Enjoy some USUK! Uh, yeah. I couldn't think of a better title. I'm sorry if the info about that world cup that happened—in Brazil, I think—is wrong. I don't watch soccer, or futbol, at all. I just happened to watch this game at my aunt's house.
"Hello, America-san," Japan greeted, stopping a usual bow mid-bend and forcing himself to wave his hand back and forth instead, looking awkward.
"Yo, Japan! Glad to see that you're learning Western customs!" America beamed and opened the door wider, gesturing to Japan to enter his modest house.
Japan nodded gratefully at his politeness and stepped inside, black suitcase in tow. His brown eyes looked around the entryway, spotting a hardwood staircase next to him as his black shoes rested on the thick, pale blue carpeted floor. There seemed to be what looked like a kitchen a few yards away from him, further down the hallway.
"In here!" America had stopped just to the left of Japan, looking into his living room.
Japan compiled and stepped into the room. Two couches lay in the room, one black—this one had a rather blinding blanket covering it—and one red. Japan's black shoes were sinking into the pale blue carpeted floor, and he pulled them up to stop them. About—Japan quickly counted them—three abstract paintings were hanging on the black walls, a mess of confusing colors. A television lay against the wall on the far side in front of him, displaying a soccer game.
"It's Greece vs Costa Rica! I'm rooting for Greece, but England's cheering for Costa Rica," America explained, getting comfortable on a red couch near the TV.
England-san? Is he here?
"I've never been one for soccer, you see. Baseball is a lot more interesting, but I keep tabs on the major sports anyway." America continued, Japan only half-listening as he scanned the room again before his eyes were drawn to a body.
"Eh? Japan? Why are you here?" England lifted his head up, pushing back the neon blue blanket slightly as the black couch he was lying on squeaked.
"I am traveling to America to visit him and to explore this culture," Japan answered. "Why are you here, if I may ask?"
"He's sick with another cold—yes, I learned what it is—again," America answered before the weary nation could talk and turned his head to look at England. "Trust me, his immune system sucks, so I offered to take care of him."
"More like forced! I can take care of myself, so it's not like I need you here!" England huffed, ending the sentence with a cough while America laughed.
"Yeah, but, deep down, you enjoy spending time with me. Very deep down."
"Um, America-san! I have heard that a cold is infectious and easy to spread. Are you worried that you will catch the illness?" Japan asked.
"Nah, I don't get sick very often. And England is usually fun to hang out with. Sometimes," America quickly added.
"Oh." Japan looked down at the floor, wiping away a smile that had come to his face. He was honestly a huge yaoi fanboy, and he loved to . . . "ship", as the Internet called it, various countries. His favorite ship that he'd always wished would happen was actually the two men in front of him. Like any hardcore shipper, he'd scavenged the Internet for the ship of America and England, or "USUK". He'd found things that made him laugh, fanboy, cry, and nosebleed. He stifled a laugh, remembering the time that he'd had to clean blood out from his keyboard. That had occurred during his isolation, so no one had seen, luckily.
The only other people that knew that he secretly had an obsession to yaoi were Hungary and Liechtenstein, who also enjoyed the idea. Sometimes, they even played matchmaker. Some relationships that actually really worked out and became a couple were Germany and Italy, Spain and Romano, and Sweden and Finland. Most of the others had failed, but some now seemed attracted to each other. An example of this was Denmark and Norway, who constantly blushed when they had their moments with each other. That actually was almost exactly what America and England did when they had their moments—
A shout from America ripped Japan out of his thoughts.
"They have to do the penalty shots 'cause they're tied!" America announced excitedly. "This is the best part!"
"These goalies are reading their movements all wrong, and everyone's getting a goa—Costa Rica's winning!" England sat up, the room forgetting about his cold.
"What? But they've never won!"
"Maybe all of that's going to change today!"
"If that goalie stops that ball, Costa Rica's gonna win," America announced, feeling tension crackling in the air as the man dressed in blue on the screen sweated with a very nervous expression.
Japan was watching with a bemused expression. These two would really be great together!
