This was written in like a half hour because reasons, okay? And yeah, sure, It hasn't been re-read or proofed to speak of, and yeah, sure, I'll probably regret posting this in the morning but idk how restraint works. I need to find myself an Alistair...

Oh whatever, just...

Enjoy whatever the fuck this is.

When Scotland arrived back from his stay in Edinburgh, the first thing he noticed was that the house was messier than ususal. Not in a 'someone's been here and trashed it' kind of way, but in a 'This place hasn't been cleaned in a few days' kind of way. Although that could be attributed to the fact that England had gotten used to Scotland doing a lot of the cleaning and not bothering to do it, so he didn't pay it much mind.

The second thing he noticed was that Scone actually greeted him. The small Scottish fold trotted up to him and rubbed against his legs with a loud meow. He frowned at this, but simply stroked the cat briefly on the head, continuing on further into the house.

A brief search yielded no England on the lower floor, which lead Scotland to resolve that he was in his study.

But no…

Okay, he was concerned now, England had promised to be home when he arrived.

Deciding he was being paranoid, he headed toward England's bedroom to change into something more comfortable.

When he arrived, he was greeted by England, curled up on the bed and facing away from him. Was he still asleep? It was four in the afternoon…

He sat down on the bed, reaching out a hand to squeeze England's bare shoulder, intending to wake him up because really, four in the afternoon was neither a good time to go to sleep, nor to wake up.

"You're back already."

It was probably supposed to be a question, but the tone was so flat it sounded like a statement.

"I am." He replied, a worried frown on his face. Was this what he thought it was? Now that he thought back on it, all the signs were there, he just hoped the more severe ones weren't. "Just when I said I'd be."

"Hmmn. Are you."

Scotland rounded the bed, peering down to look at England's expression only to learn that there wasn't one to speak of, only a slight downturn of his eyebrows. Luckily, those eyebrows seemed to be the worst symptom this time around. "Artie, are you-"

"Stupid question, how does it look."

His suspicions confirmed, Scotland knelt down beside the bed, reaching out to take one of England's hands in his and curling their fingers together gently. "It looks like shite. Do you want anything?"

England's eyes crinkled the tiniest amount at that, and Scotland smiled at the small victory.

"No."

"When was the last time you ate?"

"Last night."

"Drank?"

"Last night."

Scotland stood, "Alright, I'm going to make tea and order dinner, and then we can sort out the rest, okay?"

England just sighed.

At this, Scotland rolled his eyes, leaning over the bed and scooping England up into his arms. He laughed at the surprised squawk he drew from the other man, pressing a kiss to his flustered cheek. "Lying in bed and feeling sorry for yourself isn't helping either of us. We're going sit downstairs on the couch and feel sorry for you together, got it? Now, what did you want for dinner?"

England frowned at him, but after a few seconds of looking at Scotland's grin, it melted into something softer, tiredly laying his head on Scotland's shoulder. "Okay then. Can we order Indian?"

"We can order whatever you want." Scotland said softly as they started down the stairs, "I'll go back to being a stubborn and argumentative piece of shit when you're back to your usual self again. For now, I'm just worried about getting him back first. I miss the arrogant prat you usually are."

England just hummed noncommittally. Scotland didn't mind so much, he'd gotten enough conversation out of him to consider himself accomplished. He as good as fell onto the couch, positioning them so they were pressed close and pulling a blanket from the back of the couch to wrap around them.

"Hey, England," He said, tilting England's face up to look at him, "I know this doesn't make it better, but I love you, okay?"

England managed a small smile at that, "I love you too. Thank you for coming home."

Scotland sighed, brushing a hand through England's hair, "Thank you for not doing anything stupid until I did."

England hummed, resting his head back in the crook of Scotland's shoulder, and Scotland couldn't help but press a kiss to his scalp before reaching into his pocket to order England's Indian.

Half an hour later they were tangled up together on that same couch watching classic doctor who while eating take away curry, and while Scotland more than knew it wasn't a solution, if the slight upturn of England's lips was anything to go by, then it was better.

And really, better was all they could hope for.