[Fic] Summer Camp: Come Fly With Me
Title: Come Fly With Me
Characters/Pairings: USUK
Rating/Warnings: PG. Singing and songs.
Summary: America wants to take England on a vacation, but all England wants to do is work. Perhaps serenading him will help.
A/N: The song used is "Come Fly With Me" as sung by Frank Sinatra.
“England, come on, please?”
England really did not have time for America’s pleading right now. He was way behind on his work, and getting behind more and more each day.
“I took this week off just to spend time with you and you’re just working!”
Of course England would have liked a vacation, but he just didn’t have enough time for that right now. He would have loved to just drop everything and run away with America for the week, but he was a gentleman, and gentlemen don’t just put off their work because they feel like it.
“Please, England. For me?”
And England almost made the mistake of looking up into those too blue puppy dog eyes that would have caused him to cave instantly to any command America made. But not this time America, not this time.
“I’ve already gave you my answer America. I have a lot of work to do this week.”
“…Nothing I say is going to convince you to take a break and come with me, is it?”
Was he finally starting to get it? “Yes.”
“Even though everyone can see you totally need it?”
“I don’t need it.”
“Alright, I get it,” America sighed.
England heard shuffling and he looked up just in time to see America leave his office.
Which was exactly what he wanted, of course. Yes, a trip in a hot air balloon to some Caribbean island for a week alone with America - or whatever he was going on about; he wasn’t paying attention in the slightest - seemed like a good idea, but England really needed to get some work done. So the fact that America had actually listened to him and left him alone didn’t disappoint him in the slightest.
The door burst open again and America entered, having changed into a suit, complete with tie, and a fedora. His jacket was off and slung over his shoulder, the fedora tilted just enough to be considered charming.
“…America what are you doing?”
“Since nothing I say is going to convince you to come with me, I’ll just serenade you into coming with me.”
England blinked, “What?”
“Hit it!” Trumpets started blaring from somewhere, taking England off guard.
“America just what are you-”
“Come fly with me, let’s fly, let’s fly away.”
Oh god, he was really serenading him. England would never admit it out loud, or in his head, for that matter, but when America actually tried, his singing voice did funny things to England’s psyche.
“If you can use, some exotic booze,” America pulled out a bottle of something that smelled absolutely heavenly when he placed it on his desk, “There’s a bar in far Bombay.”
He was on the other side of the desk, extending his hand, “Come on fly with me, let’s fly, let’s fly away.”
England hesitantly reached out for the hand to be rewarded with being yanked out of his chair and into America’s arms as he tossed his jacket on the chair and spun them around the office.
“Come fly with me, let’s float down to Peru.”
“I think we’d have to call first,” England commented as the spinning stopped, “It would be rude to just drop in on him.
America smirked before lowering him into a dip without warning, forcing England to grab his shoulders for support, “In llama land, there’s a one man band, and he’ll toot his flute for you.”
“That better not mean what I think it means…”
The smirk grew, “Come on fly with me, we’ll take off, in the blue.”
“As tempting as your offer is,” England tried to get out of his hold, “I’m going to have to decline, again-”
But America wasn’t done. He spun England again before singing, “Once I get you up there, where the air is, rarified-”
“Do you even know what that means?”
“We’ll just glide,” he spun England back to his chest and slid an arm around his waist, “Starry-eyed.”
America took England’s hand in his free one, “Once I get you up there, I’ll be holding you, so near,” and he held him closer for emphasis, “You may hear, all the angels cheer ‘cause we’re together.
“Weather-wise it’s such a lovely day.”
“It’s raining,” England pointed out, and indeed, the rain was pelting on the window.
“Just say the words,” America continued, leading the two of them in a little dance, “and we’ll beat those birds down to Ac apulco Bay.”
America spun England back out, only to pull him back in again so he was right against his chest, “It’s perfect for a flying honeymoon they did say.”
“Who says?” England glared, “Have you been talking to France about us again?”
America rolled his eyes and kissed him on the forehead, “Come fly with me, let’s fly, let’s fly away!”
“You’re not going to stop until I give in, aren’t you?” England asked as the trumpets from nowhere went off on an instrumental part.
“I’ve still got two more verses,” America winked at him, “So what do you say England? You, me, a hot air balloon, and a private island for the whole week. We both know you need to relax and soon before you snap.”
“Hm,” England pretended to think about it for a moment, watching America squirm. Honestly, he’d been sold on the idea the moment he had started singing, “Tempting offer,” he reached up and took the fedora off of America’s head, placing it on his own, “Keep the suit on for the whole time and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
America cheered, pulling him into a kiss as the trumpets from nowhere took the cue and stopped playing. He grabbed his hand and started pulling England out the door and into his backyard where he had landed the hot air balloon.
“C’mon England,” he shouted as he jumped into the basket, put on his trademark bomber jacket - over the suit, of course - along with a scarf and a pair of goggles before offering his hand to England again, “Let’s fly!”
