More America/Romano from your friendly neighborhood kink meme
America's Sleepytime Adventures: For the prompt: America looks for someone to sleep with him after watching a scary movie.
Word Count: 2,546
“E-England?” America poked the older nation as he snored on. “England?” that time was a little more urgent, “England!”
“Hm? Why yes indeed, Mr. Pumpernickel, I have already found Candy Mountain,” England patted his head sleepily before rolling over again.
Crap, he fell asleep on him again. He said he wouldn’t but he did. True, England had called him an idiot for trying to get through the entire Zombie Vampire Werewolf Murder Movie Marathon (but he was a hero and he had to prove Canada wrong. And he did, thank you very much) and claimed he would let the American sleep by himself that night, but he caved eventually, for which America was grateful. Except now his companion had gone off to Slumberville without him. Selfish jerk.
America gathered up the courage to leave the warmth and safety of England’s bed and ventured out into the hallway. All of the nations were staying in the same hotel; somebody had to still be awake and willing to sleep with him!
He knocked as quietly as he could on the door of the room he knew Japan was saying in. Japan lived on the other side of the world; surely the time difference meant he was still awake.
“America-san!” Japan whispered as he answered the door. “What is it? Don’t tell me…you went through with it, didn’t you?”
America whined and nodded. “Um…can I sleep with you?”
The small Asian blushed and stammered out, “I d-don’t think that would be a good idea…”
“Who is it Japan?” a sleepier than normal Greece yawned from inside the room.
“It’s just America. Go back to sleep, I’ll be there soon.”
“Oh,” the blonde nation said as it finally dawned on him, “Greece is sleeping with you tonight.”
Japan went even redder. “Y-yes, that appears to be the case…”
“Got room for one more?” America grinned at his friend.
“No.” The door was unceremoniously shut in his face.
Not one to give up, America headed down the hall to Lithuania’s room. The dude worried so much he was probably still awake.
“Mr. America?” he asked in a hushed tone, “Is something wrong?”
“Uh…is it alright if I sleep with you tonight?”
Lithuania seemed taken aback by that at first before he remembered something and America’s words clicked, “Oh, did you watch another scary movie?”
He nodded guiltily and bit his lip as he waited for the other nation’s response.
“Sorry, Mr. America, but…” Lithuania opened the door a little wider so the light from the hallway fell on his bed where Estonia and Latvia were curled up, fast asleep, “Latvia had a nightmare, so Estonia and I were comforting him until he fell asleep. I don’t think you’ll be able to fit…”
“Ah, that’s alright. I understand,” he smiled as his friend regretfully shut the door. Lithuania needed to spend more time with his brothers after all. Speaking of which, America had a brother too didn’t he?
Canada was staying at the end of the hallway, which meant he had to walk down the dark, creepy hallway with who knows what waiting to jump out and feast on his innards. Being the hero that American was though, none of this bugged him at all. He certainly didn’t jump and squeal in terror at the moans that were coming from France’s room. It’s not like he assumed the Frenchman was being attacked by ghosts or anything…it was just France, so when he decided to sprint the rest of the way to Canada’s room, that wasn’t out of terror, that was just to get away from France. Yes, that was it.
Eventually America did reach his brother’s room, and knocked on the door, and was greeted by his sleepy brother.
“Wuzzit?” the Canadian yawned.
“Can I sleep with you?” America asked, ignoring the high pitched sound in his voice.
“You a-actually went through with it?” Canada asked as he stifled a yawn. His brother nodded, “Alright, come on in.” Feeling much better already, America bolted inside and jumped on the bed.
“We’ve still got a meeting tomorrow, so let’s just get to sleep,” the other nation muttered as he too climbed into the bed.
“Y-yeah…” America pulled the blankets up further around himself as he tried to nod off to sleep. Suddenly there was a sharp tapping sound that could either be murderous ghosts or the wind.
“What was that?” he whispered to his brother, who just continued snoring lightly in his ear. “Canada? Canada, wake up! You can’t sleep before me!”
“M’wake…” he muttered before rolling over and going back to sleep.
“Canada? Canada!!” America tried to shake his brother awake again, but it was all for naught.
Dejected, but knowing he would not be able to get to sleep at this rate, America slunk out of the room.
If friends and family were no good, he decided, than he should just randomly knock on a door and see what came up. As it turned out, Norway was staying in the room next to Canada.
