All you need is faith, trust, and little bit of pixie dust.
Summary: One shot. America was confused. He, of course, loves England. He loved England and he always will. But…what kind of love? He was no longer a colony of England. He was an independent nation; a nation who has the most influence in 21st century. Then, what is this butterfly feeling that he has? When did he stop looking at England as a caretaker or big brother? Since when did he start to see England as…someone he desires to have? And there's no way England would love him back, right? UKUS, and little bit of Franada. Human names are also used.
Author's note: Sorry, I am late, America! Happy Belated Birthday!...Actually, I just want to write happy fluffy story to make me happy….*is literally depressed because there are so much things to do* (and shoot…..I have to upload my Canada for HIS birthday, and here I am…I am such a good citizen…) AND THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO SUBSCRIBED ME. I'M STILL NOT WORTHY THOUGH *insert sparkling sobbing face here* I WILL TRY MY BEST TO UPDATE IN FANFIC…..AND UPLOAD MY CHAPTER 3, WRITING AND DRAWING ARE DIFFERENT ARTS…..-wrote the story on paper but has no time at all to type it on computer…./goes to emo corner- AND I WANT REVIEWS. PLEASE. WRITE REVIEWS. I ONLY WRITE TO READ THE AWESOME (almost as awesome as Prussia) READERS' REVIEWS! 'KAY? * A * P.S. I MADE ALFRED VVEERRRYYYY EMOTIONAL…..IM SORRY TO PEOPLE WHO LOVE AMERICA BEING AWESOME AND STUFF BUT DON'T WORRY HE STILL IS AWESOME…IT'S JUST THAT HE BECAME LITTLE BIT MORE MATURE XD THIS IS OFFICALLY UKUS DECLARATION, READERS. SEE THE SUMMARY OVER THERE? YEAH :D
America was in his wooden cottage, pouring a cup of coffee from the coffee maker. He usually stays at his home, apartment complex, in Washington. He usually doesn't come to his cottage in California, the sunny lovely (yes, he himself says that it's lovely) part of his land unless he is taking a vacation. He wasn't taking a vacation; he had a freaking world meeting tomorrow. Then why was he here? He needed a calm place to think. America. To think. Doesn't match him so much, huh? Anyways, his mind was becoming very…complicated these days. After celebrating his twin brother's birthday with other nations yesterday, his uneasiness got even worse. He had so much questions and assumptions in his head, roaming around and causing chaos.
He shook his head and looked out of the window. It was raining. In California. It was raining. He was in Los Angeles; it barely rains in Los Angeles in freaking July. He widened his eyes in disbelief. Well, it does rain in Northern California but not in Southern California! He croaked his eyebrows and walked towards the window sill with his cup of coffee. He placed his free hand on the window, feeling the vibration of water drops as they hit the glass. England. He had a reason to come to California than any other places. Rain always made him sad. Especially when it rained in July. England, he thought again. He slightly shook his head and sat on the window sill, leaning his head to the wall. The cottage was dead silent except for America's unusual small breaths and the rain drops knocking on the windows outside. Then, a drop of water echoed the house inside. Tear drops started to drop more frequently; from his ocean blue eyes to his flawless cheeks and down to his well-shaped chin.
"I don't know what's this feeling anymore, England. I'm scared. I'm afraid. This feeling…it's just so sad…I am desiring something I couldn't possibly possess…I wonder if you can hear me now…I am not an air-headed guy, Arthur…I, I am not a kid anymore…" whispered America with trembles. Even his sunniest part of his land and he himself was raining. What was happening to him these days? Alfred knew the reason but he just couldn't accept it – accepting it would be more torturous than denying it.
In Europe, the European nations were having enjoyable summer time, except for one typical nation with dirty blond hair and big eyebrows. England felt uneasy as soon as he woke up in the morning. Even his dream was abnormal. He has never dreamt about young America since…1776. He made a slight scorn and sat on his comfortable, Victorian sofa, turning the television on to watch the world news. He was leisurely enjoying his morning tea and commenting gruffly on how's the world is becoming these days, until he almost chocked on his tea when a certain 'global emergency news' popped out.
