The Merits of Getting Caught Out in the Rain, USUK (2/3)
anonymous
September 23 2011, 20:16:22 UTC
America pulled up to the curb in front of England in his flashy red, white, and blue sports car not ten minutes later. England hurried over to the towel-lined passenger’s seat as quickly as his numb legs would take him, shivering uncontrollably from head to toe. He sighed aloud with relief when America leaned across the center console to open the door for him and a blast of warm air from the heaters spilled out to greet him.
“Holy crap, you really are soaked, huh?” America marveled as England dropped into the seat and hurriedly slammed the door shut against the chill. “You’ve gotta be freezing your ass off! Here, take this.”
He passed England another towel, which he helped him wrap around his shoulders. England continued to shiver, his fingers so numb with cold that he hardly felt them brush America’s as the two of them fumbled with the towel.
“And this,” America added, grabbing a large fleecy blue blanket from the back seat and draping it over him.
“Th-thank you,” England mumbled, his already chill-flushed cheeks reddening even further at America’s thoughtfulness.
“Any time, dude,” America said with the same smile that England had recalled in order to keep himself warm.
England nuzzled his face into the blanket, trying to hide his steadily rising blush. It wasn’t a blush, though; he was just getting used to this drastic temperature change.
“So, uh… things are pretty boring over at my house right now, so I was just thinking about asking you over to sit in front of the fireplace and have some hot chocolate anyway…” America glanced over at his passenger nervously. “H-how ‘bout it?”
England sniffled again and rubbed his nose. “To be honest, a fireplace and hot cocoa sound wonderful right now.”
“Awesome!” America grinned, looking relieved. “My place it is, then!” He pulled away from the curb and began heading in the direction of his house.
England clutched at the blanket and tried to will away the smile that was threatening to overcome him. He was only happy because of the prospect of warmth and free hot chocolate, but he didn’t need America getting the wrong idea. He chanced a glance at America, who was humming along softly with the pop song that played quietly on his radio, and found that he wasn’t bothering to restrain his own smile.
The two of them drove in near silence for a few blocks, the quiet broken only by the steady drumming of the rain, the purr of America’s engine, and his absentminded humming along with the radio. England could feel his nose starting to itch and reached hurriedly into his pocket for his rain-dampened handkerchief. He held the embroidered cloth over his nose and mouth, trying to stifle the tickle, not wanting to break the peace between them so inelegantly. To England’s chagrin, the sneeze slipped out anyway, and it brought friends.
“Choo! …Ah…choo! Atchoo!”
America glanced over in his direction and chuckled quietly as England blew his nose. In the brief haze the sneezes left behind in his head, it took him a moment to realize that America was laughing at him.
“Wh-what’s so funny?” England asked irritably, his cheeks still pinked.
“I never really thought about it before, but you’ve got a really cute sneeze,” America commented with a goofy grin. “It’s all quiet and polite, just like you pretend to be!”
“Who’s pretending?!” England snapped, blushing even more prominently at the strange compliment. “I just don’t bother wasting politeness on prats like you who won’t appreci…”
America looked over at him once more when he suddenly trailed off in the middle of his word. His grin widened when he saw England’s head fall back slightly, lids lowering gradually over watery eyes, lips parting slowly in preparation. “Ah… choo!”
America was laughing again, but England could feel another series of sneezes creeping up on him and hardly noticed. They slipped out one after the other, soft and whispery and muffled by the handkerchief. America’s heart fluttered with each one, his cheeks pinking slightly, though he was nowhere near as red as England once he had finished.
“Seriously man, adorable,” America teased gently, though he honestly found them endearing.
The Merits of Getting Caught Out in the Rain, USUK (3/3)
anonymous
September 23 2011, 20:18:05 UTC
England blushed to the tips of his ears as he rubbed his nose. “Why do you have choose such a trivial and embarrassing thing to compliment?”
