Disclaimer: I do not own hetalia but I do have England on my Christmas list…
Warning:People, this is a filler chapter so deal with it, can or cannot affect the main story. Might or might not be failure chapter. I was practicing for umm…writing those daring scenes and this came about, but there is no M- scenes in this chapter, just practice. Also forgive any wrong spelling or grammar, I was busy hitting my head against the wall while writing this coz I can't believe I wrote this so there might have been lots of mistakes. May cause extreme dizziness(I know I was) and swearing as usual as well as OOC-ness. And OC's in the form of the Kirkland brothers, my favourite dysfunctional family…
Scotland: Allistor
Wales: Dylan
Northern Ireland: Connor
Now please continue…
These bloody bastards just keep on coming!
Arthur let out a heavy sigh. His head rose above the piles of paperwork he was doing. Dark circles and large eyebags clearly shown on his face. Exasperation etched in his features. England looked at the large pile of paper that was innocently sitting at his study table. He then looked at the other two large piles of 'done' paperwork that lie peacefully at his floor. He let out another heavy sigh.
He looks at the piles of paper that is seemingly mocking him, his right eye slightly twitching as he resists the urge to pull out a bloody flamethrower and burn the annoying pieces of paper to black and fine-grained ash. But of course he'll not do that. It sounded like something Alfred would do, well except he'll not use a something like a wee flamethrower. America would probably launch a missile on the annoying paperwork or something. After all, he always does things with a bang…
Arthur shook his head slightly as he banishes these thoughts away. The sandy-coloured blond snorted. 'I'll not stoop as low as that git or do something as idiotic as that' he thought grudgingly. His gaze turned back to the pile of paperwork on his desk. He had been working on it for days now, getting very little or no sleep at all. He is almost done, that is if you consider that the large pile of paperwork has been lessened to only a few, more like seven centimeters tall, if you would look at it in a positive way. But hell, that is so much better than the almost two feet pile of paperwork England had two days ago.
The Englishman let out another exasperated sigh. Arthur threaded a pale hand through his more than disheveled hair, that due to stress maybe, or just because of too much tea. Does that even happen? He yawned, stretching his hands upward turning to look at the ceiling, eyes closed due to exhaustion. Hell, even if they are countries, they also get tried just like normal people. It's funny how they are like normal people and yet….be so bleeding different. Arthur's lips turned to scowl a bit and then he opened his eyelids revealing his emerald-coloured irises.
He reached his right hand upward, staring at the maple-coloured ceiling. He honestly didn't know how the hell did he manage to get himself buried under these bloody paperwork or how did he missed the papers that were slowly piling in his study, being covered in dust. But one day he did noticed and thus started working on it.
Arthur ruffled his hair, successfully messing it up more. He needed to get these done. There is no running away from the responsibilities of being a nation. Arthur took great pride at being a nation although he thinks being one is quite annoying sometimes. He looked back at the papers on his desk, waiting to be read and accessed. He sighed and rested his head on his right palm. There was a time when being a nation isn't this bloody boring. A time when he experienced the thrill of being able to pillage other nations, being able to see them grovel underneath him and see them beg under his shoes. Although Arthur sometimes lost these battles, the electrifying feeling was still there, but of course winning would be infinitely much better than losing.
England smirked as memories about a certain frog cursing him for beating him during Seven yearswarand a certain Spaniard swearing that he'll avenged his beloved Armada, although he was never able to or will ever get the chance, that is if England had anything to say about it, crossed in his mind. Arthur chuckled lightly, laughter hinted with sadistic amusement. Lots of other nations flashed in his mind, mostly cursing or glaring at him while he was either smirking or laughing sadistically as he looked down at them.
"Haaa, those were the good times" Arthur said dreamily. England still longed for that searing feeling. That burning feeling he gets when crushed battalions and armies, when he blew up and sunken dozens of ships, mostly Spain's and sent them to Davy Jones' locker and most importantly when he discovered lands and treasures and claimed these for his country, for his own. A time when arguments are not discussed in tables for a few hours and then people would wear 'smiles' and shake hands with each other and be all friends as if nothing happened. It disgusted Arthur. Call him cynical but he doesn't buy those discussions one bit. He knew that things like that cannot just be fixed that easily.
