Mid 19th Century

Argentina got out of bed carefully, trying not to wake his boyfriend. Chile thankfully slept soundly and rarely noticed when he got up. It made it easier for him to get out of bed and start preparing coffee and breakfast as Chile slept. It made him feel like a good partner to provide that little bit of pampering.

He tucked the blankets in securely around the man and gave him a light kiss on the forehead before getting up. He got half way across the room before he heard the quiet groan of his partner waking. From the sound, he guessed that Chile's eyes were open, but he had yet to move. There was no rustling of blankets, just the sound of his breathing changing and the groan of being resistant to the new day.

Then, his voice carried across the room, "Where are you going?"
Argentina turned around to see that Chile's eyes were still half-closed and fixed on him. He smiled at Chile and replied, "I am going to go make breakfast."

The other stuck out his lower lip in a pout that looked almost out of place on his sharp features. He was only half-awake, and Argentina could not help but find it adorable the way that he still looked so relaxed and comfortable, but he is screwing his face into a contrived pout.

Chile said, his voice laden with impudence, "No, don't go."

He sounded like he was trying to be commanding, but ended up sounding more like an insistent child. Argentina smiled at him; he was being far too cute not to indulge some of his whims.

Chile extended his hand out from under the blankets and made a grabbing motion at Argentina that reminded Argentina of his young brothers. He said, "Come here and kiss me."

Argentina decided to indulge this tired demanding; he had little else that he needed to do with the morning and Chile was being so cute. It was so hard to tell him no when he was being so intentionally adorable.

He walked back over and stood close enough that Chile's outstretched hand could reach his hip. He indulged in letting Chile pull him closer, though one hand was hardly strong enough to do that.

Then, Chile propped himself up on one arms as Argentina leaned down to join their lips. The touch was sweet and soft. But, as they kissed, Chile put both of his arms around his neck.
Then, with a surprising little tug, he pulled Argentina towards him. Argentina understood the hint; Chile didn't want him to be out of bed quite yet.

As he broke the kiss, he chuckled and said, "If you insist." He folded himself back into bed next to his partner.
Chile said, running one hands through Argentina's dark curls, "I always get what I want."

Argentina kissed his forehead and pulled him closer so that Chile's legs could wrap around him, and said, "Whatever you say, amor. I was going to make you breakfast."

Chile's hand that was not in his hair began to trace its way down his stomach. The light touch made Argentina involuntarily shiver. Little goosebumps bloomed all over his skin. Chile smirked as he saw it, like this was exactly what he wanted. He said, "You can make breakfast later."

His hand moved even lower, and gave the Argentine one hard teasing stroke. Argentina let out a ragged breath. He hadn't expected these kind of assertive teasing, but he was not going to complain.

His lover gave him one more long deliberate stroke that made him groan. Chile leaned in and said, "I want you first."

Argentina smiled and pulled him into a deeper kiss, while he guided Chile's legs around his waist. Then he gave Chile's butt a squeeze, to show him that they were thinking the same thing. As he pulled out of the kiss, he said, "You're right. You do get what you want."

—
19th Century

Argentina took a deep breath of the air. He loved the open air, it smelled of freedom. It was especially crisp this time of year.

He looked at Chile's back as the tall man stood out on in the long grass.

Argentina could tell that his partner had been stressed the last week with the pressure of politics. Chile's brother had been putting pressure on his borders and it had been weighing on him. He had not said it; he very rarely said when he was stressed. But, Argentina could see it in the hunch of his shoulders and the way he clenched and unclenched his fists when he had a perturbing thought.

He had suggested this early morning ride as a chance to escape to the one place where they could be away for a while. It was their place, where they had always stolen away to find time alone with each other. It was the same place in the Pampas with a tree that Chile had once carved their initials in for permanence. No one in the world knew about this place but the two of them.

He finished securing the horses before he walked up behind Chile. He could feel the cool autumn breeze tousling his dark curls.

He could see that Chile had his head tilted back and his eyes closed. The angle of his head made his features look all the sharper. He looked like he was deeply absorbed in the sounds of the morning.

Argentina wanted to speak to him, wanted to ask what was on his mind. But, the look of deep peace was too precious to interrupt.

He put his hands on Chile's shoulders lightly. Chile let out a low breath and leaned into the touch. He put his hand on Argentina's on his shoulder. He gave it a light squeeze and said, his voice hardly louder than the wind, "No words just quiet, please."

His voice sounded soft and tender, like he hardly wanted to keep the peace. But he did lean back against Argentina's broad chest. He opened his eyes and looked at Argentina.
There was no need for words at all. His eyes spoke volumes. They told him that Chile wanted a moment of tenderness. That in his stress, all he wanted was to feel a moment of love.
Argentina leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. Then, Chile turned towards him completely, inviting the further contact. He brushed back Argentina's curls with his hand as the taller man leaned in again and pressed their lips together.