To the Englishman’s surprise, America’s only reply to that was silence. England peered cautiously in his direction, and was astonished to find that though America’s gaze was fixed determinedly on the road before them, the previous light kiss of rosy pink in his cheeks had deepened, and he was biting his lower lip as if trying to make a difficult decision.
“…Do you want me to tell you the other things about you that I think are cute?” he asked eventually.
England was so shocked by this reply that he gave up on pretending that he wasn’t watching him and stared openly. “Th-there’s more…?” he asked hesitantly, trying not to sound hopeful (because he wasn’t. Honest!).
“Well… y-yeah,” America admitted. “There’re, um… actually quite a few things.”
It was as if England had fallen into some kind of surreal parallel universe where everything was backwards. This couldn’t really be happening. This man, the dense, obnoxious, beautiful, wonderful man, whom England had been trying to convince himself for years didn’t occupy his head as much as he really did, couldn’t be saying such things about him.
It’s a dream, England told himself. I’ll pinch myself and wake up in bed at my hotel. England pinched his thigh hard under the blanket and had to bite his lip to prevent himself from gasping in pain. This was really happening.
“Do… you wanna know…?” America asked uncertainly, still not looking at him as they pulled into his driveway.
America put his car in park and killed the engine before meeting England’s eyes at last. The look in his eyes was so vulnerable that it England’s heart was overwhelmed by the steadily growing bubble of joyful warmth. His gaze fell to the hand that America had just placed hopefully in the space between them.
He placed his own down beside it, just close enough that their fingertips could brush, testing the waters, wanting to make absolutely certain that he wasn’t going to find out that he was misinterpreting the situation. America moved his hand closer, slipping his fingers into the gaps between England’s in confirmation of England’s suspicions.
England’s breath caught in his chest. America was leaning closer over the center console and England felt absolutely no desire to stop him. And as their lips met at last, England was glad for the first time that day that he had gotten stuck out in the rain.
Re: The Merits of Getting Caught Out in the Rain, USUK (3/3)
anonymous
September 25 2011, 11:39:10 UTC
This is the previously intrested anon. God I loved this! Its so cute and differnt from the idea I have that I am writing up. America being all blushy and sweet saying that the sneeze is cute.
To OP, I am working on this fill still and hopefully it will get finsihed sometime soon. I'm sure you wont mind another fill!
“Holy crap, you really are soaked, huh?” America marveled as England dropped into the seat and hurriedly slammed the door shut against the chill. “You’ve gotta be freezing your ass off! Here, take this.”
He passed England another towel, which he helped him wrap around his shoulders. England continued to shiver, his fingers so numb with cold that he hardly felt them brush America’s as the two of them fumbled with the towel.
“And this,” America added, grabbing a large fleecy blue blanket from the back seat and draping it over him.
“Th-thank you,” England mumbled, his already chill-flushed cheeks reddening even further at America’s thoughtfulness.
“Any time, dude,” America said with the same smile that England had recalled in order to keep himself warm.
England nuzzled his face into the blanket, trying to hide his steadily rising blush. It wasn’t a blush, though; he was just getting used to this drastic temperature change.
“So, uh… things are pretty boring over at my house right now, so I was just thinking about asking you over to sit in front of the fireplace and have some hot chocolate anyway…” America glanced over at his passenger nervously. “H-how ‘bout it?”
England sniffled again and rubbed his nose. “To be honest, a fireplace and hot cocoa sound wonderful right now.”
“Awesome!” America grinned, looking relieved. “My place it is, then!”
He pulled away from the curb and began heading in the direction of his house.
England clutched at the blanket and tried to will away the smile that was threatening to overcome him. He was only happy because of the prospect of warmth and free hot chocolate, but he didn’t need America getting the wrong idea. He chanced a glance at America, who was humming along softly with the pop song that played quietly on his radio, and found that he wasn’t bothering to restrain his own smile.