He longed for the time that disagreements were solved by duels, for in duels nations would be able to express their opinions more freely. When nations had direct influence over their country. And a time when they didn't have to do so much bloody paperwork….
Arthur scowled. He knew it was wrong to think of returning to the dark days, days of which wars scarred the lands, blood everywhere and people dying in multitudes. He knew his people as well as the people of the world, not that he cares for others except his people, are much more satisfied at this current level of peace, well not really peace. More like order really. England supported peace and order and Arthur himself supported it. Being an old nation he had seen so many of his people die in those bloody wars and he was weary of it. Arthur wanted peace, he wanted order but he didn't know peace and order would be so… boring.
Arthur is thankful of the small things that had kept his boredom at bay throughout the years. His books and his precious tea as well as the pubs he occasionally goes to. Uni and flying mint bunny keep him company too and don't forget the fairies. He also does embroidery and other needlework. Whether Arthur would admit it or not, his fights with Francis are rather entertaining as well, but of course he'll die before admitting that… He's also practicing his cooking and is improving… At least his fried eggs no longer explode or burst into flames…
His modern life as nation is a satisfactory one. Although paperwork seems to piling up even more and a few of his fairies had disappeared. And other nations seems to more obnoxious than the usual. 'Those bloody bastards' England growled mentally. An evil aura rose from England as he thought of those 'bloody bastards' as Arthur liked to refer to them, not that he doesn't already use it to refer to a lot of people and by a lot means half of the people he knows. But Arthur mentally made a list of the people who are bastards, gits, wankers and idiots practically rolled in one body. Being a pervert is also a part of the characteristics but that belongs to France, most of the time.
Arthur's brothers are on the list of course, making emphasis on a certain Scotsman. Recently, his brothers seem to like 'surprise visits', especially whenever he is doing something really important like his embroidery. What others didn't know is that whenever Arthur and his brothers are not busy hurling hexes and spells or beating the hell out of each other, England's older brothers are rather touchy feely, especially Scotland when he is drunk. England didn't know what pissed him off more, the unending strings of curses he receives regularly or being glomp, pounced or being chained to his bed (Scotland honestly did that one when he got home from a pub, rat arsed(1) of course and found Arthur sleeping peacefully. Thank god for Wales, if it weren't for him... Arthur didn't even want to think about it.) Arthur is used to Connor's surprise hugs and occasional pecks on his cheeks, as well as Dylan's bear-like hugs but Scotland's antics really creep the hell out of Arthur. Allistor is normally violent and always picks on Arthur, often sending him jinxes and curses. Arthur and Allistor always have squabbles because Scotland can't stop being such a bloody arse. England can always feel Scotland's lingering gaze boring through his back and Allistor often attacks Arthur's personal space far too much for comfort. Now he doesn't only do it when his drunk, he does it whenever he feels like it and due to that Arthur could not tell when Allistor would suddenly pin him down or grab his arse (Scotland must be hanging around France again) England gets migraines whenever he remembers all of Scotland's recent 'attacks.'
Second would be America. Whenever America enters Arthur's mind, it is as if America had a huge sign forever glued to his forehead saying 'wanker'. Maybe that is why Arthur can't help but call Alfred a wanker every bleeding time they meet. The American has always been so annoying ever since he declared his so called independence. 'God, why can't America stay a kid forever' Arthur mentally sighed. But these past few years, Alfred has been more than irritable. Pouncing on Arthur every bloody time they meet. Seriously, doesn't Alfred know he could suffocate from the bear-like hugs America frequently gives him. And Alfred is getting far too heavy for hugs. 'America should really start dieting…' Arthur thought "or maybe he should lay back on the burgers…" Arthur muttered to himself. America has been scaring Arthur recently. The boy has been acting all weird around him, it's quite unnerving. Oh, he knew America had a few screws lose around his head, almost every country has a couple of screws lose up their noggins but America is… acting weird and England always found himself in the centre of America's weirdness or at least whenever he was in Alfred's vicinity. He also noticed the strange glint on America's eyes. He had never paid attention to it or at least tried to but Arthur knew it was there. He just couldn't put his finger around it.
