[fic] Tap It
Title: Tap It
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters/Pairing: USUK
Rating: G
Genre: Light hints of fluff
Word Count: 592
Warning: Does Obama being a bro count as a warning?
Notes: For usxuk's Summer Camp event! Day 11: Games
Summary: England catches America in quite the predicament. It will teach him a good lesson, anyway, right?
Other Links: FF.net (Will be posted later.)
☽✩☾
England walked into the office, papers under his arm, ready to begin the discussion. When he walked into the Oval Office, he might have expected America's boss to be sitting behind the desk, and perhaps the First Lady and their daughters. Diplomats, yes; America, yes.
America, alone, standing at the desk with his fist held in the air?
Not quite as much.
England cleared his throat. "America…?"
America snapped his head over to look at England, and England could have sworn he saw a few tears in his eyes. His fist still hadn't dropped, and there was a look of extreme gratefulness at England's arrival. Immediately, this put England on the defensive, and he stopped himself mid-stride to study America with a narrowed gaze.
"England!" His voice sounded far too relieved. "Thank God you're here! I need your help!"
"…What for…?" He contemplated turning and leaving. If America was insisting that he needed help, it was either cause for concern where England's armed forces were involved, or America had done something stupid.
Very stupid. Or, just completely silly and mundane that had been blown out of proportion.
America tried laughing it off, but there was something in how his tears shone that betrayed him. "Well, me and my boss were just hangin' out and talking, right? Well we got to talking about TV shows, and I was talkin' about one while he was talkin' about another. Eventually…."
England wasn't an avid TV watcher, but he had a feeling that he knew exactly where this was going. He sighed, shaking his head as he looked towards America's outstretched fist. "You were watching How I Met Your Mother again, weren't you?"
America grinned as innocently as he could. "Yep."
"The episode where Barney can't put his fist down?"
"That's the one! Help me out?"
"No."
"What?! Why!"
England shrugged, walking to the desk to set his papers down. "Because you're an idiot enough to put yourself in this situation. Who got you?"
America bowed his head, and England could see some of the tears finally fall from America's eyes. Red peeked through his fringe. Realization hit England, then, and he couldn't stop the smile that grew on his face as he began laughing. It was at first a quiet chuckle, which then grew into a rather uncontrolled riot of hilarity. (On England's end, anyway; America wasn't quite feeling it.)
"Ho-honestly?!" he laughed. "You let yourself get played by your boss?!"
"It's not my fault! I thought it was a serious brofist! We go to brofist each other, and then he's all, 'PSYCHE!' and now here I am!"
America went on ranting, and England let himself laugh at the other a small while longer. England approached him, fixing the front of his suit and straightening his tie. "You are positively ridiculous, America," he grinned. Then he made the unfortunate mistake of looking into America's eyes to find still unfallen tears resting on his bottom eyelids.
"If you loved me, you'd brofist me!"
England left a small kiss on America's cheek. "I do love you," he said. "So much, in fact, that I will sit through this small meeting, tortured by the fact that I know that I should not and cannot brofist you. This is a hard-learned lesson, America. One I feel you must take to heart."
"…You smiled as you said all of that."
England grinned at America, taking a seat as America's boss entered the room. It was going to be the most enjoyable meeting England had been to in over a century.
--
END
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters/Pairing: USUK
Rating: G
Genre: Light hints of fluff
Word Count: 592
Warning: Does Obama being a bro count as a warning?
Notes: For usxuk's Summer Camp event! Day 11: Games
Summary: England catches America in quite the predicament. It will teach him a good lesson, anyway, right?
Other Links: FF.net (Will be posted later.)
☽✩☾
England walked into the office, papers under his arm, ready to begin the discussion. When he walked into the Oval Office, he might have expected America's boss to be sitting behind the desk, and perhaps the First Lady and their daughters. Diplomats, yes; America, yes.
America, alone, standing at the desk with his fist held in the air?
Not quite as much.
England cleared his throat. "America…?"
America snapped his head over to look at England, and England could have sworn he saw a few tears in his eyes. His fist still hadn't dropped, and there was a look of extreme gratefulness at England's arrival. Immediately, this put England on the defensive, and he stopped himself mid-stride to study America with a narrowed gaze.
"England!" His voice sounded far too relieved. "Thank God you're here! I need your help!"
"…What for…?" He contemplated turning and leaving. If America was insisting that he needed help, it was either cause for concern where England's armed forces were involved, or America had done something stupid.
Very stupid. Or, just completely silly and mundane that had been blown out of proportion.
America tried laughing it off, but there was something in how his tears shone that betrayed him. "Well, me and my boss were just hangin' out and talking, right? Well we got to talking about TV shows, and I was talkin' about one while he was talkin' about another. Eventually…."
England wasn't an avid TV watcher, but he had a feeling that he knew exactly where this was going. He sighed, shaking his head as he looked towards America's outstretched fist. "You were watching How I Met Your Mother again, weren't you?"
America grinned as innocently as he could. "Yep."
"The episode where Barney can't put his fist down?"
"That's the one! Help me out?"
"No."
"What?! Why!"
England shrugged, walking to the desk to set his papers down. "Because you're an idiot enough to put yourself in this situation. Who got you?"
America bowed his head, and England could see some of the tears finally fall from America's eyes. Red peeked through his fringe. Realization hit England, then, and he couldn't stop the smile that grew on his face as he began laughing. It was at first a quiet chuckle, which then grew into a rather uncontrolled riot of hilarity. (On England's end, anyway; America wasn't quite feeling it.)
"Ho-honestly?!" he laughed. "You let yourself get played by your boss?!"
"It's not my fault! I thought it was a serious brofist! We go to brofist each other, and then he's all, 'PSYCHE!' and now here I am!"
America went on ranting, and England let himself laugh at the other a small while longer. England approached him, fixing the front of his suit and straightening his tie. "You are positively ridiculous, America," he grinned. Then he made the unfortunate mistake of looking into America's eyes to find still unfallen tears resting on his bottom eyelids.
"If you loved me, you'd brofist me!"
England left a small kiss on America's cheek. "I do love you," he said. "So much, in fact, that I will sit through this small meeting, tortured by the fact that I know that I should not and cannot brofist you. This is a hard-learned lesson, America. One I feel you must take to heart."
"…You smiled as you said all of that."
England grinned at America, taking a seat as America's boss entered the room. It was going to be the most enjoyable meeting England had been to in over a century.
--
END