Of Tea and Opium

by peony-and-poppy

A collection of England/China drabbles I've written. They're not continuous or linked in any way. Most are based off of fanart by my favourite artist. If you're curious, just ask, and I'll be happy to link you to her pixiv account. Others are based off of requests. Some are based off of other artist's fanworks. Rating varies. Enjoy!

3. Chapter 3

Rating: PG?
Pairing: England/China
Word Count: 403
Notes: Yadda, yadda. I drabble IggyChu when I'm avoiding homework. Actually, I'm supposed to be writing final papers. There will be a flood of these. OTL

xxx

"Move." It was the only word that left China's lips, but it was enough to send shivers down England's spine.

"And if I don't, you will ...?"

"I'll throw a chair at your face." Simple, straight to the point: England loved that about China. He wouldn't move, though, even if it meant coming face-to-face with a chair.

"Arthur. Move."

The way China said his name also sent shivers down his spine. It made his stomach twist, his chest ache, his fingers tingle.

"You've been working too hard, Yao. How about a little break?" His hand remained on the paper China was attempting to read. China—finally—turned his attention to England, gold eyes meeting green ones, and England had to bite the inside of his cheek to refrain from reaching out, grabbing China's chin, and—

"No." China moved his hand and grabbed another paper; his eyes, however, remained pinned to England's. "If you are tired, go take a nap." A smile—a smug smile that England wanted to wipe away, wanted to kiss away—appeared on China's lips.

England considered it. After a second, he grinned and leaned down. He softly touched his lips to China's ear, felt China shudder in surprise, and whispered, "Why don't we nap together." He anticipated the shove and grabbed China's wrist. A hard yank. A shove. Papers littered the floor.

"Yao ..."

China half-glared at England; the Asian nation managed to pin him against the table and had the nerve to glare at him! "Yao... this is rather uncomforta-"

"Arthur, when will you learn?"

England chuckled, ignoring the ridiculous pain shooting across his back, "Give in. It'll make things easier, Yao."

China sighed. Of course England would say that to him when he was the one pinned down. He eyed the nation beneath him and shook his head. The papers were a mess on the floor, and picking them up was not something China wanted to do.

"Never," China mumbled, releasing England's wrists, slowly moving his hands up the man's chest. He pressed his body against England's, holding back a pleased smile when England groaned in response. "But ... a nap with you doesn't sound too bad," he murmured, gently pressing their lips together.

The pain in his back and the chair that would eventually be thrown his way hardly mattered; England wrapped his arms around China's waist and pulled him closer, smirking into the kiss.