France will forever be in this list. That was what Arthur decided just a few hundred years ago. True, he and the frog had a so called 'frenemy' relationship but the word still held its meaning. After all, it only had two letters from the word 'friend' and it had all the letters of 'enemy' in it. It made sense since Arthur would never view France as friend more than he views the Frenchman as an enemy, that would only happen when he's unconscious and have one hell of a hangover or when he was extremely happy, that rarely happened due to the fact that he would only be extremely happy if he was beating France to the ground. France has and will always be a pervert. England occasionally found himself sending pity looks at whoever country Francis has decided to harass, of course that being sexually as always. But these past few years France has mellowed a bit when it comes to him. France has lessened his 'assaults' on Arthur a little and no longer disagrees at every word that comes out of his mouth.(though France still does that just for old times' sakes) Arthur smiled a bit. The years of punching, kicking, beating, torturing, pummeling and all the things he did to France must have finally been planted onto his brain and maybe the frog was slowly, so painfully slow, learning not to mess with England. Thank whatever gods granted that miracle. Though, that doesn't mean France had already stopped being a perverted frog especially around England. It only means that Francis no longer tried to grab England's arse every bloody second he can, now he does that every couple of minutes, hours at his best…
Russia had unexpectedly made it through the list. Arthur and Ivan were never close because he preferred to stay away from the Russian as far as he can. But the last meeting gave England the expression that Russia was out to get him or kill him through irritating the hell out of him. Sure, Russia scared England but these past few days he was more pissed off than to care about that scary aura that looms around Russia, usually succeeding on terrifying Arthur as well as the rest of the countries sane enough to realize Russia is bad news. Arthur doesn't understand what he did to piss off Russia or what he honestly did to catch Russia's most unwanted attention. The bloody giant nation seemed to like pissing the hell out of him. Arthur didn't know what bad luck had attached itself to him that he was to suffer from wankers and gits coming onto him from every corner. For one thing, Ivan seemed to be insanely amused on Arthur, a fact that brought shivers through Arthur's spine. Did Russia got tired at picking on the Baltics and decided to pick on England instead? England doesn't even want to think about the answer cause Arthur somehow conjures up an image of a laughing Russia with his signature pipe, that ever I'M-INSANE smile on his face whenever he thinks of demanding an explanation from the giant nation. England sometimes has nightmares about it, Russia's kolkolkols ominously echoing in his head whenever he wakes up from these nightmares. Arthur doesn't know whether to be concerned about the fact that him, the personification of England was afraid of the soviet nation or the other fact that he dreamt about Russia, bleeding Russia. Something really must be wrong with him. Maybe Arthur should consider taking Ivan off the list. The list might be cursed if he didn't…
Another one was Romania. Arthur didn't really know anything much about the guy but… something threw England off whenever thinks about the Romanian. Arthur's face reddened slightly as he remembered the feeling of Romania's mouth around his finger. God, he should really stop reading those bloody eros. Despite what other nations think, well typically America, Arthur isn't going senile. He might be becoming a scatter-brain but by no means is he going senile. They aren't like normal humans, god how hard does it take to get it through Alfred thick-headed mind? "Probably a few more hundred years" Arthur dead-panned answering his own question. Even if he wanted to eradicate that memory out of his head, he somehow can't and that bleeding pissed off Arthur even more. Not to mention the fact that Romania seemed so smug when he left England a spluttering mess last meeting. Arthur made a mental note to kill the bloody Romanian just in case he did that again…
And also another irritation in the Englishman's life came in the form of one of the most annoying, obnoxious, most boisterous nation he had ever met, well, second to America but close enough…The door to his study was blown open, screws removed from their hinges. Arthur sat there wide-eyed as he looked at one of the irritations he was currently elaborating on.
