This was a one shot that came to me and slightly based off of research I did. I will go more into it after the story. I hope you enjoy it. Review please!
England didn't know why he bothered. Maybe it was his love for tea, feeling sad about leaving the EU, feeling a little lonely or just felt like a bit of company at the moment. Whatever the reason, England decided to host a Potluck Tea Party. He wasn't the most social country of the bunch. In fact, he was probably one of the least sociable ones, along with Iceland, Norway and Japan. There were countries like America, who would invite everyone to a Brunch Festival he made up off the top of his head, while those like England would not invite anyone, aside from his mutual family, to any party he hosts. He supposed it was a personality difference.
Of course, everyone was happy to come, at least the ones that were invited. England was particular of whom he invited. He wasn't going to invite some complete stranger or some strange country he hardly met. When it came to parties, England only invited those he knew personally, including France. It annoyed England, but it was rather that or France would crash his party anyways in the most flamboyant manner like crash through the window naked. Hey, he wasn't shy about stripping naked at the Olympics and England wasn't going to place bets on whether or not France would do it. The frog could dig his way under the English Channel from London to Paris if he wanted and had, thus the Underground connecting from London to Paris.
England was proud of his tea and biscuits. He didn't just bake scones, especially since only America ate those. He baked other things and it wasn't that he was a horrid cook. He can cook, but... only simple stuff that didn't include using the stove, since he couldn't work with those. He had a harder time back in the days when stoves were run by coal and firewood. It was so easy to burn America's food, it wasn't funny. Now, technology had changed and England found it more convenient to use the oven, thus why he was better at baking, especially deserts. It wouldn't make any sense for England to be a pro at making tea and not cook. Wasn't the basics of making tea cooking? It's like being a pro at Geometry and not Math. Then again, there were those that were horrid at everything else at Math, but could pass Geometry with flying colors. England was a pro at brewing tea, beer and whiskey, could also bake pastries, but anything like stir-frying, cooking on a skillet or cooking on a pan of any kind was something England was doomed for failure. He still remembered how angry he made China for trying to fry fish in his stir fry pan. He still remembered the painful hit on the head from China's wok.
Speaking of China, he was one of the first countries to arrive, along with the other Asian countries like Japan and South Korea. They always came early and made the best teas. Much of England's inspiration to make tea was from China. They also had beautiful tea pots and dishes they used for tea. Japan brought some green tea, while South Korea and China brought some pastries from their country, setting them on the serving table.
"Ah, welcome, China. I didn't know you liked Banana Rolls," England commented, noticing the pastries China brought in.
"They're fine. I wanted to bring something else to balance the sugary junk you westerners add to your tea, but Hong Kong insisted on these," China replied bluntly.
"Well, they look quite delicious, if I do say so myself."
"I brought Tteok!" South Korea shouted randomly.
Taiwan eventually came with Hong Kong. Since Hong Kong helped China with the Banana Rolls and Taiwan helped Japan with the tea, they didn't bring anything. It was quiet with the Asians, much to England's satisfaction. Then, there came the East European countries, starting with Russia. Surprisingly, he knew how to make tea and made very tasty, yet bitter tea. The enjoyment of having a cup of tea was probably the only thing Russia and England had in common. Though, that might as well count the rest of Eastern Europe too, they all knew how to brew their own tea like they did vodka or whatever strong concoction they pulled out of their asses. England still remembered the one time he drank Romania's tunica during Christmas. At least if he was going to make a fool out of himself before waking up to the worst hangover of a lifetime, it would be at his magic partner's house and thankfully not around Moldova, who was surprisingly allowed to drink that stuff around Romania with adult supervision. Sometimes, Romania was almost as mad as Denmark and Prussia put together, if they got drunk on Christmas eve, while riding Finland's sled up Mount Everest.
Speaking of Romania and Moldova, they also came with their own brand of tea. England could tell it was freshly brewed by scratch with leaves plucked from the garden. Sometimes, Romania impressed England by his brewing skills. It reminded England why he hired the madman as his Magic Business Partner. What? Did you think Romania was just his Magic Club partner? HA! England is literally the only European country that would run a business collaboration with Romania.
After the East European countries came, a mix of the rest of Europe and England's former colonies arrived. That was when things started getting loud and crazy, not counting the mad Romanian that was already acting like he lost his marbles half the time.