He felt Chile put both arms around his shoulders and pull him in. He could feel the stress melting out of Chile's body as he held him closer and kissed him as tenderly as he could.

As they parted, Chile trailed his hand softly down the side of his partner's face and said softly, "I want to stay here with you." Argentina replied, "We can stay as long as you want."

He kissed Chile again, holding him close like he could protect him from the pressure of the world forever. As long as they had each other in this place that was theirs, it would be enough.

—-

World Cup 2018

Mexico felt his phone vibrate and he opened it to a text that said, "Come to my room, please. Kitten, I need you now."

He knew who it was from, and there was no question in his mind about responding. He knew that Argentina would need him in this moment. He quickly wrote back "On my way."

He only grabbed his hotel key before leaving the room. It didn't take him long to get to Argentina's room. He knocked several times hard on the door.

There were a couple moments of tense silence, where Mexico worried about Argentina. He knew what had happened in the game earlier in the day, and he knew how badly Argentina must be hurting.

The door opened slowly to reveal Argentina. His waves were falling over his eyes, which was a bad sign. Since he had learned how to be confident, he had brushed his hair back. But, this was a sign that he was feeling terrible about himself.

As soon as he saw who was standing at his door, Argentina pulled Mexico into a tight hug. He said, "Kitten, it hurts." His voice was shaking, and Mexico knew what that meant about his emotional state. All of Argentina's crushing strength was wrapped around him, and it was almost too much.

Mexico turned his head to kiss the other man on the cheek. He said, putting one of his hands in Argentina's blonde waves, "It's alright, my darling."

Argentina leaned back, and Mexico was able to reach up and brush back his hair. His cheeks were wet and his eyes were swollen. It was so clear that he had been crying. Mexico said, "Let's go inside."

He was worried that, in this state, someone might see through Argentina's usual arrogant facade to his vulnerable core. It was better not to be out in the hall.

Argentina nodded, still looking like he was fighting back tears. Mexico followed him into the hotel room and firmly closed the door behind him. The room looked messy, but that wasn't unexpected. Argentina ran one hand roughly through his hair, and turned back to Mexico. He said, "I'm not ready for everyone to see me like this."

Mexico took the initiative to walk over to him and looked him directly in the eyes. He said, "We don't have to go out until you are ready."
For emphasis, he reached up and placed his hand against Argentina's face. The taller man looked down at him and said, his voice sounding strained, "Thank you. I knew you would understand."

Mexico nodded. He knew this was not the world cup that Argentina had been expecting, and he was taking it poorly. He was more sensitive than most people knew, and it was difficult for him to deal with humiliation like this.

Argentina's dark eyes started to fill with tears again as he said, "Come sit with me." He took Mexico by the hand and led him over to the bed.
Mexico said, trying to be coy, "The bed? Is that the kind of comfort you want?"
Argentina turned to him and said, his voice still shaking, "I don't know."

He sat on the bed heavily, and Mexico felt a pang of guilt at his teasing. He should know that Argentina genuinely wasn't certain what he wanted out of this moment.

Mexico sat beside him, and took his hand again. He said, hoping to comfort him, "There is still a chance."
Argentina pulled in a deep breath that made his big chest heave. He said, still clearly upset, "I was supposed to be a favorite to win."

Mexico said back, "You're still incredible. One loss doesn't mean you're a failure."

Argentina's eyes communicated so many thoughts as he looked directly at Mexico. But, without saying anything, he put his hand under Mexico's chin and leaned in. Mexico knew what he was doing, and leaned in enough for it to be easy for Argentina to kiss his lips. The touch was soft, clearly reaching for comfort.

Mexico put his hand on the other's face and could feel the moisture on his cheeks. The kiss was short, and Mexico felt a little empty when they parted.

Argentina said, "Thank you. I needed to hear that."
Mexico smiled, and said, "I'm always glad to help."

Argentina was quiet for a moment, and then he said, "I'm glad Isabelle hasn't said anything yet. I'm sure she's feeling smug."
Mexico scoffed and edged closer to Argentina, "I'm sure she will notice that I'm gone. She'll guess that I'm with you."

The other looked at him and said, "You two have already been together?"

Mexico knew he didn't really need to answer the question. The implication was enough. He saw something shift in the taller man's demeanor, and a slight smile turn up the corner of his mouth.

Argentina put his hands on Mexico's hips and pulled him easily into his lap. Mexico raised one eyebrow, though he had no doubt why.

Argentina said, as explanation, "Well, I can at least prove that I am better at one thing."
Mexico planted a soft kiss on his forehead before he said, "You know I love you both." Though Mexico enjoyed the rivalry between them, he wouldn't choose one over the other.

Argentina pulled him into a deeper kiss, this time firm and clear in his intention. When he pulled away, Argentina said, with a smile, "Such a spoiled prince. You get to have both."
Mexico responded, "But you love me."
Argentina replied simply, "I do."