"England, the awesome me has arrived! Kesesesese"
England twitched slightly. Speaking of bleeding annoyances, one of the biggest nuisances he had just broke down one of his doors…again. Not the Arthur wasn't used to it by now, it just vexed him that Gilbert had to take down at least a door or two whenever he came over. Arthur glared at the Prussian that was now smirking at the Englishman's annoyed expression. Arthur sigh, realizing that glaring at the Prussian idiot won't make him disappear or evaporate from the spot.
"Keep it down, you git! And you haven't 'arrived'. You have been a pain in my neck for two days now!" Arthur spat at the Prussian but it was losing its spark due to England's tiredness.
Prussia just smirked."Oh, cmon Arthur~, you know you love it when the Awesome me visits you" Gilbert winked at the Englishman which caused the receiver of the said action to slightly redden and spew more of his ever colorful 'endearments.'
When Arthur calmed down, he decided to ignore the albino and sit back down at his desk, something Gilbert didn't like. After all Gilbert didn't being ignored, he was too awesome for that. Arthur continued working on his paperwork but it was hard when a certain annoyance is watching not to mention leaning on your shoulder so close you could actually feel their breath on your neck. 'Is that peppermint I smell' Arthur thought as the scent of Gilbert's breath reaches his nose.
"Gilbert, how fast does a recently castrated man move?" England asked as if he was just asking about the weather. Prussia jolted away from the Brit. After all the years of 'friendship' he had with England he happens to know whether the man was bluffing or was bloody, deadly serious. And Arthur's 'statement' (it wasn't a goddamn question, spending time with Brits has gotten Gilbert pretty used to their sarcasm and disguised innuendos, something Gilbert noticed British people are rather fond of.) is just the type of which only a moron would not understand. Gilbert sort of wonders if Arthur had used the same 'statement' on Alfred and how did the American reacted.
Gilbert raised his hands in front of his face, a universal sign of surrendering. "So not awesome England, no need to threaten my five meters, dude so not awesome…" Prussia didn't want any confrontations with Arthur right now that he's tired and has a 96% chances of going ape-shit on him. He has seen Francis get beaten up rather badly when he pushed beyond Arthur's patience and Gilbert so not want to go back to West covered with bruises and wounds as well a few broken ribs. He walked away from Arthur who was now looking at him suspiciously as the awesome him went to one of England's bookshelf. Maybe, Gilbert will get his chance after Arthur relaxed a bit. Gilbert grabbed a book and sat down at the couch as Arthur continued with his paperwork.
Gilbert woke up, book on the floor and him sleeping on the couch. The light entering Arthur's study had a sort of gold colour, signaling that it was already late noon. Gilbert didn't know when exactly he had fallen asleep. All he knew was the book was really boring and he'll be killed if he disturbed Arthur thus must be leading him to fall asleep on the man's couch.
Gilbert looked at Arthur. The Englishman was massaging his neck, no doubt sore due to all the time he was hunched over those papers. It really is no wonder why that Arthur has a terrible stiff neck. Arthur looked ethereal on the gold lighting entering his study. Like a fragile phantom with his hair even though it is messy had a soft gleam in it and his eyes close as those languid fingers massaged his neck and shoulders.
Gilbert knew that Arthur is very beautiful. Of course he at least knew that. How long has he been crashing at Arthur's place not to notice. He has been dropping in and lounging in Arthur's house for decades. Whenever he wanted to drink something besides German beer or just wanted to escape West's so called 'training' he usually runs here. Arthur has been his friend for centuries and even if Arthur says he doesn't like Gilbert's company, Gilbert knows that England is happy he's here, if those slight smiles and the fact that Arthur always welcome Gilbert back are any indication. Not that Gilbert doesn't also crash at Antonio's or Francis' place, it's just that Antonio has Lovino and Gilbert certainly doesn't want to intrude.(he only does when he's with France)And Gilbert doesn't want to sleep anywhere near France, he'll be lucky if he escaped without being rape by the guy or having to listen to all of Francis perverted fantasies. He normally doesn't mind it but when France started talking about Lud or Ivan, Gilbert usually hightailed but not without hitting Francis on the head for mentally molesting his younger brother and just talking about Russia that way is just gross. He so doesn't want to hear France rant about how he would like to see underneath Ivan's coat. Gilbert made a mental note to recommend Francis to talk to a psychologist as soon as possible…
Yes, Arthur has been a valuable friend for Gilbert. A drinking buddy and great restrictor if Gilbert is getting too much. Usually Ludwig is Gilbert's restrictor but lately Gilbert notices that Arthur has also been a restrictor for Gilbert. Strangely Gilbert listens to Arthur (though sometimes he doesn't because he likes to tease the Brit)even without all the threats and Germany's brute strength(lots of people don't think Ludwig doesn't manhandle his brother but in avoidable times he throws a hard stomach jab at Gilbert and it fucking hurts) Arthur is a person Gilbert can go to at all times, that also goes the same for Arthur.
