sorry I couldn't have put these things in sooner, guys! ugh, drama, is fucking terrible! the world of Hetalia may seem like a mess, but its heaven compared to what I'm dealing with with my Italy cosplayer. anyways, enjoy this. I hope you do!
warnings: Hetalia, end of story. lol!
disclaimer: if Hetalia was mine, Mexico would be in it. and Italy and Romano wouldn't be like they are, they'd be badass. And America would be a gangster. but Hidekaz Himaruya owns it, sadly. *cries in corner*
America stumbled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Or, rather, lack of. He hadn't gotten much sleep because he was so excited about his birthday tomorrow. Tomorrow trickled into today as he stayed up past midnight. At the most, America only got five hours of sleep.
The smell of coffee and tea hit his nose then. That probably meant England had come along with Canada. For a moment, America frowned. England always cried on America's birthday, because of their Revolutionary War.
Then something registered in his mind. "COFFEEEEE!" He tore down the stairs, tripping over something useless at the foot of the stairs, and skidded into the kitchen.
Canada laughed, setting down America's coffee. America drank it fairly fast and asked for another cup. "So how has your birthday been so far?" He asked.
"I got no sleep," America replied between a gulp of his coffee. He expected to be smacked for his grammar, but then he noticed England hadn't said a word. "Iggy?"
England raised his head so his forest-green eyes were visible. They were watery and red. America got up and pulled England into a hug. Canada frowned, but America silently shook his head.
"Hey, England, why are you crying?" America asked softly.
"One day…" England buried his face into America's shirt. "One day you'll leave me again!"
America sat down, the smaller blonde curling up against him. Canada inched into the other room to give them privacy. "England, Love, I'll never leave you again," America told him.
"H-how do you know? O-one day y-you could st-stop loving m-me!" England replied. America laughed at the thought. He caught England's eyes on him and instantly frowned.
"Oh, you were serious about that."
"It d-doesn't even h-have to be a c-country. It could b-be a human! When F-France and I were i-in love-," America growled at the mention of the Frenchman together with his England, "h-he cheated o-on me with Joan of Arc," England looked up at America. America nodded, remembering. "I-I just lo-lost my temper and I-she didn't even d-deserve it!" England buried his face into America's big chest.
America was stunned into silence. America with someone from his country? The president or one of the national heroes or possibly one of his celebrities? None were as good as England. "I don't think that will happen, England," America explained. "And today is my birthday so you have to be happy for me, because I'm a hero and heroes don't have sad people on their birthday!"
"It doesn't work like that, you git," England sniffled, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand.
"Of course it does, Iggy!" America declared, picking up the Brit and twirling him. England squealed, holding on to America for dear life. Canada came back into the room, laughing.
"Looks like your happy again, eh? Want some more tea?" Canada asked. America set England down. The older blonde swayed a bit, regaining his balance.
"Yes please," He replied, shooting America a playful glare and sitting down.
"Okay, okay, okay! So I-ACHOO!" America fell out of his chair with the force of his sneeze.
"Still sick?" Canada smirked. America glared at him.
"Hur hur, very funny," He retorted. Canada set down England's tea, picking up his own coffee. "O.M.G., Canada, make me pancakes!" America cried, sitting down in his seat again. England poked America's arm.
"Use your words, you aren't typing with your portable telephone," England explained.
"Cell! Phone!" America and Canada corrected in unison. Canada reached over and gave America knuckles.
"Whatever."
"I'll make those pancakes, then," Canada sighed. America smiled happily.
"…ACHOO! Damn it!"
Mexico and Belarus were a bit late to the party. America didn't really care, slugging his younger brother in the arm. Mexico held his arm and frowned. "Achoo!" Mexico sneezed.
"You too?" America exclaimed.
"Not as bad as you, Cabrón," Mexico replied. He sniffled again. "It's that damn oil spill," He glared at the ground. America nodded.
"So, your with Belarus…" America glanced at Belarus. She smiled sweetly, turning her gaze over to Russia for a moment before returning her eyes to Mexico.
"We both know how it is to be in love with someone we look up to dearly and see them with someone else," She replied. Mexico quickly averted his gaze from America. "We stayed with each other until the hurt was gone and, well…" Belarus rested her head on Mexico's arm.
"Really? Well congrats, Dude! Who was the one you loved before?" America asked. Mexico deadpanned.
"Well, he's an idiot," Mexico commented. America thought.
"Do I know him?" He asked. Mexico and Belarus just walked away.
"Alright, let's play a game!" America shouted. Some of the nations immediately escaped outside. Romano, Spain, Italy, Germany, Mexico, Belarus, Russia, China, Switzerland, France, Greece, Turkey, Japan, Korea, England, and Canada stayed.
"What game, aru?" China asked. Russia smiled creepily at him. He scooted away.
"Glad you asked! I say we play Truth or Dare!" America explained. There was silence. "You can't say no because it's my birthday," America added.
"Alright, you twat, go get a bottle," England huffed. Prussia finished his beer.
"Use this," He set it in the middle. "You go first, birthday brat!" America spun it. With his monstrous strength, it jumped up and pegged Romano in the face.