And England saw no reason to refuse him.
Characters/Pairings: USUK
Rating/Warnings: PG. Singing and songs.
Summary: America wants to take England on a vacation, but all England wants to do is work. Perhaps serenading him will help.
A/N: The song used is "Come Fly With Me" as sung by Frank Sinatra.
“England, come on, please?”
England really did not have time for America’s pleading right now. He was way behind on his work, and getting behind more and more each day.
“I took this week off just to spend time with you and you’re just working!”
Of course England would have liked a vacation, but he just didn’t have enough time for that right now. He would have loved to just drop everything and run away with America for the week, but he was a gentleman, and gentlemen don’t just put off their work because they feel like it.
“Please, England. For me?”
And England almost made the mistake of looking up into those too blue puppy dog eyes that would have caused him to cave instantly to any command America made. But not this time America, not this time.
“I’ve already gave you my answer America. I have a lot of work to do this week.”
“…Nothing I say is going to convince you to take a break and come with me, is it?”
Was he finally starting to get it? “Yes.”
“Even though everyone can see you totally need it?”
“I don’t need it.”
“Alright, I get it,” America sighed.
England heard shuffling and he looked up just in time to see America leave his office.
Which was exactly what he wanted, of course. Yes, a trip in a hot air balloon to some Caribbean island for a week alone with America - or whatever he was going on about; he wasn’t paying attention in the slightest - seemed like a good idea, but England really needed to get some work done. So the fact that America had actually listened to him and left him alone didn’t disappoint him in the slightest.
The door burst open again and America entered, having changed into a suit, complete with tie, and a fedora. His jacket was off and slung over his shoulder, the fedora tilted just enough to be considered charming.
“…America what are you doing?”
“Since nothing I say is going to convince you to come with me, I’ll just serenade you into coming with me.”
England blinked, “What?”
“Hit it!” Trumpets started blaring from somewhere, taking England off guard.
“America just what are you-”
“Come fly with me, let’s fly, let’s fly away.”
Oh god, he was really serenading him. England would never admit it out loud, or in his head, for that matter, but when America actually tried, his singing voice did funny things to England’s psyche.
“If you can use, some exotic booze,” America pulled out a bottle of something that smelled absolutely heavenly when he placed it on his desk, “There’s a bar in far Bombay.”
He was on the other side of the desk, extending his hand, “Come on fly with me, let’s fly, let’s fly away.”
England hesitantly reached out for the hand to be rewarded with being yanked out of his chair and into America’s arms as he tossed his jacket on the chair and spun them around the office.
“Come fly with me, let’s float down to Peru.”
“I think we’d have to call first,” England commented as the spinning stopped, “It would be rude to just drop in on him.
America smirked before lowering him into a dip without warning, forcing England to grab his shoulders for support, “In llama land, there’s a one man band, and he’ll toot his flute for you.”
“That better not mean what I think it means…”
The smirk grew, “Come on fly with me, we’ll take off, in the blue.”
“As tempting as your offer is,” England tried to get out of his hold, “I’m going to have to decline, again-”
But America wasn’t done. He spun England again before singing, “Once I get you up there, where the air is, rarified-”
“Do you even know what that means?”
“We’ll just glide,” he spun England back to his chest and slid an arm around his waist, “Starry-eyed.”
America took England’s hand in his free one, “Once I get you up there, I’ll be holding you, so near,” and he held him closer for emphasis, “You may hear, all the angels cheer ‘cause we’re together.
“Weather-wise it’s such a lovely day.”
“It’s raining,” England pointed out, and indeed, the rain was pelting on the window.
“Just say the words,” America continued, leading the two of them in a little dance, “and we’ll beat those birds down to Ac apulco Bay.”
America spun England back out, only to pull him back in again so he was right against his chest, “It’s perfect for a flying honeymoon they did say.”
“Who says?” England glared, “Have you been talking to France about us again?”
America rolled his eyes and kissed him on the forehead, “Come fly with me, let’s fly, let’s fly away!”
“You’re not going to stop until I give in, aren’t you?” England asked as the trumpets from nowhere went off on an instrumental part.
“I’ve still got two more verses,” America winked at him, “So what do you say England? You, me, a hot air balloon, and a private island for the whole week. We both know you need to relax and soon before you snap.”
“Hm,” England pretended to think about it for a moment, watching America squirm. Honestly, he’d been sold on the idea the moment he had started singing, “Tempting offer,” he reached up and took the fedora off of America’s head, placing it on his own, “Keep the suit on for the whole time and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
America cheered, pulling him into a kiss as the trumpets from nowhere took the cue and stopped playing. He grabbed his hand and started pulling England out the door and into his backyard where he had landed the hot air balloon.
“C’mon England,” he shouted as he jumped into the basket, put on his trademark bomber jacket - over the suit, of course - along with a scarf and a pair of goggles before offering his hand to England again, “Let’s fly!”
And England saw no reason to refuse him.