Rivalry

Part 20

For a moment, England was sure that he'd heard him wrong. America had just said that he loved him? Although he'd been sort of expecting the words and his stomach had been twisting with nervous, excited butterflies since he'd first noticed how badly America was blushing and stuttering, he still was shocked by the sudden declaration.

America, who was also standing there in silence, was also shocked by the words that had come out of his mouth. Wha—what? Where had that come from?

Although, now that he'd said it, he had to admit that the words had been true. He wasn't sure just when he'd started to fall in love with the older nation, but he'd been feeling like this for a while… And…now that he'd said it, he felt terrified of how England was going to react. He hadn't said anything yet; he was just standing there with a confused expression on his face.

For a few moments, they just stared at each other, England's cheeks starting to flush a bright red as America kept opening and closing his mouth, attempting to figure out what to say.

"I—I—"

England held up a finger, motioning for him to stay quiet. He didn't need the American to say something stupid and completely ruin the mood.

Because I love you, Iggy.

He kept replaying that line through his head. I love you. I love you.

"You aren't mad, are you, Iggy?" America suddenly questioned. England knew that he'd say something stupid. He glared at the younger nation, not missing the slight flinch that passed through America's eyes at the hard stare. "I—I mean…" He took a deep breath. "Aren't you going to say something?"

Bloody git. He was still trying to convert America's words into his long-term memory. "Shut up, git."

America scowled. "Come on, I just said that I love you. You can't just stay there ignoring me."

Stupid, bloody git. England turned, glaring at the American—who flinched slightly at the expression. "I would think it would be obvious by now that I love you too, you idiot."

Again, they just stood there staring at each other. Until America grinned. "Really? Really? Well, why didn't you say so earlier, Iggy?" And then he suddenly found himself pulled back up against America's body, his mouth covered by a pair of lips that were now more than ready to take dominance. England would have fought back, but he figured that America deserved the chance for once.

Besides, he was a bloody good kisser.

He leaned closer, not even noticing as America's fingers slowly began to inch down his back, tugging him farther into his lap, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.

"Fifty bucks on Al topping the hell out of Artie!"

"Prusse!"

"Bruder!!"

England had about two seconds in which to turn the brightest red ever seen in human history before he fell into the dirt. America jerking to his feet, his face flushing red in a mixture of anger and embarrassment at the sudden exclamation. That Prussia was dead. He turned, catching the eyes of the crowd of voyeurs that had been attending to hide behind a nearby tree.

Or, France, Spain, and Prussia had been attempting to hide behind the tree. Germany was sitting on a bench a few feet away, pointedly pretending that he didn't know any of them. Italy sitting beside him, watching the scene with obvious fascination. As America started heading for them, he clapped his hands and called, "Yay! America and England finally admitted that they like each other!"

Romano, who was sitting on the other side of his brother, still wearing his uniform, and not looking happy about his proximity to the potato bastard, just snorted irritably. "Took you idiots long enough. Can we go home now so I can get out of this fucking outfit?"

Germany, who actually knew how to read the atmosphere, immediately stood, grabbing the younger Italian's hand and dragging him after him back toward the restaurant's parking lot. "Come on, Feli. Why don't you show me what you taught the humans to make once we get back home?"

Italy bounced ahead. "Ve~ okay, Doitsu!!"

Prussia and France had also immediately jumped up when they saw the steaming nation start heading toward them, France grabbing the oblivious Spain's hand, sending Romano to his feet in a rage. "Hey, hands off!"

"Hey, don't let me down, Al!" Prussia yelled back, as he ran past the bench where Romano was standing. "Oi, bruder! Don't forget the awesomeness!"

The other three followed, although France tossed a few suggestions over his shoulder that sent England's cheeks to an even more impressive shade of red. Which probably shouldn't have even been possible without breaking a few blood vessels. And Romano dragged Spain away from the other nation as soon as they got close to him, dragging him toward his car while throwing curses at each of the other nations in turn.

England just sat on the ground for a few moments more, trying to return his skin to a normal colour by thought alone.

Which wasn't helped along when America suddenly knelt down next to him, his face in surprisingly close proximity.

Damn it.

He'd have his revenge on Prussia later. "You know, it's kind of a shame that your date was ruined. You looked like you were having fun."

"Well, it's nice sometimes to go somewhere nice…"

America grinned, the smile disarming the older nation. "I think I saw a nice place a few streets down. I don't think that place is ever going to let any of us inside again, so how about we go there to finish our meals?"

England blinked in confusion, and then frowned. "Not McDonald's?"

"Not McDonald's." He now stood, offering his hand to the blonde. "What do you say?"

For a moment, England just stared at the offered hand. Then grinned slightly and took it, using it to propel himself up. "Fine, but you're paying for it, since you're technically the one who ruined this meal."

America beamed, flashing him a thumbs up. "Of course, Iggy, 'cause heroes always pay for their damsels in distress!" Then he jumped ahead before England had a chance to react to the new nickname. Once he was far enough away to have a decent head start, he turned. "Hey, by the way, Iggy, I was wondering. Where exactly is your tattoo?"

And he was rather grateful for that head start.

"WHO TOLD YOU ABOUT THAT?!?"

A/N: I seriously think that Gilbo might be suicidal. He'd better find somewhere good to hide, because America and England are going to hunt him down to the ends of the earth.

One more chapter. Wow…it's hard to believe I'm this close to being done. And then…PRUCAN!! :D Haha. All right, so next chapter will hopefully be out by Thursday *crosses fingers*. Since my mum is coming on Thursday to stay with me during my spring break and I doubt I'll be getting much writing done then, unless I decide to take my laptop with me for the ride up to Scotland. So yes…

I think the next chapter may be a Spamano omake, although I'm not sure yet ;D