"Costa Rica won!" England cheered, his cough dissipating for that moment.
"What? No way! That goalie should have missed like all the others!" America laughed at England's expression. "I haven't seen you that happy since . . . a long time ago!"
England immediately cooled his expression. "Yeah. Well. . . ."
Japan looked over at his suitcase while a plan formed in his mind. "America-san! England-san!" He called to their attention.
"Yeah, what's up?" Blue and green eyes turned to brown.
"Maybe you should play a game and see who should have won," Japan slyly suggested.
"I'm always up for games!" America's blue eyes sparkled in excitement.
"What is it? Rock, paper, scissors? Twister?" England wondered, a threat of another cough burning in this throat.
"Actually, it is a popular game from my country. You may have heard of it." Japan pulled out a red box and opened it, showing the contents to the two nations in front of him.
"Oh~ Chocolate!" America noticed that the cracker-like sticks had dark brown chocolate covering most of it.
"What is this?" England asked, curious. He'd never heard of the brand before, but he recalled hearing Hungary and Japan talking about it at the World Meeting. Now, what was it call—
"It is called Pocky," Japan answered before England could remember.
"Okay? What kind of game is this?" England raised an eyebrow.
"Maybe it's an eating contest! I would so win that!" America chimed happily.
"No, no. Pocky Game is it's name, and I will tell you how to play. Basically"—Japan picked out one of the sticks and held the non-chocolate end to his mouth—"you get two people and bite down on each side." Japan put the end in his mouth and bit down softly, pretending that he had a partner. "You continue biting down together until you reach the middle. The last person who pulls away is the loser."
America nodded while England flushed slightly. "Wait, won't that mean that we'll eventually . . . kiss?" England asked, blushing at the thought.
Japan bit his lip and calmed his inner fanboy. "Hai, but do you not want to see who is the rightful winner?"
"I do! And it's just one kiss, man. Well worth the chocolate!" America smiled, a barely visible blush dusting his features.
"Okay. . . ," England almost reluctantly agreed, grabbing another stick.
America took the part that was covered in chocolate, and England had his lips wrapped around the other side.
"Ready?" Japan inquired, struggling to not fidget.
"Sure!" America began to bite the stick, liking the taste in his mouth, while England mirrored him. "It's pretty good!" His voice was muffled by the snack.
Both participants started to flush as they neared each other, remembering exactly what they were supposed to do. I can't believe that I get to kiss my crush! America smiled a little at the thought.
Suddenly, their burning faces were all too close to each other. America made another bite, and their lips were touching. Both stopped and stared into each other's eyes for a bit, almost wondering what to do next and forgetting the point of the game. Should I push back or pull away?
"Mpfh!" England whined slightly, feeling America's tongue run against his bottom lip.
Meanwhile, Japan was busy holding his nose, hoping to the Yaoi Gods that he wouldn't get a nosebleed.
England, unsure of what to do, opened up his mouth slightly, starting to enjoy himself. America winked at England, causing shivers. His tongue entered England's mouth and did the most unexpected thing—the muscle swooped inside of the blond's mouth to grab a small piece of the Pocky, pulling away with the part in his mouth.
"Hah!" He winked again. "I won," he teased England, his blush having calmed down to a slight pink despite what he had just done.
"Ew, that was revolting! Why would you do that?" England's face was alight, and he tried to glare at his former colony. He finally released the cough he'd been holding in on his sleeve, and America took a step back.
"You seemed like you enjoyed it~!" England flushed further at America's truth-holding words. "Even though I'll probably catch your cold now. That was a fun game, Ja. . . ," he trailed off at the sight before him. "Pan?"
The man was on his back in front of the two, blood coating the floor from his nosebleed.
"Look what you made him do, you pervert!" England yelled at America.
"I'm the pervert? I wasn't the one who opened his mouth!" America shot back.
Japan raised a hand weakly. "That was a great game, guys." He couldn't help but wish that he'd thought to take out his camera.
Ew, America! It feels nice to publish something after not writing for a while.