other but-"
This made England sputter and whack the other in the back of the head. "I barely tolerate the frog," he crossed his arms in growing frustration, "and I have caller ID!"
"Oh." This made him look at his knees like a child who'd been scolded. "April fools?" He offered weakly.
"I think not," England stated firmly.
"Welp, I've got some cleaning to do!" He made a mad scramble and dashed off the couch for the stairs narrowly avoiding England's shocked reach.
"What the hell is 'welp'?" England demanded and gave chase, his frustration increasing.
"Ahahahahaha! A hero never tells!" At least he didn't seem any different. England began to wonder if he'd just been over reacting in his extended moment of fatigue.
"Slow down you big oaf!" England grasped the back of America's obviously dirty night shirt and held on. He was dragged up a few more stairs before America came to a sudden stop and turned his head.
"I don't want to talk about it," it was very unlike America to not want to talk. At least, from England's point of view.
"Then why did you call me!" England shouted back at him.
"That's under the 'I don't want to talk about it' category," America retaliated using air quotes.
"Fine. Since there isn't any reason for me to be here..." He turned to leave.
"W...wait! You can't just leave! It's too early, sun ain't out yet!" He reached and grasped England's arm before he could fully turn away, "you haven't eaten! You need a shower!" America rattled on, pulling excuses out of his ass. "Don't leave," America's inner panic built.
"You say I need a shower? Have you looked at yourself? Or better yet smelt!" England wrinkled his nose in disgust but didn't remove America's hand from his shoulder.
"Hey! I showered!" His grip tightened on England.
"When? Last week?" England muttered, and America pouted. "Go on. I'll make us breakfast..." At that America smiled brightly and released his hold on England.
"No!" America responded out of habit. England raised an eyebrow. "I mean... You're the guest! Yah! So, I have to cook us a totally awesome breakfast!" America squeezed past England, nearly causing them both to fall and dashed back down the stairs.
He rolled his eyes but felt better now that America seemed to be acting more like himself. A shower did sound rather inviting at the moment especially since he was still in damp clothing. He shivered lightly.
He just didn't expect to enter a bathroom that looked as though it hasn't been cleaned in weeks. Mildew and mold clung to most surfaces besides the sink, which looked well used. "At least," though England, "he brushes his teeth."
And so, England set to work, ignoring his urge to stalk back down the stairs to yell at America.
XOXOXOX
"I'm bloody fucking England and I just love terrorizing America! Pish posh tally ho! Gotta check what the phone calls are! Once! I call him once and he goes bananas! Pfft." America wasn't in the best of moods as he fried bacon and eggs. He didn't recall calling England more than once and even if he did, he wouldn't admit to it. Secretly, he was pleased that England was at his house. It wasn't often that he showed up uninvited.
He flipped the bacon and winced as some fat jumped out of the pan and onto his hand. No matter how many times he made it, it always seemed to make him jump.
"England dude! Food's ready!" America yelled. He hadn't heard the shower, so he had no idea where England was or what he was doing. For a moment he wondered if he'd actually left. He heart began to thump.
However, England didn't disappoint. He showed up with a dirty rag that'd been used on the toilet and threw it.
"Wha-" It landed right in the American's mouth. "Mffg!" America pulled it out and looked at it, sputtering indignantly.
"That was used on the toilet. Now it's used for your mouth. About equally dirty I would say." England smirked and strode over.
America eyes went wide as the moon and he dropped the rag in horror. He was only frozen for a minute before he was flushing his mouth out with water.
"This should help with the taste." England gently handed him something round that America took without hesitation and shoved into his mouth. He chews quickly, paused and then coughed like a smoker.
"Soap!" He croaked out utterly betrayed, looked like a rabid dog.
"Yes America. Great job. You've identified it correctly." England took a plate and gathered some food. America just glared and trudged upstairs to brush his teeth.
XOXOXOX
It was a somewhat pleasant surprise, which America pointedly ignored, when he saw that his bathroom had been scrubbed. Instead he grabbed an electric blue toothbrush and some kiddie toothpaste and began brushing his teeth roughly. His anger dissipated with ever brush stroke before his shoulders dropped and he knew he needed to apologize to England if he wanted the other off his back.
He took a shower only to procrastinate and to think. England was downstairs eating and probably cleaning again, something America reluctantly appreciated. America hadn't even eaten yet; it had been forgotten in the moment.
After his shower he felt like he was cleaner than he'd ever been before. He felt ten pounds lighter after scrubbing all the grime off his body. He quickly wrapped himself in a superman towel and charged downstairs, his stomach reminding him to eat.
"Did you kill it?" America demanded. England had his back to him and was clearly washing the dishes.
"What are you talking about?" England asked lowly.
"Mr. Bacon! You didn't throw him out, did you?!" England scowled at the suds in the sink, leave it to America to personify bacon. What was it with Americans and bacon?
"No America. If you would open your eyes for more than two seconds, you would see that the bacon and eggs are on the table where you left them." He unplugged the sink and dried his hands.
"Thanks dude." America grabbed the rest of the food and plonked down in his seat to scarf it down.
When England turned around he was greeted by the sight of a half-naked, and very damp America. It wasn't at all an attractive sight. He had egg and bacon grease all over his face. None the less England found himself turning away quickly. His face and ears flushed a god-awful shade of red and he scrunched his nose as though he were about to sneeze, but he couldn't will away his embarrassment.
Instead, he busied himself by scrubbing the counter and then its sides. It didn't take as much time as he'd hoped because America had yet to leave. So, he returned to scrubbing the counter.
"You already cleaned that." America pointed out in an attempt to be helpful.
England gripped the cloth tighter and tried to ignore the blood pounding in his head.
"I missed a spot," he ground out.
"Looks fine to me." In a moment America was right behind him looking over his shoulder. England jumped slightly and gave a small squeak that was classified under 'things England does that could be considered cute' by America. Luckily, he made no comment on it.
"I don't think you're a good judge of cleanliness." England swatted him away.
"Lies!" He placed a hand on his chest in betrayal and fake hurt.
"Bathroom," England stated simply. "I can get the rag again, if you'd like."
"Alright I give," America chuckled holding his hands up in surrender. "Clean to your little heart's content," he ruffled England's hair and struck his hero pose, "but I'll help!"
"No," England stated firmly and pushed past. "I'm done anyways. Now go put some clothes on! What if someone came knocking?"
"I'd answer. Obviously. For a smart guy you're not that smart, are you?" America tilted his head with a shit eating grin, feigning ignorance.
"Bloody Americans…" England murmured.
"What'd you say, hmm?"
"You can't just go around in a towel all day!" England stated quite scandalised. America just looked comfortable from where he stood.
"So, I'll take it off to open the door then," America dead panned. For a moment England was afraid he was serious, but America followed up his dramatic pause with a loud laugh.
"Clothes now," England still refused to look him in the eye.
"Only if you dress me!" America countered in a teasing voice. He loved the way England's face flushed once again. England then excused himself and went to tend to the garden, leaving America with his superman towel.
Thank you for reading! Please shoot me a constructive review! I would love to know how to further improve!