[APH] Knowing You By Heart [USUK]
Title: Knowing You By Heart
Character(s)/Pairing(s): America and England; USUK
Rating: R
Warnings: Fluff, sex, and sap. In that order.
Summary: America demands England stay in bed with him all day.
Notes: Kink meme de-anon, and my first USUK in a loooooong time. LJ gave me quite a hassle trying to post this, so I hope it works this time. Also, LJ keeps screwing with my spacing. Freaking LJ.
~*~
England was awakened by an uppercut to the jaw. He opened his eyes wide, slapped his hand to his cheek and groaned, rolling over onto his pillow. Beside him, the person at fault was still fast asleep, his fist laying loosely along the goose down pillow, snoring into the morning air. England sat up and growled, shivering slightly from the cool breeze blowing across his bare torso.
“Good Lord, America,” England muttered, rubbing his cheek. He turned around in the bed to glare at the younger nation, but America was still dead to the world across his pillow.
England grumbled to himself and slid onto the cold wood floor, sliding into a pair of trousers and shucking into America’s over-sized, under-used robe. He pushed the bedroom door open and ambled down the hallway, through pools of early morning sunlight, into the kitchen to put on a kettle. He shuffled around a cupboard for the tea he stored in America’s house and pulled out two mugs-one with an American flag on it, the other with a copy of the WWII-era Keep Calm and Carry On emblazoned on it.
“...’land?” a mumbled call came from down the hallway. England rolled his eyes and waited for the water to boil. “Englaaaaaaand?”
“Hush, I’ll be there in a moment,” England called. There was a thwump and a groan and the kettle whistled. England placed two tea bags into his mug, poured the hot water in and turned on the coffee maker as he headed back to the bedroom. America was still lying in the bed, his arm over his eyes. England settled on the edge of the bed, turned to America.
“I’m back,” England said, and America used his free arm to pat the bed beside him. England rolled over to lie beside America, just bare inches from the other nation. America, still lying with the sheet pulled to his waist, rolled over to his side, cupped England’s cheeks in his hand and pressed his lips against the other man’s. England sighed and closed his eyes, parting his lips just slightly, bringing the kiss to another level of passion. America hummed and turned his head to taste more of England, his lips curling into a smile. England felt his spine tingle and his legs turn to mush from the tenderness of America’s lips on his own.
With great reluctance, England pulled away and used his thumb to brush over America’s lips. America lay with his head on the pillow, squinting slightly so he could see England without his glasses.
“Good morning, love,” England said. America’s smile widened.
“Mornin’.”
“I turned on the coffee maker.”
“I can smell it, thank you.”
“I also made some tea for myself. Speaking of which, it’s probably getting cold.” England made to move away from America and go back to the kitchen, but America placed a hand on his hip and rubbed small circles into his thigh.
“Stay,” America murmured. England snickered as America closed his eyes. The boy was falling back to sleep.
“I’ll be right back, your coffee is almost brewed,” England said as he moved. America tightened his grip and opened one eye.
“Not what I meant,” he mumbled. “Stay. Stay here. All day.” England raised an eyebrow.
“All day, you say?” he said, and lay against the pillow.
“Mmm,” America said, closing that one eye and snuggling down into the pillow. England reached out and ruffled America’s honey-blonde hair; it was fluffy beneath his fingers. England was technically supposed to head to Canada later in the day to tend to some business with his commonwealth.
“I need to go to Toronto,” England said. “I said I’d only be here for one day, America.”
“Don’t care,” America responded. He took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around the pillow.
“Staying the day won’t matter if you’re asleep,” England said. But he smiled regardless.
“I’ll wake up.”
“Uh-huh. I’m going to go fetch my tea.” America whined as England shifted from the bed and padded into the kitchen, pouring America’s coffee (milk and three sugars) and carrying both to the bedroom. He placed them on the side table and then opened the window across the room to let more of the morning air circulate. America was sitting up now, sipping from his coffee, knees bent with his hands in his lap. England took his mug and sipped delicately, savoring the taste of home.