But these past centuries, Gilbert noticed that a lot of countries have an eye on the Brit. Too many to mention. Gilbert could make a list of nations that has feeling for the Brit, whether it was admiration or lust or fuck, even love, though Gilbert could never be sure about that department. But of course the relationship Gilbert has with Arthur is special. Gilbert just didn't know what feeling he has for the Brit… Prussia mentally slapped himself, hard. 'This is not the fucking time to think about that!' Gilbert mentally scolded his awesome self.
But back to the scenario here… Arthur apparently still has not noticed that Gilbert was awake because he was concentrating on lessening the muscle pain he has. A little scowl was on his face signaling that Arthur must not be reaching it. Actually the scene looked rather sensual really. Arthur's head tilted slightly giving Gilbert a generous view of his milky neck, Arthur's petite hand curved rather gracefully and Gott, those fingers…
'Gott, Arthur really does have a talent of being so goddamn seductive and alluring without knowing huh' Gilbert thought as he felt a warm feeling coil in his stomach. He remembers the last world meeting he had successfully sneaked in, England had aroused more than half of the male population in the room with his 'pirate act' Prussia wonders how the other nations would act when they saw him like this. Good thing he'll not find out.
Gilbert rose from the couch and walked stealthily toward England, his signature smirk on place. Arthur's eyelids snapped open as he heard the footsteps. He turned towards Prussia who was now beside him, grinning like an idiot. Arthur raised one of his eyebrows at the man.
"What do you bloody want now, Prussia" Arthur asked the white-haired man, tone hinted with accusation.
Gilbert just continued to smile. "The Awesome me was just going to help, you can thank me later…" And with that, Gilbert walked behind Arthur and removed the shorter man's hands away from his neck but was stopped by the Brit.
Arthur turned to look at the Prussian. "You better not try anything weird or I swear Prussia I'll…"
"Yeah, yeah, I'll not try anything you old timer." Prussia smirked as England frowned at him. 'England sorta looks cute when he frowns like that.' Prussia's smirk widening though it was wipe off when Arthur chuckled. Now it's the albino's turn to raise an eyebrow at the Brit.
Arthur let his hand fall to the table and stopped laughing. He looked at Gilbert who now raised an eyebrow at him." You're not as young as you used to be chap, if I remember correctly our age gap isn't that far" England smirked as he saw Prussia glare at him. Arthur could swear he had heard Gilbert mutter 'bastard' under his breath.
Arthur just turned his back on the Prussian and rechecked his paperwork. Gilbert didn't need to be told twice. It was a permission and one the Prussia took gladly. With a smirk, Gilbert started to massage Arthur's neck. His finger putting pressure on the taunted muscles while his other hand massaged Arthur's tender left shoulder. The soothing movement continued for minutes or more. Gilbert felt the shivers that run through Arthur's body as he continued to unwind those tensed nerves. He smirked.
Gilbert, even though Arthur wouldn't admit it, was doing a great job. It was true that Arthur needed help in reaching those painful areas. He lowered the papers and relaxed on his chair. Hell, he could imagine Gilbert's smug face. Just imagining made him want to punch the smug smirk off the taller man's face but Arthur just didn't care at this current moment. 'I'll just let this one pass' England thought as he mellowed even more.