“America?” he asked, confused, “What do you want? Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Not a clue,” he said truthfully, “Can I sleep with you?”
“Excuse me?”
“I, uh, need someone to stay awake while I fall asleep…please?” he remembered to add. People tended to be more open to this kind of thing when he said please.
Norway raised an eyebrow. “Why do you need a lookout?”
“I d-don’t need a lookout! I just need someone to keep an eye on things while I go to sleep…”
The Norwegian still looked skeptical. “Alright, I was waiting up for Denmark anyway. But when time traveling monkeys come after you because you stole their sacred ruby, I’m just going to tell them where it is.”
“…Norway, are you okay? You haven’t been smoking anything right?”
Norway rubbed his face in an irritated fashion, “I’m just tired is all. Denmark and Prussia were supposed to be back hours ago…”
“Well, that’s fine and all,” America said as he entered the room and hopped into Norway’s bed, “just don’t fall asleep on me now, okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” he yawned before turning out the light behind him, hopping into bed, and promptly falling asleep.
“Norway?” America whispered as he poked the northern nation, who just swatted his hand away and muttered something about pineapples.
The darkness and all the demons that lived in it started to creep in around America, making him feel uneasy, when the door burst open and the lights were turned on by a drunken Denmark.
“Yo, Norge, sorry m’late, I was just…” he stopped when he saw the other two nations in bed together. Maybe Denmark would stay awake until America fell asleep…
“Norway!” Denmark shouted as he shook said nation away, “Why is America in your bed?”
“Took t’long,” Norway muttered, “Fell ‘sleep.”
“But…but…I thought you and me…”
America wasn’t going to get much sleep at this rate, and he possibly might have caused a domestic incident between the two, so he quietly took his leave.
He tried two doors down on the other side of the hallway. He would have gone further, but the not-ghosts in France’s room were getting louder, which mean more violent, and America would have preferred not to encounter violent not-ghosts on this outing thank you very much.
The door he did knock on happened to be Liechtenstein’s.
“Mr. America?” she asked, sleepy and confused.
“Liechtenstein, um, can I sleep with you tonight?”
“Eh?” America vaguely heard the click of a gun behind him before he felt it on the back of his head.
“What did you just ask her?” he heard Switzerland say menacingly behind him.
“I need someone to sleep with,” America repeated. “You can join us if you want.”
“You’ve got three seconds to back away from the door,” the gun pressed harder to the back of his head.
“It’s kinda hard to do that when you’re standing right behind me…”
“Did I ask for your excuses?”
A ghost howled (or maybe it was just the air vents in the hotel) so America heroically shielded Switzerland’s body with his own by hugging him tight so the evil ghosts couldn’t attack him.
“Oh,” Liechtenstein yawned, “so that’s all it was about,” both male nations looked at her confused, “since that’s settled I’ll just to back to sleep now. Good night Mr. America, Brother. Don’t stay up too late having fun,” she smiled politely at them before shutting the door.
“What’s settled?” America wondered aloud while Switzerland tried to disentangle himself from the larger nation’s grip.
“N-nothing, it doesn’t matter,” was he blushing? He looked like he was blushing, “I think she’s been spending too much time with Hungary.”
“Okay,” he let go of the Swiss nation before asking him, “So, can I sleep with you then?”
Switzerland looked at him funny before ramming the butt of his gun into America’s stomach and walking away. So that wasn’t going to work, and he was back at square one, a square that the young nation was starting to detest more and more. And was starting to hear the murderous zombies moaning outside, crawling up the sides of the building, forcing their way through so they could pin him down and suck out his and the others’ brains with bending straws, leaving them mindless shells of their former selves and-
“Oi,” America turned to see Romano leaning against his door, across the hall and three doors down, sipping wine, still dressed in the clothes he wore that day, “are you the bastard that’s been knock knocking up and down the hallway all night while some of us are trying to sleep?”
“Yes,” he answered truthfully.
“Che, figures,” he sipped some more wine, “what are you doing?”
“I need someone to sleep with me. Hey, you’re still awake do you mind-” just then the vicious creatures living in the hotel’s vents (or maybe it was just the air conditioning) moved about, so America heroically protected Romano in a similar manner to what he did for Switzerland. The Italian somehow managed to not spill his wine.
“…Let go of me.”
“Right, sorry,” America complied, “So, since you’re still awake and all, can I sleep with you?”
Romano blinked and stared at him like he had three heads or something. Wait, he didn’t right? Wasn’t that a side-effect of zombieism? America patted his head just to make sure he was still among the living.