"America, what the bloody hell is that atrocity!?" England yelled at America, who brought a jug full of brewed iced tea with sliced lemons floating at the top.
"Dude, have you ever heard of Southern Sun Tea?" America asked with his million dollar grin.
"What?"
"Sun tea! You fill a jug full of water, put the tea bags in and lay it in the sun all morning."
"I know what Sun Tea is and you're ruining perfectly good-"
"You want me to comment about how you ruined my perfectly good tea?" China commented from the back.
"T-That's different!" England commented with his cheeks blushing red.
"Or should I comment about the other things you took and ruined like Belgum's French Fries, driving on the left side of the road or walking in with your muddy shoes inside your own house? I can go all day with this or you can shut your stupid, yapping mouth with your god damn opium!" China shout.
"Oooooo, he got you there," America laughed as England side.
"Whatever. Place your monstrosity with the others, I suppose."
"You should try it. I really worked hard on it to make it just right."
England felt that peg of guilt as a small sigh left him. He knew America started making sun tea when he traveled West and had no ovens or pitchers nearby in the hot, desert sun. He finally said, "I suppose a taste wouldn't hurt. Thank you for bringing some. Tell Texas I said 'hi.'"
America smiled brightly as England walked over at the table and gazed at the different kinds of tea, pastries and snacks to go with the tea. Everything was separated by tea, snacks and deserts. It brought a smile to England's lips and everyone each got a different kind of tea, sometimes trying three to four different kinds. Though, there was suddenly a sound that brought everyone's attention. It was America, of course, but it seemed as though he was spitting out something nasty.
"Oh god, what is this!? I mean I'm not a big fan of tea, but this taste like watered down coke, man!" America said.
"I told ya that didn't look very good," Hong Kong mumbled emotionlessly.
"Oh please, I'm sure it's not that bad," England commented, looking at the tea America was talking about.
There was a fancy tea pot in fancy designs that America took a drink from. England decided to pour himself a decent amount into his cup and try a sip. He didn't know who brought it, but it seemed like they worked very hard on it. Certainly, it couldn't taste that bad. Boy, was he wrong. As soon as he took a sip, he thickly swallowed it. It tasted... hallow. Whoever made this tea didn't perk it long enough and tried to add too many strong flavors. England used all his strength to not give a look, then gazed towards America.
"S-See, not bad at all. You're just overreacting. If you don't like it, you can try other kinds or your own tea. Honestly, you can be such a child, America," England said as America chuckled.
"Let's just hope it's not yours," America teased.
"Is that an insult or are you asking me to hit you over the head?"
America laughed in response as Hong Kong huffed, rolling his eyes. Nobody tried the mysterious too-watered-down-with-strong-flavors-tasting tea and anyone who did were disgusted by it. It was awful to say the least. England couldn't help, but feel sorry for the poor bloke, who made it. Certainly, he must've worked incredibly hard on that tea, only to find disappointment.
Speaking of disappointment, England noticed something was missing from the party. He gazed at the crowd and mentally role called. There were the Asians, Russia, all of Eastern Europe, Italy giggling happily with Germany, Prussia griping about how beer is so much better and all his former and current colonies. There didn't seem to be anyone missing.
"'ey mate! Lookin' for someone?" Australia asked, giving England a hard-but-friendly slap across the back.
"A-Australia, calm yourself. I just... I don't know, I feel like we're missing something or someone," England admitted.
"I hope it's not my sheep," New Zealand muttered worriedly.
"I'm sure they're fine. I opened the gates for them, so they can have fresh air," Australia grinned.
"WHAT!? You can't do that, you idiot!" New Zealand shouted as Australia looked confused and England sighed sadly. Who could be missing that's got him feeling so wound up.
"Hey, not to sound unawesome, but has anyone seen France?" Prussia asked everyone as they all froze.
England's eyes widened. Yes, France always came to England's parties. If he wasn't invited, he'd crash the party. So far, England hasn't heard anything from him. Surely, he would arrive at a party, even a potluck. These were his favorites. He would bring something over-the-top with the best spices, ingredients and whatever that French bastard could pull out. Yet, there wasn't a hint of his existence anywhere, not even about any dishes he brought. It was as if he was... quiet, invisible the entire time. Strange, because it was always Canada that was invisible.
