It wasn't like America didn't want to listen to Russia's presentation on…global warming…? No, fossil fuels! That was it. It wasn't like he wasn't trying. He was just very…distracted by other…things.
With a groan, America placed a hand on his stomach and ran his other hand through his hair.
Russia turned to him and smiled far too pleasantly. "Am I boring you, America?" Everyone at the table turned their attention to him as well, curiously taking in his frazzled appearance.
"Nope!" He exclaimed, grinning far too wide for his pained expression. "Please, continue!"
The G8 turned their attention back to Russia, who nodded in approval and continued his rambling. America let out a low groan, holding his stomach and hitting his head on the table with a soft thump. He struggled to lift himself up as his stomach grumbled uncomfortably, and was slightly taken back to lock eyes with another pair across the table.
England smirked knowingly.
"What the fuck did you do to me?" America mouthed, squeaking in discomfort as his stomach released yet another low rumble.
England played innocent, placing his hand to his ear and shrugging with wide, confused eyes.
America glared, whispering a little this time. "What the fuck did you do to me?"
"I can't hear you." England mouthed back in response, gesturing to his lips and then to his ear, shrugging again, still in complete wholesomeness.
America scowled. England knew damn well what he was saying! He opened his mouth, ready to give England a piece of his mind; Russia be damned, when he felt…it.
Without warning, America slammed his hands onto the table and hoisted himself to his feet. Spinning on his heels, and with not so much as a nod to dignify the other nation's questioning looks, he exited the room with a bizarre shuffle/speed-walk hybrid type action, slamming the door behind him in his wake.
The remaining nations exchanged surprised glances, Italy's face falling in worry. "Wow, that was really strange. I hope he's okay…" He mumbled.
"I wouldn't fret." England smiled, sipping at his cup of tea causally. "It was probably just something he ate. Do continue Russia, we can fill him in on what he missed when he returns."
As everyone, once again, turned their attention back to the large nation and his talk of fossil fuels, England smiled proudly at his briefcase, where his small bottle sat comfortably.
He patted the top of the case proudly, congratulating the laxatives on a job well done.
"I'm going to die."
America sat on the toilet, his head between his knees, moaning in agony. He checked his watch with half lidded eyes for lack of anything better to do. Two hours. He had spent two hours in this fucking bathroom while his stomach emptied its entire contents for god knows what reason. He let out another moan.
The bathroom door opened attentively, and America briefly glanced under the stall in hopes of recognizing who his visitor was by their shoes. There was a brief moment of alarm when he didn't see anything, and he cursed himself for choosing a haunted bathroom. But before he would panic too much, a small voice called to him.
"America?"
"Canada?" Well that would explain why he didn't see anything at least.
Footsteps came closer until they stopped in front of America's stall. "You okay? You've been in there a while…"
"I'm dying."
"You're not dying." Canada rolled his eyes; his brother could be such a drama queen. "England put laxatives in your coffee, you'll be fine once you're all…" he shuddered. "Finished."
There was a groan and a sound Canada wasn't even aware the human body could make before America replied maliciously. "Oh, is he gonna get it."
Canada sighed. "America, how long is this going to go on?"
There was a pause. "I dunno, depends on how much laxative he put in my coffee."
Oh, gross. "Not that!" The smaller nation held the bridge of his nose in irritation. "I mean this whole prank war thing. You can't honestly be enjoying all this."
"Well I'm not right now." America grunted. "But I'm sure as hell not going to be the first one to back down."
"I was afraid of that," Canada sighed. "Just promise me you wont let this get out of hand, okay?"
Silence.
"America."
"Okay, okay, I promise. Sheesh."
Canada nodded in satisfaction, turning to leave. "It's lunch by the way. Italy wanted to know if he should bring you some pasta."
"Uuugh."
"I'll just…take that as a no."
The walk back to the hotel was full of high tensions for America and England. America clutched his folder of papers, charts, and statistics to his chest and rested his eyes on various objects around him, as long as they were in the direction England was not. His lips formed an unmistakable pout and his strides were at double their normal length.
The older country, however, was grinning wildly, a playful twinkle in his eye as he continued to keep in step with America.
"Rather shoddy meeting today wasn't it?" England asked with a smirk, finally breaking the silence. America made an annoyed "humph" in response.
"Russia certainly had a lot of crap to say, today."
America's eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.
"Real diarrhea of the mouth." England continued, his grin widening.
America gripped his papers tighter. England beamed.
"He must have been right pooped!"
"Shut the fuck up, will ya?! It's not funny! I spent three hours on that fucking toilet!"
England shut his mouth for a moment, glancing up at the pouting nation. America had taken to walking even faster now, his eyes focused straight ahead and jaw firmly set. Crossing his arms, England stuck his nose into the air. "Party pooper."
"Asshole," America grunted. The two suddenly stopped walking and stared at each other for a few moments, each taking in what America had just said. They blinked once, and England erupted into a fit of hysterics. Despite himself, America let a small smirk sneak to his lips as he continued walking. "Oh, fuck you."
"And, yeah throw in one of those too. No, no the one with the cheese. Yeah, and a salad. Ranch. Yeah. No. Can you do that? Awesome! Ummm, what kind of cake? Yeah I'll take one of those, and a cookie! Chocolate chip. Yep. Yep. Room 237. Yep! Bye!"
England raised an eyebrow. "What the bloody hell did you just order?"
"Everything." America replied simply, plopping next to England on his bed. "I'm fucking starving. If you didn't notice, my entire digestive system is flowing through the Canadian sewer system as we speak, and I will eat what I want."