“If you want a bed partner,” Romano continued, “I’m sure France would be more than happy too-”
“France always falls asleep before me, and he’s always so gropey.”
“…What exactly do you want me to do?”
“Just like, stay awake until I fall asleep…please?”
“What, you afraid of the dark or something?”
“Psh, of course not,” just the things that may or may not be lurking in it.
He drowned the last of his wine before replying, “Fine. My brother’s in with the potato-bastard tonight anyway, so the bed’s free.”
“Thank you!” he smiled at him before bouncing into the room and snuggling under the covers, “You coming?” America asked as Romano closed the door.
“Yeah, hold on,” the Italian set the wine glass down and took off his shirt.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting ready for bed,” Romano answered as he started fiddling with his belt.
“What are you going to sleep naked or something?” he chuckled nervously as he looked around for pajamas that the Italian would change into.
“You mean you aren’t?” he chucked the belt to the side and started fiddling with his pants.
“Wait wait! You can’t come in bed naked!”
“Why not? We’re not going to have sex or anything, so it’s fine.”
“So," America pondered, "if we were having sex, you being naked wouldn’t be fine?”
“Sh-shut up! The point is we’re not going to do anything but sleep, and I can’t sleep with clothes on, so what’s the problem!”
“But, it’s awkward to have you naked sleeping next to me if you’re not my lover…” America muttered, “Can’t you just keep your pants on until I fall asleep?”
Romano glared it him for about ten seconds, seeming to internally debate something with himself, before scoffing out a “Fine,” turning off the light, and crawling into the bed besides America.
“This is uncomfortable,” he barked out after about a minute, “are you asleep yet?”
“No,” the younger nation admitted as he rolled over and wrapped his arms around Romano.
“…This is not necessary.”
“It’ll help though,” America yawned as he pulled the Italian even closer, “Why don’t you tell me a story or something?”
“Once upon a time there was a stupid American who knew nothing about personal boundaries,” he began, “he ended up pissing off an already aggravated Italian. The next day he got hit by a bus and died. The end.”
“That was a lame story. And it needs a happy ending or I’m going to worry about it all night.”
"What are you talking about? That was a happy ending," America gave him a look that showed his disagreement, “Let me go and I’ll sing you a lullaby.”
“Really?” he immediately let go, “Go ahead; I’ve never heard you sing before.”
Romano coughed and sat up. He might have blushed too, but it was too dark to tell. He did feel a bit warmer though, “I can only sing in Italian though, so don’t bitch to me about not understanding anything.”
America nodded. He’d never tell the other nations because he liked listening to what they had to say when they didn’t want them to hear him, but because of his large immigrant population, he could pretty much understand just about all of their languages. Speaking them did give him a headache though, so he preferred speaking in English.
Romano cleared his throat again before singing, in a surprisingly soothing tone, considering it was Romano:
“Stella stellina
La notte si avvicina,
La fiamma traballa,
La mucca é nella stalla.
“Che, this is pointless…” he muttered.
“No s’not,” America grabbed him around the waist again and pulled him close. This time he just went with it, “keep goin’,” the American muttered, half awake.
Romano sighed, and pulled off the idiot’s glasses to place them on the nightstand before continuing:
“La pecora e l’agnello,
La vacca col vitello,
La chioccia coi pulcini,
La gatta coi gattini,
E tutti fan la nanna,
Nel cuore della mamma.”
When he was done, he glanced over to see that America was fast asleep, breathing deeply and clutching at him tightly. Romano managed to escape his grasp, climb out of bed, and finally shed himself of his pants and boxers before eyeing the couch with interest. A quick glance back to the bed showed that his new roommate had replaced him with a pillow, and he knew he’d suffer a similar fate if he tried the bed again, making the couch a very good option.
For some reason though, Romano decided to crawl back into the bed and once again be trapped in America’s warm embrace. He was tired, damnit, and this was his room anyway, so he should get the bed. It’s not like he enjoyed being cuddled by America, because he didn’t.
As for the American, his dreams were pleasantly zombie, ghost, monster and demon free. He should sleep with Romano more often.
A/N: The lullaby is called 'Stella Stellina,' or 'Star Little Star.' Have a link.
Translation:
Star, little star
The night is approaching:
the flame is tottering,
The cow is in the cowshed.
The sheep and the lamb,
The cow with the calf.
