Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
I've written America as autistic because that's my main headcanon for him. It's not a huge thing, and it's offhandedly mentioned. But. He's autistic.
The mall was crowded, but Lithuania didn't let it bother him as he listened to America go on.
"—there's so much to do, Tolys!" America cried, waving his hands as he spoke. "Come on, I'll show you around!"
Lithuania couldn't help but smile at his boyfriend's enthusiasm; he loved how America got so passionate about things.
This festival America had invited him to—Lithuanian Days—was apparently the oldest ethnic festival in the United States.
While Lithuania wasn't one for large social gatherings like this, it was celebrating his culture, so of course he'd agreed to come.
It was impressive, Lithuania noted as America pulled him around by the hand. It was nice that America's people were so into celebrating his culture.
They stopped at the food vender first; it was noon, and both were hungry.
Lithuania went for the šaltibarščiai; America seemed unsure on what to try first. Lithuania, who knew that America's tastes could be finicky at times (apparently this was common with autistic people), nudged him in the direction of kugelis, which Lithuania knew he liked.
America still ended up trying everything, anyways.
Lithuania sighed as he patted America on the back, who was currently gagging over a bowl of lapienė.
"I told you you wouldn't like it," Lithuania said, taking the bowl and finishing it himself. America didn't really like spinach. It was something in the texture, Lithuania suspected.
America pouted.
After it was gone, they went to see the rest of the festival, but not before America grabbed some desserts.
"So, where do you wanna go next?" America asked, munching on some tinginys.
"Um," Lithuania said, holding a half-eaten žagarėliai as he looked around. He did a double-take as his gaze landed on a table. "Are those margučiai?"
America brightened.
"They're easter eggs!" he said, pulling Lithuania over.
"Yes, Alfred. That's what margučiai are," Lithuania said, finishing the pastry as they stopped at the table.
A woman was creating intricate designs on the eggs by scratching away at the paint.
The woman didn't stop, but did speak up.
"Hello," she said. "What can I do for you boys today?"
As she finished an egg, she set it down.
"This is Tolys," America said. "He's actually from Lithuania!"
The woman smiled warmly.
"Welcome," she said. "I hope you enjoy your time here!"
"It's really nice," Lithuania said. "I can't believe you all have a festival to celebrate m—our culture."
"Well, here in Pennsylvania, we have the largest concentration of Lithuanian-Americans," the woman said.
Lithuania actually did know that, but nodded anyway.
"How much for one?" America asked.
"Two dollars," the woman replied.
America handed her a load of cash, and received a basket of margučiai in return.
"Here you go, Tolys!" he said.
Lithuania took it, blinking; something warm stirred in his chest.
"Oh gosh, thank you, Alfred," he said, privately thinking it was kind of a lot. But he didn't want to seem ungrateful—he was touched, really-but how was he supposed to return the favor?
Logically, Lithuania knew America wouldn't really care that much, but he still wanted to do something for him.
They walked around the mall, stopping at different vendors—America seemed particularly intrigued with a karpiniai depicting two children underneath a tree with several branches.
There was a tag on it; fifty dollars.
Lithuania dug into his pocket and pulled out fifty dollars as the vendor was explaining the art of karpiniai to America—he'd exchanged his euros for dollars when he'd landed in the States.
"Um—excuse me?" Lithuania said. "I'd like to buy it, if I could."
The vendor took the money, and handed him the picture—it was a good thing the basket of margučiai was safely in a bag.
Lithuania turned and handed it to America.
"Here," Lithuania said, handing it to him. "You really seemed to like it, so—"
He was cut off by America enveloping him in a bear hug.
"Dude, that's so sweet!" America cried. "Thanks so much! You didn't have to do that ya know!"
"You liked it," Lithuania repeated. "And you've done so much for me—inviting me here, paying for my plane ticket, getting me an entire basket of margučiai—"
"Uh, yeah, dude. Because I love you," America said. "You don't have to worry about—repaying me, or anything. I did it because I care about you."
"I care about you, too," Lithuania said. This wasn't a conversation they should be having in the middle of a crowded mall—let alone an ethnic festival—but it wasn't really America's fault. America didn't quite understand a lot of intricacies of social interaction, and that was okay. Lithuania wouldn't have him any other way. "And you really liked it, so I wanted you to have it."
He was relieved to find out it was true; he supposed if it were just about repaying America, he probably would have gotten the first thing he found instead of waiting for something America really liked.
America grabbed his hand.
"Thank you," he said. "It's really sweet of you." He flashed him a bright and sunny smile. "Hey, I know something you'll probably be interested in!"
"What?" Lithuania asked.
"Come on!" America said.
America brought him to a place called the Heritage Room; it was like a miniature museum, filled with Lithuanian artifacts.
Lithuania stared, momentarily breathless.
He approached a glass case, filled with old books and information on Lithuanians in sports. On top, it was covered in folk art—wood carvings, ceramics, and karpiniai. There was a straw chandelier hanging above.
It was beautiful.
He turned as America approached.
"So—do you like it?" America asked, looking a little nervous.
Lithuania leaned over and kissed America on the cheek, making him flush slightly.
"It's wonderful," he said. "I'm really glad you brought me here, Alfred."
America beamed.
"Uh—yeah, man," he said, somewhat awkwardly. Lithuania tried not to smile; America tended to get flustered during romantic gestures, and it was adorable. "Me, too."
He gave Lithuania a quick peck on the lips.
"Come on, Tolys," he said. "There's a lot more to look at in here."
Lithuania slipped his hand into America's, and they continued through the Heritage Room.
Lithuanian Days is a real ethnic festival in Pennsylvania. I spent hours looking at pictures of the festival in order to write this.
Karpiniai is creating art via paper cutting.