"In the United States of America, there are floods everywhere, at least one in every province." Is this some kind of ill omen? "Citizens from Washington, D.C are evacuating, causing traffic jams "Bloody hell? "Even Southern California is raining." What the hell is going on? "In Alaska, it's snowing and… .gosh, are my eyes working properly? It's raining in – "The broadcast reporter's sentence was cut off by an Englishmen, turning off the television and who was now hurrying towards his front door with worried expression all written over his face. He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket when he got into his piano black car, 2012 Jaguar XJ, at his private parking lot. He growled when he saw the name of the caller but picked it up.
"DON'T CALL ME, YOU BLOODY FROG! I AM GOING TO DRIVE AND I AM GOING TO AMERICA SO MIND YOUR OWN BUSSINESS!" He ended the call without hearing the answer of the caller (which was very non-gentlemen like) and threw the phone quickly to the seat next to him. He needed a plane to catch up and he was not going to let his 'gentlemen-manners', that he always emphasized, getting on his way.
France, who watched the news, was worried sick (very much) about his petit Angleterre not going to visit Amérique. However, when the Englishmen shouted desperately at the end of the phone and rang his ear, France knew he had nothing to worry about. He softly smiled to himself and murmured his trade mark sentence.
"World needs more love."
Canada, who was silently standing beside his 'ex-older brother/father', smiled and his grape violet eyes twinkled with hope.
"I guess Alfred just couldn't bear it anymore…I told him to take a step but he was afraid…Afraid that Arthur might even hate him more," said the Canadian quietly as he rubbed one of his arms.
"Yes" whispered the French with his 'brotherly' smile, "but…hey, you read fairy tale books before, right?"
"Uh, yeah…when I was young."
The French smiled and faced the Canadian. He gently brushed his ex-colony's hair and hugged.
"If you dream a thing more than once, it's sure to come true… Amérique dreamed for this moment for 319 years, Matthew. And God answered it."
"…" The Canadian smiled sweetly and hugged back the other blond country. "Yes, though it's quite amazing that I was able to become as equal as you earlier than him, eh?"
The French smiled and teasingly kissed the Canadian's cheek. He nuzzled his nose on the shorter male's neck and looked up to see the Canadian's beautiful violet eyes.
"Yes, but…you became quite more than equal…Non, mon amour?"
"Bloody Hell…" England murmured as he arrived at Los Angeles World Airports. He came to California since his strange sensation led him to come here but he had no clue where America was. Even though California is just one of the many provinces in America, it was super huge! England sighed and sat down at the blue bench to think. He was in Los Angeles but his private cabin that he bought was in San Francisco – curse his luck. He could've called his servant if he listened to France who suggested him to have one – well, curse his luck again. Then, snap! He remembered his vacation in California with Alfred and Matthew. He had kind of an idea where that stupid git was but he had no car but only with little bit of emergency money – beautiful. He held his nose bridge for a second and decided to call him.
"Ohonhonhon~ what brings you to call me?"
"…Can I borrow your car?"
"….What?"
"Can. I. Borrow. Your. Car." said England with more force. He knew France was either too shocked to say anything or holding his laugh. However, strangely, both of his predictions were wrong.
"I've called my butler to drop-off my Peugeot at the airport. Go fast now, he's waiting."
"…Okay, thank you…Francis."
"Il n'y a pas de quoi, Angleterre. Run now! Fast!"
For the first time of his long life, England actually listened to his annoying 'so-called-French-brother-and-enemy' – he ran to find France's Peugeot.
How long has he been crying? America didn't know. His tears won't stop. He listened to the radio about his, America's, nature disasters but he couldn't help it. He heard limitless amount of his I phone vibrating against the marble kitchen table but he had no energy to stand up from his couch and he didn't want to answer it anyway. He felt his citizens fleeing to other countries, all leaving him behind. Then, he sensed someone, a country, stepping on to his land, Los Angeles, where he was. He held his breath; he didn't know whether he should be happy or not. He just cried all over again – England came to America.