The hend with its chicks.
The cat with its kittens;
And all are sleeping in the mother's heart!
Word Count: 2,546
“E-England?” America poked the older nation as he snored on. “England?” that time was a little more urgent, “England!”
“Hm? Why yes indeed, Mr. Pumpernickel, I have already found Candy Mountain,” England patted his head sleepily before rolling over again.
Crap, he fell asleep on him again. He said he wouldn’t but he did. True, England had called him an idiot for trying to get through the entire Zombie Vampire Werewolf Murder Movie Marathon (but he was a hero and he had to prove Canada wrong. And he did, thank you very much) and claimed he would let the American sleep by himself that night, but he caved eventually, for which America was grateful. Except now his companion had gone off to Slumberville without him. Selfish jerk.
America gathered up the courage to leave the warmth and safety of England’s bed and ventured out into the hallway. All of the nations were staying in the same hotel; somebody had to still be awake and willing to sleep with him!
He knocked as quietly as he could on the door of the room he knew Japan was saying in. Japan lived on the other side of the world; surely the time difference meant he was still awake.
“America-san!” Japan whispered as he answered the door. “What is it? Don’t tell me…you went through with it, didn’t you?”
America whined and nodded. “Um…can I sleep with you?”
The small Asian blushed and stammered out, “I d-don’t think that would be a good idea…”
“Who is it Japan?” a sleepier than normal Greece yawned from inside the room.
“It’s just America. Go back to sleep, I’ll be there soon.”
“Oh,” the blonde nation said as it finally dawned on him, “Greece is sleeping with you tonight.”
Japan went even redder. “Y-yes, that appears to be the case…”
“Got room for one more?” America grinned at his friend.
“No.” The door was unceremoniously shut in his face.
Not one to give up, America headed down the hall to Lithuania’s room. The dude worried so much he was probably still awake.
“Mr. America?” he asked in a hushed tone, “Is something wrong?”
“Uh…is it alright if I sleep with you tonight?”
Lithuania seemed taken aback by that at first before he remembered something and America’s words clicked, “Oh, did you watch another scary movie?”
He nodded guiltily and bit his lip as he waited for the other nation’s response.
“Sorry, Mr. America, but…” Lithuania opened the door a little wider so the light from the hallway fell on his bed where Estonia and Latvia were curled up, fast asleep, “Latvia had a nightmare, so Estonia and I were comforting him until he fell asleep. I don’t think you’ll be able to fit…”
“Ah, that’s alright. I understand,” he smiled as his friend regretfully shut the door. Lithuania needed to spend more time with his brothers after all. Speaking of which, America had a brother too didn’t he?
Canada was staying at the end of the hallway, which meant he had to walk down the dark, creepy hallway with who knows what waiting to jump out and feast on his innards. Being the hero that American was though, none of this bugged him at all. He certainly didn’t jump and squeal in terror at the moans that were coming from France’s room. It’s not like he assumed the Frenchman was being attacked by ghosts or anything…it was just France, so when he decided to sprint the rest of the way to Canada’s room, that wasn’t out of terror, that was just to get away from France. Yes, that was it.
Eventually America did reach his brother’s room, and knocked on the door, and was greeted by his sleepy brother.
“Wuzzit?” the Canadian yawned.
“Can I sleep with you?” America asked, ignoring the high pitched sound in his voice.
“You a-actually went through with it?” Canada asked as he stifled a yawn. His brother nodded, “Alright, come on in.” Feeling much better already, America bolted inside and jumped on the bed.
“We’ve still got a meeting tomorrow, so let’s just get to sleep,” the other nation muttered as he too climbed into the bed.
“Y-yeah…” America pulled the blankets up further around himself as he tried to nod off to sleep. Suddenly there was a sharp tapping sound that could either be murderous ghosts or the wind.
“What was that?” he whispered to his brother, who just continued snoring lightly in his ear. “Canada? Canada, wake up! You can’t sleep before me!”
“M’wake…” he muttered before rolling over and going back to sleep.
“Canada? Canada!!” America tried to shake his brother awake again, but it was all for naught.
Dejected, but knowing he would not be able to get to sleep at this rate, America slunk out of the room.
If friends and family were no good, he decided, than he should just randomly knock on a door and see what came up. As it turned out, Norway was staying in the room next to Canada.
“America?” he asked, confused, “What do you want? Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Not a clue,” he said truthfully, “Can I sleep with you?”
“Excuse me?”
