A/N: Written for LJ's USUK Secret Santa for baterina_1234. The original prompt was for "food kisses" and I hope this is what they meant. So enjoy and Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year. :)
Sweet Kisses.
England was the king of patience whether it came to paper work or figuring out difficult problems. He would endure failure after failure as long as it meant succeeding in the future. However determined he was to continue this streak of extreme patience, there was absolutely no way to ignore the fact that it ran short due to his wonderful Achilles' heel. That ever blonde and boisterous heel: America.
The younger nation always found a way to grate on the Englishman's nerves by pushing his buttons in just the right ways. When he agreed to meet with America at his home for dinner, he suspected that he would just have to put up with the peppy man's stories of ridiculous heroics that were so exaggerated, they'd make an old fisherman roll their eyes. What he didn't expect was to see that America seemed to disregard any and all table manners that may have been drilled into his head ever since a young age.
"Alfred, really, chew with your mouth closed. No one wishes to see the contents of that black hole." The green-eyed man rubbed his temple while picking small pieces off the cake in front of him with his fork also trying to ignore the oaf next to him.
"But I was telling you the really awesome story of when me and Mattie-"
"Speak to me after you swallow, it's not a difficult concept!" Washing down the remainder of the cake in his mouth with his too-sweet tea, a more irritated sigh came from the smaller man. "By your actions, you would assume that I had never taught you anything as a child." The entire dinner had been spent with England avoiding eye contact just so he didn't feel the need to expel everything he had just eaten and America didn't seem to take the hint. Even at desert, America continued to shovel cake into his mouth (England figured as much as he could possible fit) before saying something incomprehensible and swallowing. Slamming his fork down, England could take no more. "Alfred, I'm warning you that if you continue to do that, I'm leaving."
"Oh calm down Arthur, you're too uptight. You keep that up and you're gonna die of old age by tomorrow!" The other grinned while finishing off his piece of cake and grabbing another off the plate in front of them. Deciding to not bring up fact that it would take more than old age to kill him, the elder merely huffed and crossed his arms.
"I'm not old and shut your mouth."
"Make me." Was the American's response with a smile that was frosted over in the cake's icing. England felt his blood boil.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me, I said: Make me!" Hearing his words one more time, England stood up and began walking towards the front door. The younger cocked an eyebrow and watched his movements. "W-Where're you going!"
"I told you I was leaving. Goodbye." Grabbing his over coat, the former empire flung the front door open and slammed it behind him, leaving the younger blinking in confusion. Blue eyes stared at the door as his lips dropped from his obnoxious smile to a straight line just in time for the door to fly back open. In the frame was a smirking Englishman as the other still stared on in confusion. "I got your mouth shut, didn't I?" As if in protest, America opened his mouth trying to make a coherent sentence but gave up.
"T-That wasn't fair!"
"What about it wasn't fair? Your challenge was for me to make you shut your mouth and I did." Sauntering back over to the dinner table with his coat still on, England sat with his right leg crossed over his left. The taller actually had nothing to counter and sat back in his chair, poking at his new piece of cake.
"That wasn't what I meant."
"Well, how else could you have possibly meant it?" It was now England's turn to cock a copious eyebrow. America was quiet for a moment, allowing the other's mind to wander a bit from the dinner table. The only other way to make him close his mouth would be by force; England's hand over his mouth couldn't be something the younger nation wanted. Unless it was something else over his mouth he wanted, like…
Oh.
The smirk renewed on England's lips as he gazed over at America where a slight blush tinged his cheeks that was completely hidden from the eyes unless you knew to look for it. "Alfred…"
"Wow, this cake is awesome, why didn't you finish yours?"
"Alfred, don't change the subject. Now what did you mean?" Resting his chin on his own intertwined fingers, the Englishman kept up his creepy smirk.
"Never mind, I didn't mean anything!"
"You obviously did!"
"Did not!"
"Tch, you're such a child." The English nation sighed while breaking a decent sized piece of cake off with his fork and raising it to his lips, America watching his movements closely. "Would you like more cake?" He asked in an over the top seductive tone while placing the chunk of cake between his lips. Mustering up the sexiest gaze he could, England looked directly into the sky blues in front of him. A moment of silence commenced until the other burst out into hysterical laughter. Taking the cake between his lips and throwing it against the plate in front of him, the elder pouted. "What the hell is so funny?"
"YOU THOUGHT I WANTED TO KISS YOU?" America spat out in between his hysterics. England felt the heat rise in his cheeks and looked away. "I WAS GOING TO ASK YOU IF I COULD HAVE THE REST OF YOUR CAKE."
"S-Shut up, you were hinting at kissing me!"
"NO I WASN'T!" Removing his glasses to wipe away the tears that had collected in the corner of his eyes, England felt the same urge build up for himself. Refusing to let his tears of embarrassment flow, he sat with his pout in place while the larger man calmed himself down. "Aw, come on Iggy, it's funny!"
"Don't call me Iggy." He spat.
"Artie."
"Arthur."
"Okay, okay, Arthur," putting special emphasis on his name. "How come you were so eager to kiss me then, huh?" The brat came up with a good point, damn him. England had been thinking about America a lot recently… England actually wished for the younger's company a lot in recent years, thinking rather embarrassing thoughts that he would never admit out loud to anyone, especially when those thoughts were directed at the admittedly handsome blonde man in front of him. Come to think of it, exactly how long had he been thinking about America this way, anyway?
"I… Don't know."
"…You can't not know, dude."
"I can so not know because I don't not know and now you have me speaking in bloody double negatives!" Resisting those tears was becoming rather difficult as England's breathing became more labored in his attempts. America stopped his barrage of being himself and looked at him for a second.
"Arthur I'm just busting on ya, relax." The younger saw the other was not about to look at him and looked down to his freshly cut cake. "Hey Iggy?"
"I thought I told you to not-" Turning his head to yell at the moron sitting near him, England found his words muffled by a large piece of cake smashed against his lips by America's own. His eyes went wide, releasing the few tears that did manage to collect and stared at the man in front of him. America felt something was off and pulled back with a more noticeable blush while swallowing the cake that was in his mouth.
"…What's up now?" He asked almost too innocently, almost as if he hadn't just mashed his lips together with the other.
"You… You," Taking a deep breath and regaining his nerves, England shook his head and picked up the smaller piece of cake from before. "That was too much cake." He took the piece and moved forward with it, gently pressing his icing covered lips against America's with the cake in place. There was an awkward moment when either of them couldn't decide who was to move first, but America soon took the lead and moved his lips and the cake over England's. America let his tongue past his lips and out to England's, licking away some of the frosting while waiting for the other to copy his movements. Once the elder's mouth was open, his arms entangled around America's neck while he explored every space he could find in his mouth. Each movement sent a sensation of sweetness across his tongue that was balanced only by the taste of America himself; England felt a small moan in the back of his throat that was let loose once younger nation pulled away.
"A-Alfred," America reached up to wipe the remaining icing away from the jade eyed man's lips as England very cautiously licked it off of his fingers causing the other to smile slightly. Burying his face in America's neck in a hug, England tried to form words. "I-I…"
"Shh, we got half a cake left," America said in his ear sending chills down his spine. "And I'm still pretty hungry…"
"Alfred, why is it that you can always find the one thing to say that completely shatters everything?"
"Practice, I guess."
I do not own any of the characters portrayed.