"I saw him earlier. He said he was bringing some tea with him. I hope he's alright. What if something bad happened to him?" Italy panicked.
"Italy, I'm sure he's fine. He's just probably in the bathroom somewhere," Germany said, though even he seemed to know it wasn't like France to show up, then disappear. "Though, I wonder what tea he brought. Doesn't everyone talk about it?"
"That's what I'm saying! Everyone knows France is here when his food and dishes are talked about! I haven't heard a word from anyone!" Prussia cried as everyone began muttering.
"Fine, I'll go find the bloody frog and get his arse over here. I'm sure he's fine and is just finding some sort of way to exploit himself like the flamboyant frog he is," England assured, being he was the host and wanted to calm everyone.
England went out to search the house, hearing everyone beginning to calm down in relief. France didn't seem to be anywhere in the house or his room, thank goodness. Then, England snuck out the back door to search outside. He saw the door to the shed cracked open. He always left it closed. England glared, not liking the idea of a frog breaking into his shed and touching his gardening tools, possibly for a prank of some sort. Just as he marched toward the shed, he heard something that caught him off guard... Was France... crying?
England slowly opened the shed door, not being able to hide the noise, since it was a shed door made of metal. The light shone through, showing a sobbing France by himself in the darkness of the shed.
"Good lord, you're scaring my guests with you sneaking off like that," England said critically, staring at France, who just looked up in embarrassment.
"M-My apologies. Th-This isn't what it looks like," France said, trying to cover up himself as England sighed, then gave him some tissue paper.
"Whatever. Say what you want. If you want to speak, speak, but if not, at least come inside and let everyone know you're alright."
"M-Merci," France muttered, wiping his tears before blowing his nose. He stared at the corner of the floor, feeling embarrassed.
"That was your tea, wasn't it?" England asked, catching France off guard.
"Wha?"
"The tea everyone says tastes god awful. That was yours, wasn't it?"
France looked down in shame as England nodded, then sighed. He said, "It's... really not that bad... I mean... you don't have to be good at everything. It's... It's okay to be not... to not be good at brewing tea. It really is. Don't worry about what those blokes say. Just bring some fancy French pastry next time and pretend you forgot your tea for today."
"You're not laughing at me?"
"Why would I? You're good at everything else that I couldn't be even more awful at. I might as well be looking at a god damn bloody mirror. Besides, what's the point? Your bloody sobbing is already ruining everyone else's fun. It's my job to make sure they have a good time and without you, I doubt anyone would have any fun, so don't take it the wrong way. I'm not doing this for you," England stated, then began leaving, leaving a very stunned France, who was thinking a bit. "Well, aren't you coming or not?"
"Ah, coming!" France cheerfully sang as England snorted, then rolled his eyes. Then, before being warned, he was stopped by France, then given a kiss on each cheek. "Merci. Perhaps you're not always so cold. I... I promise I will make it up to you, if you promise not to tell anyone who made that tea."
"If you promise to not kiss me ever again, I will consider it. "
"No promises," France winked, then scurried back into the house, leaving England behind to roll his eyes.
England didn't know why he said that. Perhaps it was because a part of him did care about that blasted frog or maybe it was because he could relate to how he felt inside that shed. It would be embarrassing for France to find out that of all you could be awful at, as far as cooking, was something as simple as making tea. Surly, that would be embarrassing for France and knock his pride down by a lot. The England from the Thousand Year War and Seven Year War would've given anything to see France in that miserable state. Though, England had been by France's side through too many countless wars. Sometimes, it was worth doing something good for those you despise.
A/N: While tea drinking did start in France before England, they're not known for making good tea or coffee. They're not as strict about it and would often be considered weak. While they are starting to learn how to make proper tea in Paris, France, it's like expecting good food in the UK. Not to say the UK doesn't make good food, but their food is standard. Actual tea and coffee from France is standard. So yes, while it isn't canon, it would make sense for France to be a horrible tea maker, even coffee maker.
With that said, my reason for making this story was to create an interesting concept and to bring both England's and France's character into an interesting level. Everyone knows how France is a wonderful cook, while England's cooking sucks, but what if the roles were reversed? What if, cooking/baking wise, France was horrible at something that England was a pro at? How would they both react to it? This was the result.