“I, uh, need someone to stay awake while I fall asleep…please?” he remembered to add. People tended to be more open to this kind of thing when he said please.
Norway raised an eyebrow. “Why do you need a lookout?”
“I d-don’t need a lookout! I just need someone to keep an eye on things while I go to sleep…”
The Norwegian still looked skeptical. “Alright, I was waiting up for Denmark anyway. But when time traveling monkeys come after you because you stole their sacred ruby, I’m just going to tell them where it is.”
“…Norway, are you okay? You haven’t been smoking anything right?”
Norway rubbed his face in an irritated fashion, “I’m just tired is all. Denmark and Prussia were supposed to be back hours ago…”
“Well, that’s fine and all,” America said as he entered the room and hopped into Norway’s bed, “just don’t fall asleep on me now, okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” he yawned before turning out the light behind him, hopping into bed, and promptly falling asleep.
“Norway?” America whispered as he poked the northern nation, who just swatted his hand away and muttered something about pineapples.
The darkness and all the demons that lived in it started to creep in around America, making him feel uneasy, when the door burst open and the lights were turned on by a drunken Denmark.
“Yo, Norge, sorry m’late, I was just…” he stopped when he saw the other two nations in bed together. Maybe Denmark would stay awake until America fell asleep…
“Norway!” Denmark shouted as he shook said nation away, “Why is America in your bed?”
“Took t’long,” Norway muttered, “Fell ‘sleep.”
“But…but…I thought you and me…”
America wasn’t going to get much sleep at this rate, and he possibly might have caused a domestic incident between the two, so he quietly took his leave.
He tried two doors down on the other side of the hallway. He would have gone further, but the not-ghosts in France’s room were getting louder, which mean more violent, and America would have preferred not to encounter violent not-ghosts on this outing thank you very much.
The door he did knock on happened to be Liechtenstein’s.
“Mr. America?” she asked, sleepy and confused.
“Liechtenstein, um, can I sleep with you tonight?”
“Eh?” America vaguely heard the click of a gun behind him before he felt it on the back of his head.
“What did you just ask her?” he heard Switzerland say menacingly behind him.
“I need someone to sleep with,” America repeated. “You can join us if you want.”
“You’ve got three seconds to back away from the door,” the gun pressed harder to the back of his head.
“It’s kinda hard to do that when you’re standing right behind me…”
“Did I ask for your excuses?”
A ghost howled (or maybe it was just the air vents in the hotel) so America heroically shielded Switzerland’s body with his own by hugging him tight so the evil ghosts couldn’t attack him.
“Oh,” Liechtenstein yawned, “so that’s all it was about,” both male nations looked at her confused, “since that’s settled I’ll just to back to sleep now. Good night Mr. America, Brother. Don’t stay up too late having fun,” she smiled politely at them before shutting the door.
“What’s settled?” America wondered aloud while Switzerland tried to disentangle himself from the larger nation’s grip.
“N-nothing, it doesn’t matter,” was he blushing? He looked like he was blushing, “I think she’s been spending too much time with Hungary.”
“Okay,” he let go of the Swiss nation before asking him, “So, can I sleep with you then?”
Switzerland looked at him funny before ramming the butt of his gun into America’s stomach and walking away. So that wasn’t going to work, and he was back at square one, a square that the young nation was starting to detest more and more. And was starting to hear the murderous zombies moaning outside, crawling up the sides of the building, forcing their way through so they could pin him down and suck out his and the others’ brains with bending straws, leaving them mindless shells of their former selves and-
“Oi,” America turned to see Romano leaning against his door, across the hall and three doors down, sipping wine, still dressed in the clothes he wore that day, “are you the bastard that’s been knock knocking up and down the hallway all night while some of us are trying to sleep?”
“Yes,” he answered truthfully.
“Che, figures,” he sipped some more wine, “what are you doing?”
“I need someone to sleep with me. Hey, you’re still awake do you mind-” just then the vicious creatures living in the hotel’s vents (or maybe it was just the air conditioning) moved about, so America heroically protected Romano in a similar manner to what he did for Switzerland. The Italian somehow managed to not spill his wine.
“…Let go of me.”
“Right, sorry,” America complied, “So, since you’re still awake and all, can I sleep with you?”
Romano blinked and stared at him like he had three heads or something. Wait, he didn’t right? Wasn’t that a side-effect of zombieism? America patted his head just to make sure he was still among the living.
