(Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters at all. I also only own a computer game version of Risk.)
It had been a long, hard struggle but he had finally done it. England had finally managed to (re)conquer the North American continent. Pleased with himself, he sat back in his seat, momentarily forgetting about how thin his troops were spread. An amused laugh reached his ears, and he sat straighter, confused about the cocky grin he saw on his opponent.
"You just couldn't resist, could you?" His enemy said, and though England knew he was trying to sound intimidating, the younger man failed when he let out a happy chuckle instead of an 'I'm about to kick your ass' "Ha." Never-the-less, England looked at the table in front of them, his lack of troops finally clicking in his mind. In his blind desperation to claim what he could no longer have, his men had been stretched thin, too thin. Damn it. I'm not strong enough. But there's just no way in hell I'm going to lose him again, not after trying so hard.
Unfortunately, luck was on his opponent's, America's his mind traitorously reminded him, side. England threw his dice with more force than was really necessary, but the younger man kept winning, and before England knew it, the North American continent was once again no longer his. Letting out a frustrated sigh, England was determined not to look America in the eye, but a shout of triumph piqued his curiosity and he looked up at America who was sitting with a stupid grin on his face.
"That's game, old man. Once again, the hero has prevailed! What is this? Five games to zero? What happened to that imperialistic attitude of yours?" England glared at America and was about to argue that no, he still had Great Britain and Western Europe (ha, take that you wine bastard!), but when he looked at the board again, he found that his forces had been completely wiped out when he wasn't paying attention, and Europe, including his country, was now America's.
"Bloody hell," England muttered, having long since tuned out America's "I'm a winner and a hero" speech. "When did he manage to do that? Sneaky git." Sighing, he pushed away from the table, annoyed to see that America was still going on. "America." No response. "America." Ignored again.
Grumbling still, England stood up and walked over to where America was sitting. The younger man still hadn't noticed he'd moved. Quickly, England leaned down and kissed the top of America's head, shutting him up instantly. "Eng—" He was cut off when England smacked him upside the head.
Smirking at the resulting yelp, England leaned in to whisper in his once colony's ear. "America, shut the bloody hell up about winning. This is why no one likes to play games with you," He said quietly, his smirk growing at the flush that was slowly marking America's face.
Pulling away with a chuckle, England glanced at his watch before walking to retrieve his coat from his chair. "I've had enough of Risk and it's getting late. I'm going home, America," He said while pulling on his coat. As he started to walk away, he felt a tug on his arm, causing him to stop and turn around at the still-red American latched onto his arm.
"Don't go, Iggy. Come on, we can play another game and-and you can choose! And when I kick your ass, I promise not to brag. Please, stay." England opened his mouth to decline, ready to insist that his boss really needed him, but something about the puppy dog eyes that America was giving him made him give a resigned sigh.
"I guess there's time for another game," He said slowly, tugging his arm out of America's grasp so as to remove his coat. And, when he saw America's sunny grin, England couldn't help but give him a small smile in return. Bloody git. Every time I try to get away, he always manages to bring me back.