They sat in silence, America harboring his coffee like rations and England once again mentally thanking himself that he brought all that tea along months ago.
“Awake yet?” England said finally, and he put the mug down and reached an arm around America, pulling his head into his shoulder. America drank the last of the coffee, plopped the mug down and curled into England’s arms.
“Mmhmm,” America answered, nuzzling into England’s neck. He wedged into the opening in the robe draped over England’s body and laid a kiss to his collarbone. England chuckled at the sensation and ran his hand through America’s hair and kissed the top of his lover’s head. America moved from his collarbone to his neck, sucking a little harder, using his teeth to nip at the tender flesh. England closed his eyes and buried his nose in that blonde hair, basking in America’s unique scent. Wheat fields, peppermint chocolate, coffee beans and saffron. An unusual mix, with a bit of papaya and pineapple from his shampoo.
England rolled his head so his cheek was against America’s hair, and his hands slid from the back of his head to his neck as America gravitated his lips up England’s chin.
“Mmm, easy, lad,” England said. “It’s early.”
“Mehh,” America said as he pulled away from England’s chin and kissed the side of his lips instead, roaming his hands down England’s sides. “Can’t help it. You’re just so gorgeous, babe.”
“Oh, goodness, you flatter me, Amer-ohh,” England moaned as America’s hand slipped beneath the lip of his unbuttoned trousers. England clenched his eyes shut and dug his nails into the back of America’s neck as the younger blonde tantalizingly roamed his fingertips along England’s inner thighs, all the while occupying England’s mouth.
“Stop that,” England muttered. America sat up higher, practically pulling England into his lap.
“Stop what?” America asked innocently as he engaged England’s lips once again.
“You’re- you’re teasing thing,” England said between kisses. He moaned deep in his throat as America did the same; the two collapsed into the mountain of pillows at the head of the bed. “And I said it’s early.”
“You know,” America said, moving his lips to England’s ear, “your cock doesn’t seem to agree.” America gave a gentle thrust of his pelvis into England’s hips to make his point, pressing against the elder’s swelling member.
“You’re so witty,” England said with a hint of sarcasm, smiling into America’s lips.
“It’s why you love me,” America responded, and he leaned in to kiss England once more, savoring the taste of his tea on his tongue. England pulled away and stroked the nape of America’s neck.
“Oh, I love you so, so much, my dear,” England said, “but if you’re just going to tease me and talk like this, I’m afraid this isn’t going to work out very well.” America gave England a sly grin and crashed his lips into England’s, clicking teeth together and sucking hungrily. America plunged his hand between England’s legs, giving his cock a squeeze, causing England to break away from America’s lips and groan into his ear instead. America gave a hearty laugh as he threaded his fingers through England’s hair, kissing the shell of his ear.
America gave another squeeze, reached over to the bedside table, grabbed the bottle of lube and coated his hands in the substance, reaching down again to more comfortably service his lover.
England tightened his calves around America’s waist and leaned his forehead onto America’s shoulder, breathing heavily and trying to control his hips from bucking too much into America’s grip. His stomach was filled with heat and his mouth went dry. Pure ecstasy replaced the blood in his veins as America’s hands tended to him, touched him, caressed him in a way that most other hands in his past had never done.
“ ‘Merica,” England murmured into his shoulder through weighted breaths, “ ‘Meri.” England detached one of his hands from the back of America’s neck and fumbled for the lube bottle, slicking up his hand and shifting beneath the cream-colored sheet to tend to America’s growing erection.
“England, what are you doing?” America said as he twitched at England’s hand. England snickered.
“I know how this works. You get me off and then it takes forever to get you off and the next thing you know it’s one in the afternoon and you want to go back to sleep,” England said as he began matching America’s rhythm. “This way we can get off at the same time, love.”
“Mm, okay,” America whispered and they kissed somewhat sideways, leaning back into the pillows, tangling their limbs together beneath the covers. America began losing control of his hips as England worked him, and England placed his free hand on America’s chest and shushed him with kisses.
