Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
America is about fifteen years old here.
Love was in the air.
Well, a crush was.
France watched in amusement as Prussia yelled at the Continental Army—and America himself.
"Now drop and give me fifty !"
There was some disgruntled muttering from the humans, but everyone complied.
America stole the occasional starry-eyed glance at Prussia when he wasn't looking.
Young love. Prussia seemed to be oblivious to the fact that he gave America heart palpitations—or maybe he was just pretending not to notice.
America was still a child, after all—acknowledging his schoolboy crush could potentially make things very awkward.
And America was very bad at hiding his feelings.
Though, really, who had a crush on their drill instructor?
Apparently, America.
France himself had noticed it months ago, when, after Prussia had adjusted America's stance, he'd been reduced to a blushing, stuttering mess, barely keeping himself together.
France did not see the appeal—of Prussia, anyways—but he made America's heart soar.
"Alright, maggots!" Prussia barked when everyone had finished with the push-ups. As he launched into another rant, America's gaze never left him.
That night, France visited America in his tent.
"Oh! Hey, Francis!" America greeted.
"Hello, Amerique," France said, taking a seat across from him.
"What's up?" America asked.
"Just visiting," France said. "I noticed you seem quite fond of Gilbert."
And the mention of his crush, America's face lit up.
"He's amazing! And I've learned so much from him, and he treats me like an adult instead of a little kid, and—" America gushed.
"You like him," France said.
America's face morphed into an expression of confusion.
"Uh, yeah, that's what you just said…?" America said.
France suppressed the urge to sigh; he'd forgotten who he was talking to.
"You have a crush on him," France clarified.
America's face turned red, and he sputtered.
"What? N-no I don't! Besides, we're both boys, so I can't."
This time, France really did sigh. Did England teach him anything about the finer matters of life?
"I assure you, Alfred, you can. There are men who only like men. There are men like women and men. And then there are others—like moi—who don't care much one way of the other," France said.
America seemed to perk up slightly.
"Really?" he said. "I've had crushes on some of the girl colonists before, but England never said you could like boys, too."
Of course he hadn't.
"I assure you, you can," France assured him.
"Oh," America said. "B-but! That doesn't mean I have a crush on him. I just like being around him, and he makes my heart—"
America stopped, eyes going wide and face turning beet-red.
He buried his face in his hands.
"Oh God," he moaned. "I have a crush on him."
France let out a chuckle.
"I told you," he said, affectionately ruffling America 's hair. "I am the Country of Love. I know when someone has a crush."
"This is so embarrassing," America moaned. "He's never gonna like me back."
Well, not right now. Even if Prussia didn't treat America like a child, he was still aware that America technically was one. He'd never encourage him when their age gap was what it was.
Regardless of America's feelings, he was currently unable to consent to Prussia, and Prussia knew this.
Though that was assuming Prussia was aware of America's crush at all, which was questionable. Prussia was not a romantic.
"Don't tell him! Please don't tell him, please!" America cried.
Privately, France thought that it was more likely Prussia would hear from the sheer volume of America's shouting (did the boy have any concept for volume control? At all?), but reassured him, anyways.
"No, of course not," France said. "Your secret is safe with me, Alfred."
1783
They'd won. England had been forced to relinquish his hold over America, and he was now independent.
Prussia and France were getting ready to head back to Europe.
"Thank you! For everything," America said.
"You're welcome, Amerique," France said. The chance to stick it to England had been too tempting to resist.
"Yeah, kid, I knew you could do it," Prussia said. "You just needed some encouragement and training. You had potential. You just needed a bit of help to get there."
Of course, that "help" was being a ruthless taskmaster whipping America and the Continental Army into shape, but it had worked.
America nodded, looking starry-eyed.
"Oh, and one more thing, kid," Prussia said.
"Yes?" America said.
Prussia approached him and laid a hand on his shoulder.
"This is all very flattering, but I'm afraid I'm taken," he said.
America's face flushed.
"W-what?" he squeaked. He shot an accusatory look at France. "Francis!"
France shrugged.
"I did not tell him," France said.
"Seriously, kid. You weren't subtle. At all," Prussia snorted.
Without waiting for a response, he boarded the ship.
France gave America's hair an affectionate ruffle, and followed.
Note: I am aware bisexuality includes non-binary people. However, America has just figured out he isn't straight, and this IS the eighteenth century. Non-binary people existed, but they weren't real visible in society, if that makes sense.