A/N: Okay, before you read this chapter, go back and reread chapter 3. I fixed it so it makes some more sense now.
England let out a (manly) scream. America came running.
"What's wrong?" America asked as he crashed into the kitchen.
"My . . . My tea!" Engalnd exclaimed, showing America the chewed through teabags. America busted up laughing.
"It's not funny!" England exclaimed throwing a teabag at America's face.
"Yes . . . Yes it is!" American said between laughs. "Your face was too funny!"
England glared at him and threw the empty box at him and stormed out, going up the stairs and slamming the door shut behind himself. He wasn't actually mad at America, but he wasn't going to let the other know that, England sighed, pulling off his shirt with the intention to change. He stopped, looking at the shirt in his hand, he shrugged and dropped it on the floor, his sat down on his bed and pulled out his laptop. England pulled a blanket around his shoulder, turning on his laptop.
Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on the door. England ignored it.
"Iggy? You're not actually mad at me are you?" America called through the door. Silence from England. "England?"
The door slowly opened, England, have put on both headphones, didn't even notice. America suddenly pushed down his laptop screen, closing it.
"Hey! I was watching that!" England protested, glaring at America, who just pulled off England's head phones and stole the laptop. England pouted, turning away from him.
"Oooo, shirtless! Mind if I join?" America asked, grinning.
"America! Keep your shirt on!" England exclaimed, spinning away and smacking America's hands, which were grabbing the end of America's shirt.
"Ow," America whined, rubbing his hands
"Don't be a cry baby America," England grumbled.
"You're not actually mad at me, are you Iggy?" America asked, giving England a pitiful, dejected look. England gave him an emotionless look.
"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. So this really isn't a good time to be flirting," He responded.
"Every time is a good time to flirt!" America exclaimed, grinning.
"No, there are wrong times, and right times."
"And what time would this count as?"
" . . . ." England didn't respond to America, avoiding making eye contact.
"Welll?" America prompted again.
"It's an okay time," England grumbled.
America smirked, he grabbed the blanket that was wrapped around England and pulled the brit up before tossing the blanket to the side.
"Well, if it's an okay time . . . ."
"America, I didn't say you could- Mmm!"
America chuckled as he closed Englands door behind him, pulling his shirt back on. He walked into his bedroom and flopped down on his bed, he grabbed his phone.
"Hey, France? . . . . . Yeah, It's me. . . . I'm free tonight . . . . Nonono, your place, England's over here . . . naa, it's fine, he's . . . preoccupied.
A/N: Don't give me that look, I didn't lie! Not every chapter will be like this. Oh, that's not what you're glaring at me about . . . . . Oooooh.