Rain was pouring even harder as he went to the east side of the Los Angeles. The gloomy weather reminded him of the last day of Revolutionary War. The English scowled even more furiously when he founded out that the date was July 2nd. Great timing, he thought sarcastically. After the long drive, England was able to see a vague image of a cottage through non-stop-pouring rain. As he came in to the front yard, he saw America's bright red sports car. England had remarked America that it was too funky and bright but under such depressing weather, the car looked like it had just lost its shine. England – Arthur Kirkland, who never ever rushes – promptly came out of the car and banged the front door of the cottage with his fist. No answer. He banged again. No answer. The heavy rain throb his shoulders and tingled the muscles. Still, there were no answers. He knew America was awake – he was damn pretty sure. England, frustrated and anxious, lifted one of his legs and kicked the door hard. With a thump, the door just flew open. Well, he thought, good thing that I only broke the lock and not the door itself. England marched inside and slammed the door shut. He looked around until he saw a red-eyed American with tears, looking at him with astonishment and shock. England smirked and ran his hand through his wet messy hair.
"What? Forgot about my pirate days, child?"
America really, really didn't expected England to be here with wet blue Y-shirt, black jeans and red converse. Wait, what? England with jeans and converse? America rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing any illusions and he saw England again after the insane rubbing. An uncomfortable silence continued as no one spoke. Alfred slowly stood up from his couch and tried to walk but ended up getting hold by the Englishman.
"Slowly, love. Do not push yourself hard. You had a hard day, sweet heart."
America flushed violently as England placed him back to the couch. England said such…horny words to him! He glanced at the former great empire and stammered.
"W, what brings you to Los Angeles? I'm okay if you came just to visit me…So, you can – "
A sudden smell of tea and rain stopped his words. England's clothes were cold but the heat from his skin was warming the thin blue Y-shirt and he was able to hear England's heart pumping so clearly. America looked up and saw a concerned Englishman.
"Of course you are not okay. Tell me, what's wrong, sweet heart?"
"N-Nothing's wrong..! Really, nothing at all! So – "
"Alfred F. Jones, you are going to tell me what is troubling you and I have the authority to hear it."
Alfred gulped. England's firm green eyes were piercing through his dark ocean blue eyes with determination. He sighed and clutched a cushion. He glanced at England one more time and faced his head towards the old-fashioned fire place.
"You're not going to kill me, strangle me, beat me, slap me, or stomp out of the cottage after hearing this, okay?"
"I give my word, Alfred."
"…I…There's this person that I loved when I was young."
Arthur raised an eyebrow in dismay but continued to be silent. If his 'ex-younger brother' was having troubles because of a certain girl and caused the entire world with uproar, then he really needed to see and lecture her.
"I still love this person…and I am sure I am going to love hi – them as long as I live."
"That's very lovely of you, Alfred."
The American made a small sad smile to the older nation and continued his story with a tired sigh.
"But then…they didn't know that I loved them. I really loved them. I wanted to be equal as them. As someone they can rely and count on. Someone who can help them…But…I guess…They were too overprotective. They didn't like it. I thought …I thought the feeling 'love' I felt was…a family love. I mean, I was still pretty young and they took care of me since I was like…SUPER young! So, I…I…I...declared independence…"
That struck Arthur right to his head and heart.
"Alfred, what – how…?"
"I quickly wanted to become someone who they can rely on so I chose the fastest way possible. But…it didn't work out well. We became enemies for seven straight years. Then, at last, after all those treacherous seven years, I fully understood my feelings towards them….I loved them as a lover. But, I just couldn't accept it because I didn't want to ruin my friendship with them that I worked so hard on! I tried to deny it for 229 years!
The American started to stammer and rush his words, unable to look at the older nation beside him.
"But it just won't work! If it rains, I would always think, 'I wonder if it's raining in their place too.' When I smell fresh tea leaves, it always reminds me of their comfortable scent. And then….when it's July…I, I would always try not to cry. All those guilt and regrets would flood me on July 4th. Sympathetic, isn't? I've known them since 1607 and started to love them in 1700s…..Ah- 319 years had passed since I didn't cry…I know that this sounds stupid but…Don't you think accepting a fact is a little bit too cruel?
A hot tear drop gently rolled down to America's cheek from his stung eyes. Arthur's mouth was opened wide like a draw-bridge. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His heart pumped faster as he recalled his memories of other nations telling him about America. He thought they were lying. He thought there was no way America would love him. He thought he was the only one who loved him.
England brushed the tear out of America's baby skin cheek and kissed the place where the tear stain was. America froze and looked at England.
"What..? You are not…freaking out..?"