England shook his head, scooting away from America as he made himself comfortable on his bed. "You have your own bed, you twat."
"But it's all the way over there!" America whined. "Plus yours is actually a lot more comfortable. Trade?"
"Why the hell would I trade when you just openly confessed to my bed being superior?" He scoffed and nudged America away from him with his foot. "Make room, you bloody overweight cow."
America reluctantly scooted a few centimeters away and huffed. "There is no way you can call me fat right now, you bastard. Not after today." He pulled his shirt up, reveling his well-toned stomach to a considerably pleased England. "See? Skin and bones. I've wasted away to nothing thanks to you."
England puffed his cheeks in annoyance, turning his head away so the younger nation wouldn't see his blush. Skin and bones his arse. "You are a twat." He fiddled with the book he had been trying to read, looking at the page but seeing nothing but black scribbles. "Why did you order all of that ridiculously expensive room service food, anyway? They have an open kitchen in this hotel, I could have made you something."
America's face filled with horror, eyes wide at the older nation from his spot on the pillow beside him. "Because I've already had explosive diarrhea once today by your hands. I'm set for a while, thanks."
England glared as a knock and call of 'room service!' floated from the door. With a roll of his eyes and a yelp from the young nation, England booted America off the bed and to the floor. "Just go get your bloody food."
Rubbing his behind, America stuck his tongue out as he hoisted himself to his feet. England rolled his eyes, and turned his attention back to his book as America answered the door. "Well, hey here!" He heard him call. "Yep, that's me. Uh-huh, thanks! Have a great day!" he came back around the corner grinning from ear to ear.
England blinked. "They gave you the cart?"
"I have a lot of food." America shrugged and sat down at the end of England's bed and started opening boxes and lifting up treys, with a triumphant 'ah-ha!' he spun around and shoved a box in England's face. "Here, I got you this."
"What did you do to it?" England asked, taking it but holding it a good distance from his person. Never know when something was going to explode around here.
America laughed, grabbing a hotdog from the cart and shoving it into his mouth. "Noffin'!" He swallowed. "Just saw it on the menu and thought you would appreciate it."
England narrowed his eyes suspiciously before peaking inside the box. "Fish and chips?" He asked, opening the box fully and blinking in surprise.
"Right-o!" The younger nation grinned. "Fish and chips with a spot-o' tea and crumpets! Jolly good!" England cringed at the ridiculously fake British accent but smiled nonetheless.
"You're a git. But thank you."
America simply flashed his movie star smile and a thumbs-up and returned to tearing through his mountain of food. England fiddled with the box of seafood and potatoes in his hands and smiled at the back of the young nation's head. Blushing ever so lightly, he took a fork out from inside the box and nibbled on a chip.
Apparently, America didn't give a damn that England was unwilling to surrender his bed. He had made himself quite comfortable, and England was just going to have to deal with that. Unless of course, England thought he would be able to physically move America himself, but come on, pretty unlikely.
England scoffed as the tosser made himself comfortable, flipping through television channels, laying just close enough to the older nation to make him extremely uncomfortable and holy hell, was it hot in here or is it just him?
England bit his lip, his book in front of his face, but his eyes trailing along America's strong shoulders… golden hair… blue eyes…
Blue eyes that were looking right at him. "Bloody hell!"
"And welcome back to the living. Dude you were seriously spacing out there. What's up?"
England blushed, crossing his arms with a huff and jerking his head away from America. "I-I was just…trying to figure out what's going on in that insignificant little head of yours!" Yeah, that was good, keep going with that. "I'm surprised you haven't tried to pay me back for this morning's incident is all!"
America grinned. "Oh, that? Ha! Don't you worry. You'll get what's coming to you." He turned his attention back to the TV with an evil little smirk gracing his lips. "When you least expect it."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me, old man." America glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "I got some big plans for you, and I don't want you to see them coming."
England scoffed. "Bring it on, brat. I'll have you begging for mercy before you even get a chance to strike."
The nations settled into a thick but comfortable silence as they lay beside each other on England's so much more comfy bed. Each was lost in his own thoughts; blissfully unaware they were identical to the other's.
I need to make a phone call.
"Nein. The last thing we need is to have him involved in this."
"Non, non! I think this idea is tres magnifique!"
Canada sighed and stared pleadingly at Germany. "Please? I really think this could finally end this whole thing between America and England. You know they're going to call him eventually."
Germany sighed. "Mein Bruder causes more problems than he does solutions."
"But when it comes to dealings with practical jokes, Prussia-san really is the only option." Japan pointed out politely. "I do not see any other way."
Russia grinned, holding up his pipe. "I could terminate them completely, ja?"
Italy's eyes widened as he scooted closer to Germany. "Vee~! I like the plan with big brother Prussia more."
"Please, Germany?" Canada asked, desperately. Germany sighed.
"It will be difficult to get him to agree to come here on such a short notice."
Canada smiled. "Don't worry about that, I think I have an idea."
PRUSSIA BITCHES! Please, like there could be a fic about pranks and not include the awesome Prussia? I think not! This chapyer totally included like, my 2 favorite things: puns and toilet humor. I love it!
Anyway, Summer time for me! Kinda. I'm still stuck at school (in the dorms D: I miss my apartment) for the rest of the month for track, but no classes!! Woo! Anyway, hope you enjoyed!
And just so you guys know, you ROCK. I didn't think this fic would get to be so popular, and you guys are just fantastic! Keep it up!
