A/N: I couldn't help it. I had to write something for the World Cup. This is based off of the fact that a lot of Americans started cheering for the English team after they lost (I'm pretty sure, at least.)
Warning: Shonen-ai (at least, as much as there ever is in any of my stories. That means hand holdin', folks.), an American describing a soccer/football game, and no real people mentioned.
...
"Ugh, this looks like it'll be tough," England said to one of his teammates. His teammate shrugged and smiled.
"We can beat them. We can't lose here," he told England, "It looks like someone from the other team is trying to get your attention."
"Oh, he's not on the other team. That's Feliciano, from the Italian team. He's probably cheering Ludwig on," England said offhandedly. Secretly he was jealous that Germany had a friend that was going to cheer for him, seeing as how most of the nations were very competitive and couldn't bear to cheer for another country. England himself hadn't even gone to America's game yesterday, and felt horrible for it. But he wouldn't tell anyone that.
"Arthur, the game's starting. You need to get out on the field," his coach told him, pushing him up onto the field and into the blinding lights. England walked out onto his position, waiting for the game to begin. As the kickoff began, the English team took control of it quickly, but couldn't seem to get it up to the goal and shoot. As the ball was passed to England he heard something in the stands. Not daring to look up yet, he passed to his teammate who was running ahead of him, before looking to the stands.
There in the stands was the hero himself, Alfred F. Jones. He was wearing the American team's jersey, but wrapped around his shoulders like a cape was the English flag. He had his hands cupped around his mouth and was yelling with all his might. Which, considering America, was quite loud.
"Go, Arthur, get the ball! Go!" he was yelling, waving his hands like a maniac. Arthur stopped and stared for a second, before he was jostled by a player from the German team as he ran up the field. Remembering himself, he looked back to the field to get back into his position and ready to take the ball. As he looked up the field, he saw the ball get booted back to his side of the field into the danger zone. One German player ran up to the ball as it landed and only had to beat the goalie. He went into a slide and kicked it in, much to England's dismay. He watched as the German team went crazy over the early goal. Germany ran by him, up to the scoring member of his team to congratulate him. Up in the stands Italy was going crazy, cheering for the German team.
"Booooooo, you can do better than that, England! Stop playing around, show them how awesome you are!" America yelled up in the stands behind England. England turned slightly red, with anger or embarrassment, he couldn't tell. One of England's teammates walked up to him.
"Do you know that guy?" he asked as the German team piled on top of each other in celebration.
"Yes, he's my friend," England said with a quiver in his voice, "That's Alfred Jones, from the American team."
"Well, you better not disappoint him. After all, he has had to deal with his team getting beaten by Ghana," the teammate said before running off to get in position. England looked to the stands where Italy was cheering for Germany. He was determined to bring this match back to equal terms, just as America always did. Well, maybe not always.
As the game started back England was filled with a new vigor, just as much of his team was. But they weren't ready enough to get a goal as they could only pass it back and forth, and if they tried to get a shot then the ball was stolen by Germany. That was when another goal was made by the German team, and England watched as they congratulated each other, and Italy yelled encouraging words at Germany.
"Come on, Arthur! I know you can beat them! You be the hero!" America yelled, and England was touched by America giving England the supposed ability to be the hero, even if it wasn't really an ability you give to someone.
"Your friend really wants you to win, doesn't he?" someone asked as England ran by, and he didn't answer him. England could feel that some of his fans were already giving up, but another part was still dedicated. England started again, thinking of how he could manage to get a goal, when he saw it before it happened, and the ball flew through the air, bouncing off the head of one of his teammates right into the goal. England jumped up in the air, and ran to the scorer to congratulate him.
"That's more like it England, I knew you could bring yourself back into the game! Just keep trying!" America yelled as England watched him jumping up and down in joy. England realized this must remind the America of his match, tying and going into overtime, only to lose in the overtime. That's why America would feel so strongly about the game. This conclusion made more sense to England, but it also made him feel bad that America hadn't wanted England to win because it was England.