"OW!" Romano shouted.
"Truth or Dare?" America smiled. Romano rubbed his face.
"Tr…da…tr…dare," Romano stuttered.
"I dare you to give Spain a lap-dance!" America burst out into evil laughter. Spain and Romano both went red. Romano got to his feet and dragged Spain away.
"You are quite the evil bastard, eh?" Canada smirked, high-fiving his brother. Mexico reached over and did the same. Canada spun the bottle, and it landed on France.
"Oh? Hit me with your best shot, Canada," France chuckled.
"Oh, it is fucking ON like maple syrup on my pancakes, BITCH!" Canada cackled. Prussia smiled at his little mouse being competitive. It was…kind of a turn-on. Prussia shifted a bit. "I dare you to-"
"Truth," France interrupted.
"Damn it." Canada thought for a moment. "Have you ever made out with someone and wished they were someone else? If so, who and who did you wish they were?" Canada challenged.
France paled. "W-well, when I made out with Angleterre, I wished he was Suisse. And…once when I was making out with Spain-"
"WHAT? I'LL KILL YOU, FUCKING BASTARD!" Romano shouted, apparently Spain and he had finished their dare. Romano started running forward but winced in pain and instead limped to his spot on the floor. Spain sat down next to him.
"That was a long time ago, Romano. But then, I wished he were Suisse. And then once with Greece-"
"What?" Turkey got to his feet. Greece pulled him back into his seat.
"-I wished he was Suisse," France finished. Switzerland's cheeks were stained red.
"Okay, my awesomeness will go next!" Prussia declared, spinning the bottle. It landed in between Japan and Germany. "Haha, now it's both of your turns!"
"Dare," Japan said immediately.
"Truth," Germany replied, not trusting any dare his older brother came up with.
"Japan, any time you have to sit down you have to sit down in Korea's lap," Prussia started. "Starting now."
"I suppose I have to…" Japan sighed, getting to his feet and sitting down in Korea's lap. Korea silently thanked the Prussian.
"And Germany…do you love Ita-chan?" Prussia quizzed. (A/N: very original, aren't I?)
"What kind of question is that?" Germany shouted. Italy looked up at Germany.
"Ve? Do you?" He asked softly. Spain smothered Romano before the older Italian could ruin the moment. Germany went silent. Italy frowned. "Do you? Say it, Doitsu, if you do," Italy pleaded.
"I-I can't," Germany sighed. Italy's eyes filled with tears, and he scrambled to his feet and ran away. Romano pulled away from Spain, storming over and pulled Germany to his knees by his shirt.
"You follow Fratello, and you tell him how you really feel. I hate you, but I'd rather see you with Italy than have you break his heart," Romano snarled. He practically threw Germany back. The German quickly stood and ran off.
"Italy!"
America frowned. Spain spun the bottle. It turned and landed on England. Spain looked up at the Brit. "Hmph!" England turned up his nose.
"Come on, Iggy~!" America whined. England opened one green eye at America.
"Truth," He huffed.
"Did you ever have sex with America when he was a teenager?" Spain challenged. Romano choked on air and limped away.
England's jaw went slack. America ran a hand through his hair. "By teenager, what do you mean?" England asked meekly.
"Twenty-one or younger," Spain replied, though that technically wasn't teenaged years anymore. He just wanted England to suffer.
"Y-yes. He had just turned twenty-one and so I took him out to a nearby pub, and we both got smashed…" England trailed off.
"Best time of my life. Shame I didn't remember," America added. England fainted. "Jeez, we're dropping like flies!" America cried, resting England's head in his lap. For a moment, he thought about feeling England up while said nation was unconscious. Then he dismissed the thought; heroes didn't do that. France would, though.
Russia spun the bottle next. It stopped on Mexico. "Vho vas t'e nation you loved before my sister?" Russia inquired.
"I-I didn't say truth or dare! And I pick dare!" Mexico retorted.
"Ladno, t'en I dare you to tell us vho you loved before Belarus," Russia rephrased. Mexico facepalmed.
"America," He muttered. America blinked. China cleared his throat and spun the bottle, ignoring the stares he got for sitting on Ivan's lap. It landed on Greece.
"Dare," Greece sighed. China put a finger to his lip in mock thought.
"Russia, will you help me, aru?" China asked. Russia smirked, knowing the Chinese man was going to do that.
"Yao-Yao dares you to make out vit' Turkey," Russia explained. Before Turkey could say anything, Greece had pulled him closer and started to kiss him silly. Sealand accidentally walked in, screamed, and ran back outside.
"You have some drool right here," Greece smirked, licking Turkey's bottom lip. Turkey put his hands over his nose.
"Tissues!" He begged them. Greece sat down in triumph as Turkey ran off, bleeding to death from his nose. France spun the bottle. It landed on Spain.
"You know what my choice is," Spain smirked.
"I dare you to finger Romano's curl," France replied. Spain sighed, and when Romano returned from the kitchen, he was pulled away. Poor Italian didn't even know about the dare.
Switzerland reached forward and spun the bottle. It landed on Japan and Korea. "Then it's both?" He asked.