“If you want a bed partner,” Romano continued, “I’m sure France would be more than happy too-”
“France always falls asleep before me, and he’s always so gropey.”
“…What exactly do you want me to do?”
“Just like, stay awake until I fall asleep…please?”
“What, you afraid of the dark or something?”
“Psh, of course not,” just the things that may or may not be lurking in it.
He drowned the last of his wine before replying, “Fine. My brother’s in with the potato-bastard tonight anyway, so the bed’s free.”
“Thank you!” he smiled at him before bouncing into the room and snuggling under the covers, “You coming?” America asked as Romano closed the door.
“Yeah, hold on,” the Italian set the wine glass down and took off his shirt.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting ready for bed,” Romano answered as he started fiddling with his belt.
“What are you going to sleep naked or something?” he chuckled nervously as he looked around for pajamas that the Italian would change into.
“You mean you aren’t?” he chucked the belt to the side and started fiddling with his pants.
“Wait wait! You can’t come in bed naked!”
“Why not? We’re not going to have sex or anything, so it’s fine.”
“So," America pondered, "if we were having sex, you being naked wouldn’t be fine?”
“Sh-shut up! The point is we’re not going to do anything but sleep, and I can’t sleep with clothes on, so what’s the problem!”
“But, it’s awkward to have you naked sleeping next to me if you’re not my lover…” America muttered, “Can’t you just keep your pants on until I fall asleep?”
Romano glared it him for about ten seconds, seeming to internally debate something with himself, before scoffing out a “Fine,” turning off the light, and crawling into the bed besides America.
“This is uncomfortable,” he barked out after about a minute, “are you asleep yet?”
“No,” the younger nation admitted as he rolled over and wrapped his arms around Romano.
“…This is not necessary.”
“It’ll help though,” America yawned as he pulled the Italian even closer, “Why don’t you tell me a story or something?”
“Once upon a time there was a stupid American who knew nothing about personal boundaries,” he began, “he ended up pissing off an already aggravated Italian. The next day he got hit by a bus and died. The end.”
“That was a lame story. And it needs a happy ending or I’m going to worry about it all night.”
"What are you talking about? That was a happy ending," America gave him a look that showed his disagreement, “Let me go and I’ll sing you a lullaby.”
“Really?” he immediately let go, “Go ahead; I’ve never heard you sing before.”
Romano coughed and sat up. He might have blushed too, but it was too dark to tell. He did feel a bit warmer though, “I can only sing in Italian though, so don’t bitch to me about not understanding anything.”
America nodded. He’d never tell the other nations because he liked listening to what they had to say when they didn’t want them to hear him, but because of his large immigrant population, he could pretty much understand just about all of their languages. Speaking them did give him a headache though, so he preferred speaking in English.
Romano cleared his throat again before singing, in a surprisingly soothing tone, considering it was Romano:
“Stella stellina
La notte si avvicina,
La fiamma traballa,
La mucca é nella stalla.
“Che, this is pointless…” he muttered.
“No s’not,” America grabbed him around the waist again and pulled him close. This time he just went with it, “keep goin’,” the American muttered, half awake.
Romano sighed, and pulled off the idiot’s glasses to place them on the nightstand before continuing:
“La pecora e l’agnello,
La vacca col vitello,
La chioccia coi pulcini,
La gatta coi gattini,
E tutti fan la nanna,
Nel cuore della mamma.”
When he was done, he glanced over to see that America was fast asleep, breathing deeply and clutching at him tightly. Romano managed to escape his grasp, climb out of bed, and finally shed himself of his pants and boxers before eyeing the couch with interest. A quick glance back to the bed showed that his new roommate had replaced him with a pillow, and he knew he’d suffer a similar fate if he tried the bed again, making the couch a very good option.
For some reason though, Romano decided to crawl back into the bed and once again be trapped in America’s warm embrace. He was tired, damnit, and this was his room anyway, so he should get the bed. It’s not like he enjoyed being cuddled by America, because he didn’t.
As for the American, his dreams were pleasantly zombie, ghost, monster and demon free. He should sleep with Romano more often.
A/N: The lullaby is called 'Stella Stellina,' or 'Star Little Star.' Have a link.
Translation:
Star, little star
The night is approaching:
the flame is tottering,
The cow is in the cowshed.
The sheep and the lamb,
The cow with the calf.
The hend with its chicks.
The cat with its kittens;
And all are sleeping in the mother's heart!