The hands changed their positions. Now it was Prussia's left hand massaging his neck and the other kneading his right shoulder. Arthur let out a sound that suspiciously sounded like a mewl when Gilbert massage a rather sensitive part of his neck. Arthur blushed furiously when he heard Gilbert chuckle slightly, realizing what he had just done. The blush reached up the tip of his ears and his neck also reddened much to Prussia's amusement. Arthur's neck turned a very interesting colour of red. Now Gilbert understands why Spain loves tomatoes. Their red colour is just so appealing it beckons people to bite into them, that colour resembling the dainty neck in front of him now. Let's just say Prussia is having a hard time trying not to nibble at the said neck or worst, bite it…
England started to wiggle a bit, the red hue on his ears retreating but his neck remained red. He relaxed since it seems Prussia will not tease or try anything perverted on him. Arthur heaved a deep sigh to calm himself. This steady breathing had continued for a few long minutes.
Arthur was starting to calm down when Prussia pressed on that spot again, successfully bring out a moan from him. He blushed again but this time he hadn't heard anything from the Prussian. Come to think of it, Gilbert has been rather silent but nonetheless Arthur decided to reprimand him.
Without looking at Gilbert, Arthur said "Prussia, if you bloody try something like that again I'll…"
Arthur was cut off when he felt Gilbert's breath on his neck. The breath was cold but it made Arthur flush even more. Arthur's own breathing hitch when he felt Prussia's teeth, PRUSSIA'S TEETH! scrape across an artery. Arthur could clearly feel Gilbert's canines grazing through his skin. Arthur yelped when he felt something wet, Gilbert's tongue, slide through that cursed sensitive area on his neck. He could have sworn that Prussia mumbled "Just a taste" or something like that. His body shivered when Gilbert nibbled on that part once again abusing it.
Arthur jumped off the chair and backed away from the Prussian but as the gods seem to spite him, he tripped on the papers that were innocently laid on his floor. Arthur fell on his arse and cursed at his bad luck. 'Good thing that the floor was carpeted, it didn't hurt much.' Arthur thought as he rubbed his arse. It might not hurt that much but it still bloody hurt.
Arthur was going to cut off Prussia's goddamn bloody balls for what he did or at least hang him by his wee toes at the backyard. He looked up to glare at the Prussian but was stooped when he saw Gilbert hovering over him, leaning on his knees. His breathing hitched as the bloody Prussian trapped him, both of his hand on Arthur side, the rest of his body in between England's legs, knee dangerously close to… Arthur blushed again as he realized the position they are in.
"G-Gilbert, W-what the b-bloody hell are you doing! Y-you K-KRAUT!" Arthur shouted, resisting the instinct to throw the other man off. It wasn't the first time Gilbert tried something like this, after all he is friends with France. Arthur looked directly at the man's eyes. The look in them, Arthur didn't understand it. It wasn't the same as France's rape look, Arthur shivered as he remembered Francis' rape face. Somehow that look traumatized him, if not traumatized he's still bloody scared whenever he remembers it. Arthur suddenly had the urge to go France and punch Francis right in the face. But of course he can't, especially in the situation his in now…Maybe later…
Gilbert's eyes held a serious gleam in it, it sort of unnerved Arthur. True, it also held glints of lust in it (Arthur can tell that, based on Francis' looks. He's an expert in it. Come to think of it Francis' eyes always held that lecherous look in them, another reason to flog the man hard on the face.)but it held something warm in it. Gilbert's breathing was labored and Arthur clearly saw himself in Gilbert's red irises. Another sign that wasn't just lust, Gilbert's eyes weren't dull by it.
Arthur paled when he saw Prussia's head advance to his neck, their bodies far too bloody close for comfort. Gilbert sniffed Arthur's hair. 'He smells like a trees, their leaves, of that bitter smell of oak and strangely…of vanilla.' Gilbert took another sniff of Arthur's scent. Gilbert has always been tempted to ask why Arthur smelled like he had been sleeping in piles of leaves and twigs or if he has been spending time at the forests nearby his house. Arthur's smell has always intrigued Gilbert. The vanilla or wherever that came from gave the wood-like smell sweetness in it. France had told Gilbert that England is a child of nature. According to Francis, Arthur had lived in the forests for a long time. He knew the every inch of it. Thinking about it, Arthur's scent suited him. Gilbert hummed in agreement.