“The faster you go, the faster it’s d-done,” England murmured into his lips. America breathed deeply through his nose and rolled his hips, curling his toes into the sheets.
“I-I know,” America whispered back. He opened his eyes to slits and bit his lower lip, staring at England’s clenched eyes and parted lips, trying to remain composed in the throes of passion. “You just-oh my God,” America gasped as England quickened the pace, applying more pressure, tightening his thighs along America’s waist.
“Love you,” England murmured through America’s salacious moans. England swallowed thickly and lost himself to sensation as he came, lips and nose pressed into America’s sweaty neck, breathing deeply and feeling warm and content. He worked America a bit more and as he whispered I love you so much it hurts my heart America came with a sigh and a slight giggle and curled into England’s arms.
“Ugh, sticky,” America said after a moment. England raised his eyebrows at him. “Just wipe it on the sheet; I was going to wash these anyway.”
“You’re so lazy, you won’t,” England said. “Besides, if we do that, we won’t be able to lie around all day, will we?” America thought for a moment, slid off the bed, walked to the closet, pulled out a pillowcase and threw it at England.
“There,” America said. He pulled the quilt England had made him for Christmas the previous year and walked back to the bed, stopping only to tug on a pair of boxers, and threw the quilt over them both. He then climbed back into bed, laying down on his pillow and watching as England folded up the now soiled pillow case and deposited it into the hamper beside the bed.
“So you actually want to lie here with me all day?” America asked. The sun, by now, had formed a series of squares over the bedspread from shining through the window panes. England shucked the robe onto the end of the bed and settled back against the headboard, closing his eyes. Now that he had released any residual tension he felt far more inclined to stay with America for the day. His head lolled to the side, facing his beau, and as he re-opened his eyes, he saw America watching him intently with those bright eyes of his. America burst into a small smile and reached out a hand to England, who took it and gave him a weary smile in return.
“We’re so damn sappy, England,” America said. “I almost want to barf from the two of us.”
“You and I both know you love it,” England responded.
“I can hardly believe you let me say those things, or that you say them back,” America said, shifting a tiny bit closer to where England sat. England sighed.
“I must admit, I do have a soft spot for shameless romance,” he said. “I suppose it comes from France.”
“You have a heart you old pirate,” America teased, and then he snickered to himself for his wit. England scoffed.
“You’re pathetic.” And England smiled again, brighter this time. America gave England a toothy grin.
“You’re smiling so much,” America said softly. England raised an eyebrow and sank into the pillows, pulling the quilt to his waist. His hip touched America’s and a spark raced through his spine.
“Yes, it’s such a shock, a sour old man like me,” England joked, but instead of laughing, America just watched him.
“I’m glad,” America said. “It’s the first time I’ve seen you smile in a long time.” He rubbed his thumb over England’s knuckles, just gently enough that it tickled. England’s smile faded and he knit his brow at America’s serious tone.
“I know you have a meeting with Canada,” America said. “And I know it’s important. And I know there’s a lot happening in the world.”
“America-“ England said but America cut him off. Those eyes were still staring straight into his own; blue and clear and bright and young.
“The riots, the economy, the strikes... I can see how it drags on you,” America said. England said nothing, simply opening his mouth and closing it again, at a loss for words. “I can see the toll it takes on your health. On your happiness. You’re people... everyone.” America breathed deeply through his nose. “Everyone hurts. So... please, just for one day, stay here with me and pretend the wounds don’t hurt as much.” England let out a shuddering breath, still unable to speak. His chest was filled and he felt as if he’d burst from America’s words. America continued to gently rub his fingers.
“We spend so much time apart now,” America admitted, and he reached up and dragged his fingertips along the line of England’s face, over his cheekbones, the bags under his eyes, his strong jaw and the blonde stubble growing in. The American flicked a piece of silver hair from his partner’s brow line and traced the crease of his eyes. England grabbed America’s wandering hand, and just stared at America.