The two of them drove in near silence for a few blocks, the quiet broken only by the steady drumming of the rain, the purr of America’s engine, and his absentminded humming along with the radio. England could feel his nose starting to itch and reached hurriedly into his pocket for his rain-dampened handkerchief. He held the embroidered cloth over his nose and mouth, trying to stifle the tickle, not wanting to break the peace between them so inelegantly. To England’s chagrin, the sneeze slipped out anyway, and it brought friends.
“Choo! …Ah…choo! Atchoo!”
America glanced over in his direction and chuckled quietly as England blew his nose. In the brief haze the sneezes left behind in his head, it took him a moment to realize that America was laughing at him.
“Wh-what’s so funny?” England asked irritably, his cheeks still pinked.
“I never really thought about it before, but you’ve got a really cute sneeze,” America commented with a goofy grin. “It’s all quiet and polite, just like you pretend to be!”
“Who’s pretending?!” England snapped, blushing even more prominently at the strange compliment. “I just don’t bother wasting politeness on prats like you who won’t appreci…”
America looked over at him once more when he suddenly trailed off in the middle of his word. His grin widened when he saw England’s head fall back slightly, lids lowering gradually over watery eyes, lips parting slowly in preparation. “Ah… choo!”
America was laughing again, but England could feel another series of sneezes creeping up on him and hardly noticed. They slipped out one after the other, soft and whispery and muffled by the handkerchief. America’s heart fluttered with each one, his cheeks pinking slightly, though he was nowhere near as red as England once he had finished.
“Seriously man, adorable,” America teased gently, though he honestly found them endearing.
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To the Englishman’s surprise, America’s only reply to that was silence. England peered cautiously in his direction, and was astonished to find that though America’s gaze was fixed determinedly on the road before them, the previous light kiss of rosy pink in his cheeks had deepened, and he was biting his lower lip as if trying to make a difficult decision.
“…Do you want me to tell you the other things about you that I think are cute?” he asked eventually.
England was so shocked by this reply that he gave up on pretending that he wasn’t watching him and stared openly. “Th-there’s more…?” he asked hesitantly, trying not to sound hopeful (because he wasn’t. Honest!).
“Well… y-yeah,” America admitted. “There’re, um… actually quite a few things.”
It was as if England had fallen into some kind of surreal parallel universe where everything was backwards. This couldn’t really be happening. This man, the dense, obnoxious, beautiful, wonderful man, whom England had been trying to convince himself for years didn’t occupy his head as much as he really did, couldn’t be saying such things about him.
It’s a dream, England told himself. I’ll pinch myself and wake up in bed at my hotel. England pinched his thigh hard under the blanket and had to bite his lip to prevent himself from gasping in pain. This was really happening.
“Do… you wanna know…?” America asked uncertainly, still not looking at him as they pulled into his driveway.
America put his car in park and killed the engine before meeting England’s eyes at last. The look in his eyes was so vulnerable that it England’s heart was overwhelmed by the steadily growing bubble of joyful warmth. His gaze fell to the hand that America had just placed hopefully in the space between them.
He placed his own down beside it, just close enough that their fingertips could brush, testing the waters, wanting to make absolutely certain that he wasn’t going to find out that he was misinterpreting the situation. America moved his hand closer, slipping his fingers into the gaps between England’s in confirmation of England’s suspicions.
England’s breath caught in his chest. America was leaning closer over the center console and England felt absolutely no desire to stop him. And as their lips met at last, England was glad for the first time that day that he had gotten stuck out in the rain.
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Very cute.
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I loved this so much. <3 Like, you have no idea. The warm fuzzies just about killed me.
Oh my God, I can't think of anything coherent to say, so just let me spam hearts at you: <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR FILLING THIS! It was fantastic! *still dying of cuteness*
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God I loved this! Its so cute and differnt from the idea I have that I am writing up. America being all blushy and sweet saying that the sneeze is cute.
To OP, I am working on this fill still and hopefully it will get finsihed sometime soon. I'm sure you wont mind another fill!
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