England smiled affectionately and ruffled his ex-colony's smooth blond hair. With a teasing voice, he whispered to the younger nation's ear.
"No, actually, I am quite angry that you didn't tell me sooner…You made me to get out of my house when I was enjoying my morning tea, made me listen to that frog bastard and get soaked in cold rain. Now, how are you going to take responsible for these?"
England's breath tickled the younger nation's ear and made his face as red as a tomato. America opened his mouth to reply but he couldn't think of anything. With the corner of his eyes, he could see England smirking and his forest green eyes were half-closed, giving the American a chill at the back of his spine. England looked like his pirate days; his expression and tone of his voice captivating others. The younger nation quickly looked around and noticed an old fairy tale book on top of the book shelves beside the fire place. Before anything bad happens, America quickly babbled the quote he randomly remembered.
"Um, with faith, trust, and… little bit of pixie dust?"
England chuckled and nuzzled his nose to the American's sensitive neck. He slightly kissed it and looked at America's beautiful blue eyes and red-dyed cheeks.
"No, sweet heart. Apparently, Peter Pan is too busy."
England's seductive appearance and his calming voice made Alfred's heart to flutter. He quickly examined and analyzed the situation he got into and thought quietly. I am… What was the thing that Japan called? Oh yeah, uke? Damn…This is totally unfair….
"You are thinking that it's unfair about you being the bottom, don't you?"
"…Do you have a mind-reading power, Arthur? How did you-?"
Arthur chuckled softly and kissed the younger nation's forehead.
"If I had one, I would've been the one to confess first. I love you too, my dear poppet."
America, being the young nation and losing his patience, promptly lied down at the couch and took out his glasses, Texas, and glared at the nation on top of him, revealing his handsome feature.
"Fine, be that way! You are still not kissing my lips!"
England was stunned. He thought America would jump off and say he's a hero so he wouldn't be at the bottom and stuff but…wow, that was least expected. Arthur laughed enchantingly and lowered his face to see the blushing young American.
"No, of course not, my dear princesses, why would I forget about your beautiful rose colored lips?"
America flushed furiously at the word 'princess' and he opened his mouth to argue about him being 'prince' instead of girly 'princess' but was covered instantly with soft lips and a wet warm tongue. America widened his eyes as he felt Arthur's hand brushing the back of his head and Arthur's other free hand circling his chest. The young American let the English's tongue to play around in his mouth. Gradually, he understood what his 'ex-older brother' wanted when the American got a small bite at his lower lips and made a small moan, causing the English to smile triumphantly. Then, England parted apart from America to let them breath after the long kiss.
"I am very amused about our progress in just one day, love."
"Waiting for 319 years was not fun, Prince Arthur", teased the American as he rolled his eyes and made his usual smirk smile.
With a slight smirk and a nip at the American's neck, – making a red mark and causing Alfred to moan a little – he whispered to his ex-colony's ear.
"My south is getting cold by the rain, dear. May I go in?"
Alfred raised one of his eyebrows and wrapped his arms around Arthur's neck. Maybe…Letting Arthur to take the top part is….okay. He made a goofy smile and kissed the Britain's cheek. Then, Alfred whispered back to the Arthur's ear, making a good British accent which he still has.
"You are more than welcome to, Mr. Gentlemen."
By then, the news was taking about how sunny America became after all those deadly pouring rain.
YEYYYYY! ONE SHOT FINISHED AT LAST! *insert crying face here* ANYWAY, HAPPY INDEPENDECE DAY AND YES, I USED TWO QUOTES FROM DISNEY…..
The one France said is from the Sleeping Beauty and the one Alfred said is from Peter Pan. Thank you for reading, AND DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW~ 3
I did research for few facts to write of course…and I LEARNT A WHOLE LOT OF AMERICAN STATES. GOSH. Anyway, if I did something wrong, please comment or send me a PM. I will try to change it right away. Until then, please bear with me ;w;
Vocabs that you might want to know cuz its in freaking, cool, seductive French
petit Angleterre: little England
Amérique: America
mon amour: my love
Il n'y a pas de quoi, Angleterre : Your welcome (kind of), England
p.s. Sleeping Beauty was from French writer and Peter Pan was from English writer…it was really a lucky coincidence, eh? XD