At halftime the coach gave them a pep talk that only made England feel bad, and he looked forward to getting out on the field and getting the equalizing goal. As he walked out onto the field, he noticed that America was gone from his seat. He felt disappointed, until he heard his voice again, only closer. The American had managed to get a seat closer in to the field.
As the game started back England was determined to get another goal. He ran up to the goal with the ball, trailing the other team behind him as he went. He kicked the ball and it soared through the air, hitting the top of the goal and bouncing down, inside the line, but not by much. England jumped up in the air with victory, until the goalie punted the ball back down the field and play continued. He noticed the confused looks of his team, and plenty of members of the crowd. 'That had to have been a goal...right?' England thought as he ran back down the field.
"Booooo! That was a goal! Stupid ref, that was so a goal!" America yelled from the stands, to which several people in the crowd joined in. "It's OK, Arthur! Just keep playing! You'll catch up!" England was still annoyed at the goal that hadn't been taken, but he started back, albeit a little slowly. They were managing to keep it- wait, what? Three German player rushed down the field in a breakaway, passing the ball between them.
"Goal!" came the cry from the crowd, and England could barely bring himself to listen to America's yells of frustration at his usually good friend Germany, as well as at England. It seemed like only seconds later that the German team scored yet another goal, and with the time left on the clock, England knew there was no way his team could win. From there on he could only make it look like he could loose honorably.
At the call of time, England felt like storming off the field to go and cry, and maybe have a drink or two. But he kept himself on the field, trying to look like Germany hadn't just crushed his team. Germany walked up to England.
"Good game," Germany said gruffly as he shook England's hand, then looked behind him to where Italy was gaining on him. "If it makes you feel any better, I think you should have gotten that goal," Germany said before Italy glomped him. Italy was all smiles and laughter, promising to take Germany out to his favorite pasta restaurant in celebration. England nodded his head in recognition to Germany before making his way off the field. When he was out of the way of all the spotlights and people, he thought he felt a tear run down his face.
"England!" America said from behind England, and he jumped, trying to quickly wipe away any tears that had formed before the hero could see them.
"America," England turned around, acknowledging his friend. England stood in silence, not sure how to handle the situation. Then England noticed America's smile.
"You did good," America started, but England interrupted.
"Well. It would be, 'you did well'," England said, and then realizing what he'd just said, blushed. America chuckled.
"Well. Anyway, I really thought that ref ripped you with that one goal. You totally deserved that one," America said, and England concentrated on the ground.
"You don't have to try to make me feel better. I know my team got creamed. I did horribly," England said to the ground. America shrugged, though England couldn't see it.
"OK, fine. You did horribly, and Germany crushed you to a pulp," America said, and England cringed, "Is that what you wanted me to say?"
"...No."
"Then let me tell you that you did well, and we'll both feel better," America stated.
"I'm sorry I disappointed you. My game must have made you feel worse about yours, and you wanted to see me win, and I didn't," England babbled, to which America laughed, to which England looked up in surprise.
"Sure it was disappointing, but that was because you deserved the win much more than Germany. You, who was the best in our group, and somehow you managed to end up getting eliminated before you should have," America told England.
"You're just saying that to make me feel better."
"Nope, this time it's the truth."
England was quiet for a moment before America wrapped his arm around England's shoulders.
"And now we can go be losers together," America told England. England looked baffled at America's attitude. "Do you want to go get some food now?" America asked England.
"I-sure," England stuttered, too confused to be embarrassed by America's question, or to tell him to shove off.
"Good," America said, letting go of England's shoulders, to his disappointment, only for America to grab England's hand and have him blush. America pulled him out to the direction of the field, both of them still wearing jerseys and America still in the England cape. As they came out onto the field they were blasted by lights and cameras. Flashes of light and people asking questions of the older nation greeted them, though the stream of questions changed once they saw America in his jersey and holding England's hand. America covered England's mouth with his free hand and turned to the reporters.
"Arthur did very well in the game, and has nothing to be ashamed of. The teams were evenly matched, and the English team kept having bad luck. Now, if you don't mind, the two of us are going to go be losers together," America told the reporters, only to get a barrage of more questions as he pushed through the crowd.
"You know you probably just made this whole thing worse, right?"
"Yep. But that's just what I do."