[fic] Modern Shakespearean
Title: Modern Shakespearean
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters/Pairing: USUK
Rating: G
Genre: Fluff/Romance
Word Count: 566
Warning: --
Notes: For usxuk's Summer Camp event! Day 14: Theater Written really fast. BRB, HARRY POTTER.
Summary: Getting ready for the night's performance, America asks England to say "something awesome" in Shakespearean.
Other Links: FF.net (Will be posted later.)
☽✩☾
"So you're actually gonna play it?"
America sat in the living room in one of England's larger homes, drinking his Coke and watching on as the Briton fixed the clothing he'd donned.
"(Still isn't fitting quite the way I remember….) Yes, I am. Do you have a problem with it?"
America shrugged, eyeing England up and down several times and trying, very hard, not to snort, or laugh. Supposedly, England would be one of the performers for a quick show of Romeo & Juliet, playing the male half of the title role. America didn't have an issue with it at all; that wasn't the reason he had a look of slight disbelief on his face. It was just….
"You're gonna go out and let the public see you lookin' like that?"
"Is there an issue?"
"Well it's just … the tights."
England scowled, and somewhere deep inside America winced. "I will have you know, this was the height of fashion and nobility!" A point made only silly when England stood legs apart, his hands on his hips.
America finally let himself snicker. "Yeah, back half a millenia ago!" Trying not to let himself get carried away (made easy only by the somewhat disappointed-but-most-definitely-not-hurt expression on England's face), America suggested, "Why not do an updated version? Like what I did with Leonardo DiCaprio."
"Absolutely not! You only managed to scar the entire play with that monstrosity. And besides that, the first performance is tonight."
America grabbed his drink, sipping from it in order to think for a moment. "Mmm…" he began. "How many performances?"
"Three. Tonight, tomorrow, and the night after that. …You are coming, right?"
The question was sudden. On one hand, why wouldn't he? On the other, he wasn't the greatest fan of Shakespeare. (He didn't at all hate the playwright, of course. He just wasn't on America's Top Ten list of favorite authors.) He grinned, then, and smiled to England. Tights aside, America supposed he didn't look all that bad in his fancy clothes. The cape was rather dashing, anyway.
"Yeah, I'll go," he said. Sometimes the way England's eyes lit up was totally worth any kind of Old English torture. (Yeah, yeah, he knew it wasn't really ye olde Englische.) "But. You have to tell me something awesome in Shakespearean."
"Something awesome? Such as?"
"Iunno. Anything, really."
England was quiet for a moment, thinking. He hummed a few times. "It's been a long time since I've spoken anything like that at all naturally. It's going to sound silly."
"I won't know! Just make it sound fancy!"
"I suppose not; all right." England stepped forward, and rested his hands on either side of America's face before running them gently through America's hair. It was rather relaxing, really, and it was a good thing it was. When England went to speak, America could feel his face go red, holding England close.
"O but for what my soul be bound, the most glorious of all things; for what my heart be tied, the most glorious of all things. What is it? Hidden often away, seeking to match its cool hues; its deeper shades. For what my soul and my heart be bound teases me, leaving me its willing slave."
England paused, then grinned. America blinked up, knowing that trying to hide his pink face was useless.
"For it is love, and I know it through you."
--
END
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters/Pairing: USUK
Rating: G
Genre: Fluff/Romance
Word Count: 566
Warning: --
Notes: For usxuk's Summer Camp event! Day 14: Theater Written really fast. BRB, HARRY POTTER.
Summary: Getting ready for the night's performance, America asks England to say "something awesome" in Shakespearean.
Other Links: FF.net (Will be posted later.)
☽✩☾
"So you're actually gonna play it?"
America sat in the living room in one of England's larger homes, drinking his Coke and watching on as the Briton fixed the clothing he'd donned.
"(Still isn't fitting quite the way I remember….) Yes, I am. Do you have a problem with it?"
America shrugged, eyeing England up and down several times and trying, very hard, not to snort, or laugh. Supposedly, England would be one of the performers for a quick show of Romeo & Juliet, playing the male half of the title role. America didn't have an issue with it at all; that wasn't the reason he had a look of slight disbelief on his face. It was just….
"You're gonna go out and let the public see you lookin' like that?"
"Is there an issue?"
"Well it's just … the tights."
England scowled, and somewhere deep inside America winced. "I will have you know, this was the height of fashion and nobility!" A point made only silly when England stood legs apart, his hands on his hips.
America finally let himself snicker. "Yeah, back half a millenia ago!" Trying not to let himself get carried away (made easy only by the somewhat disappointed-but-most-definitely-not-hurt expression on England's face), America suggested, "Why not do an updated version? Like what I did with Leonardo DiCaprio."
"Absolutely not! You only managed to scar the entire play with that monstrosity. And besides that, the first performance is tonight."
America grabbed his drink, sipping from it in order to think for a moment. "Mmm…" he began. "How many performances?"
"Three. Tonight, tomorrow, and the night after that. …You are coming, right?"
The question was sudden. On one hand, why wouldn't he? On the other, he wasn't the greatest fan of Shakespeare. (He didn't at all hate the playwright, of course. He just wasn't on America's Top Ten list of favorite authors.) He grinned, then, and smiled to England. Tights aside, America supposed he didn't look all that bad in his fancy clothes. The cape was rather dashing, anyway.
"Yeah, I'll go," he said. Sometimes the way England's eyes lit up was totally worth any kind of Old English torture. (Yeah, yeah, he knew it wasn't really ye olde Englische.) "But. You have to tell me something awesome in Shakespearean."
"Something awesome? Such as?"
"Iunno. Anything, really."
England was quiet for a moment, thinking. He hummed a few times. "It's been a long time since I've spoken anything like that at all naturally. It's going to sound silly."
"I won't know! Just make it sound fancy!"
"I suppose not; all right." England stepped forward, and rested his hands on either side of America's face before running them gently through America's hair. It was rather relaxing, really, and it was a good thing it was. When England went to speak, America could feel his face go red, holding England close.
"O but for what my soul be bound, the most glorious of all things; for what my heart be tied, the most glorious of all things. What is it? Hidden often away, seeking to match its cool hues; its deeper shades. For what my soul and my heart be bound teases me, leaving me its willing slave."
England paused, then grinned. America blinked up, knowing that trying to hide his pink face was useless.
"For it is love, and I know it through you."
--
END