"Gilbert?"
Gilbert's eyes snapped open. He doesn't remember closing them. He had withdrawn his head from the nook of England's neck in order to look at Arthur. One of Arthur's eyebrows was raised at him. 'Arthur doesn't look like he's scared or he'll murder me.' Gilbert sighed. He threw England a genuine smile. Gilbert might not know how he felt about the shorter man but he knew Arthur was important.
"Arthur, I-…"
BAM!
Arthur and Gilbert looked at the door, wide-eyed. The whole door was broken down together with its hinges. Oh, well so much for fixing it. In the door stood a red-faced Northern Ireland, a frothing Wales and furious Scotland. England raised and eyebrow at them.
Scotland yelled "Get the hell off me wee brother! Ye bastard!"
"What do you mean…"that was when Arthur remembered the position Gilbert and him are in. He blushed as Scotland hauled Gilbert off of him. Scotland punched Gilbert on the face, hard…
And that's how the day ended, with Arthur trying to calm down Allistor and his brothers and with Arthur and Prussia explaining that nothing happened, though Prussia had a large bruise in his face that from Scotland of course. In the end Gilbert didn't finish what he had wanted to say to the Brit.
A castle in Romania…
Romania was sitting on of the castle's windows, hair being blown by the wind as he looks at the full moon. A squeak got his attention. He looked upward, seeing a bat hanging upside down, clawing onto the cracks of the window. Romania smiled at the bat and the bat let out another squeak as if to say he is happy to see the nation.
"You know I met someone interesting in the world meeting" Romania said, smiling at the bat again. The bat just let out a few squeaks as if it is talking to the strawberry blond young man.
Romania pouted when he heard the squeaks the bat made. "No, it wasn't Hungary" Romania answered. "And why would it be Hungary, she's really boring you know" Romania added turning to look at the moon again. The bat flew in Romania's side, squeaks and all. Romania just smirked at his friend.
"No, no one you said~" Romania said in sing-song voice. The bat just tipped his head to the side and squeaked some more.
Romania just smiled again. "Arthur is really cute, you know…"
The bat just squeaked some more and Romania laughed, laughter echoed through the castle halls, audible to the servants that were still wandering throughout the castle.
"Yes, he's very interesting and just so cute~" Romania rested his head in palms and looked up the moon.
The bat had squeaked some more and flew above Romania's head. Romania blinked his eyes repeatedly when he heard the question. The bat flew back beside Romania in order to see what the man's reaction to his question was.
"Arthur is just not interesting and cute…"Romania closed his eyes to think. His lips curved to a smirk. "He also happens to taste very nice." He turned to look at his companion, red eyes shining in bliss and mischievousness. The bat just opened its mouth to form what seemed to be toothy grin. The bat launched itself to the sky.
"Ahh, I can't wait until the next meeting…" Romania said looking at the lone bat that flew in the light of the full moon.
(1).rat-arsed: terribly drunk
Well guys, that's it. Urgh... I sort of hate the Scotland brawl part, I was planning to make it longer! Sorry for all the people that were waiting for more Romania/England. That is the best I could fit it. And I see Prussia has appeared, my mind has been mentally begging me to make a PrUk fanfic but since I'm still busy this is the best I could do. And to those who are wondering what I have been raving about, the whole 'Prussia crashes at England's place' I developed the head cannon when I heard 'Oresama's blog' the part when Prussia had dinner in England place. England doesn't normally invite people to dinner and they seemed to be very good friends and ummm… so there. And sorry if this chapter is a failure, I was practicing for future chapters…
And yayyy~ I got my laptop back, well not really back. My brother is just kind enough to let me borrow it. And happy birthday to my nii-chan, HAPPY BIRTHDAY NII-CHAN! Please review and tell me if I did well or not, if I have anything to improve, it's really weird writing something like this… So much different from reading it… And also if you liked the PrUk!
P.S
Chapters, why are you being sooo overly long!