"OH YES!" Everyone snickered, glancing down the hall where Spain and Romano were having curl-sex...one-sided curl-sex, but still!
"That answers your question," England smirked. Switzerland grinned.
"Truth!" Japan blurted out.
"Dare~!" Korea sung.
"Have you ever had sex with anyone besides Greece?" Switzerland asked. Greece coughed. Japan's eyes went wide.
"Me, da-ze~!" Korea chimed. Japan blushed.
"And Korea, I dare you to strip Japan," Switzerland added. Korea's cheeks heated up. He pulled off Japan's shirt easily and started working on his pants.
"H-hey!" Japan cried, trying to hold his pants up. Korea still pulled them off without any trouble, getting as far as Japan's boxers before he stopped. Korea stared at him for a moment, then started to drag him away.
"I'll take this and go, thanks," He mumbled. Japan held out his free hand for China.
"Save me!" He begged. China was too busy trying to bury his face into Russia's coat so he wouldn't see anything.
Belarus spun the bottle. It landed on America. "DARE!" America declared. Belarus did her creepy smirk, sending Russia running out of the room.
"I dare you to make out with…" She looked over at where Russia had ran away. "Get back over here, Brat!" She called. Russia came back, trembling. "-Russia."
"NO WAY!" America shouted. England put a hand on his knee.
"Just do it. I won't be angry," He sighed.
"Okay…" America crawled through the circle to Russia, locking their lips together. Russia pulled America closer, and the two started a fierce make-out session.
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" England shouted. America quickly pulled away.
"You said you wouldn't be angry!" he protested. England puffed out his cheeks and looked away.
"The fireworks are starting soon," Norway poked his head into the house. Iceland peeked out from in Norway's jacket (the one Norway was wearing…)
America dashed outside, coming back in and picking up England bridal style and running back out with the squealing Brit.
Japan limped out into the room. Korea kissed his cheek. Iceland blushed, and Norway blinked. Germany came out, holding Italy like a baby. The Italian was asleep. "Fireworks are starting soon," He explained again.
Japan walked outside. "Remember your dare," Prussia smirked. The irritated Asian came back and dragged his South Korean human chair away with him. Korea gave Prussia the thumbs up sign.
The nations all laid down on the grass or curled up with or on their lovers and pointed out the firework pictures.
"That one looks like a fish!"
"That one looks like a heart!"
"That one looks like pasta!"
"Whoa, that one was like a knight!"
"I saw Mickey Mouse!"
"I think that was an alien!"
"I think that was pasta!"
"Hey, that one looks like a mermaid!"
"Look, Su-san! That one kinda looks like Hanatamago!"
"That one looks kinda like a dinosaur!"
"That one looks kinda like pasta!"
"That one looks like a maple leaf!"
"Wow, I see a star!"
"I see pasta!"
"Look, Mousie! A mouse!"
"T'at looks like vodka, da?"
"Doesn't that look like PASTA?"
"ITALY!"
America felt like he was going to pass out after their third game. He didn't know what they were going to play next, but he wouldn't play with them. No sleep + mass amounts of caffeine = horrible crash. America slumped onto the table.
While our favorite American had dozed off, the party had taken a bad turn. "Drinking contest!" Prussia cheered.
"You're fucking on," Romano smirked. Prussia handed him a shot glass filled with beer. After twelve shots, Romano collapsed. Spain took him home. Germany and Poland both collapsed after fifteen shots. It went on and, surprisingly, Latvia was the winner, with England as a close second.
England stumbled into the chair next to America's. "Merca," He whined. All the other nations had gone home or stayed over for the night at America's. "Merca, I wanna go home~!" England protested.
"Uhn…go away, Iggy," America muttered. England glared at him.
"Fine. I'll jus' drive mrslf home!" He cried, staggering to the door. America rubbed his eye. He heard the engine of England's car start.
"Holy shit! England!" America raced outside, pulling the car back. England stopped the car angrily. The younger blonde moved to the driver's side, then moved to the European driver's side and pulled England out of the car.
"NO! LET ME GO!" England shouted, thrashing around. America threw him over his shoulder and went back inside. He went to his own room, throwing England down onto the bed.
"I'll be sleeping downstairs," America mumbled. England grabbed his arm.
"No! Please, I'll be good!" England begged. America pulled his arm away from the Brit. "I want you to sleep with me," England whimpered.
"Stop being a child, England, you're older than me," America sighed. He opened up the bedroom door.
"You-you said you'd never leave me again…" America froze in place. He turned slowly to see England wiping away his tears. "I love you, Alfred," England sniffled.
America shut the door and crossed the room quicker than he thought possible, hugging England tightly. "You're a big baby, Iggy," America chuckled.
"It's the alcohol," England replied bitterly. Silence followed. England looked up at America and noticed his American had fallen asleep almost instantly. England gently let America fall onto the bed, snuggling up to him.
"Love you too, Arthur…" England's eyes widened. He sat up, but the American had been talking in his sleep. England kissed him softly.
"Call me by my name more often," England smiled softly. He cuddled up to the younger blonde and slowly drifted into sleep.
lando means 'okay' in Russian. 'brat' is Belarusian for 'brother' yep yep yep!