“What are you doing?” England finally managed to mumble. America smiled, his cheeks turning pink in embarrassment.
“Learning you by heart,” America whispered. England kissed America’s palm, and America used that as an excuse to trace England’s lips and nose.
“...I’ll stay,” England said as he slid further down, now eye-level with America. “I’ll call Canada later and tell him I’ll be running late.”
“He’ll understand,” America said. England reached out and brushed a hair from America’s forehead.
“You could use some bed rest yourself,” England said as he tucked a stray lock behind America’s ear. “We’re both in a sorry state.”
“We were able to make love twice within eight hours,” America said, and England just shook his head as a smile crept across his face. “I think at the next World Summit we should propose a mandatory day-in-bed agreement, where everyone just lies around with the people they love, just for one day. My meeting with my boss and the Senate is going to go a thousand times better come Wednesday, just because you’re here,” America admitted. “Maybe we’ll even get something done.”
“I can’t perform miracles,” England said. America laughed and kissed England’s forehead.
“Hey, England?”
“Mmm?”
“...we’re going to be okay, right?” the question was whispered so quietly England wasn’t sure if he even heard correctly. America’s forehead was pressed flush against his own; England could feel America’s breath on his cheek.
“Yes,” England responded. He rubbed America’s cheek. “I don’t know how long it will take or what we’ll do, but there is light at the end of this tunnel.”
“That’s what I thought,” America said, and he closed his eyes and England closed his and they drifted off to sleep to the sound of America’s neighbor’s radio playing out the window into the summer sun.
Character(s)/Pairing(s): America and England; USUK
Rating: R
Warnings: Fluff, sex, and sap. In that order.
Summary: America demands England stay in bed with him all day.
Notes: Kink meme de-anon, and my first USUK in a loooooong time. LJ gave me quite a hassle trying to post this, so I hope it works this time. Also, LJ keeps screwing with my spacing. Freaking LJ.
~*~
England was awakened by an uppercut to the jaw. He opened his eyes wide, slapped his hand to his cheek and groaned, rolling over onto his pillow. Beside him, the person at fault was still fast asleep, his fist laying loosely along the goose down pillow, snoring into the morning air. England sat up and growled, shivering slightly from the cool breeze blowing across his bare torso.
“Good Lord, America,” England muttered, rubbing his cheek. He turned around in the bed to glare at the younger nation, but America was still dead to the world across his pillow.
England grumbled to himself and slid onto the cold wood floor, sliding into a pair of trousers and shucking into America’s over-sized, under-used robe. He pushed the bedroom door open and ambled down the hallway, through pools of early morning sunlight, into the kitchen to put on a kettle. He shuffled around a cupboard for the tea he stored in America’s house and pulled out two mugs-one with an American flag on it, the other with a copy of the WWII-era Keep Calm and Carry On emblazoned on it.
“...’land?” a mumbled call came from down the hallway. England rolled his eyes and waited for the water to boil. “Englaaaaaaand?”
“Hush, I’ll be there in a moment,” England called. There was a thwump and a groan and the kettle whistled. England placed two tea bags into his mug, poured the hot water in and turned on the coffee maker as he headed back to the bedroom. America was still lying in the bed, his arm over his eyes. England settled on the edge of the bed, turned to America.
“I’m back,” England said, and America used his free arm to pat the bed beside him. England rolled over to lie beside America, just bare inches from the other nation. America, still lying with the sheet pulled to his waist, rolled over to his side, cupped England’s cheeks in his hand and pressed his lips against the other man’s. England sighed and closed his eyes, parting his lips just slightly, bringing the kiss to another level of passion. America hummed and turned his head to taste more of England, his lips curling into a smile. England felt his spine tingle and his legs turn to mush from the tenderness of America’s lips on his own.
With great reluctance, England pulled away and used his thumb to brush over America’s lips. America lay with his head on the pillow, squinting slightly so he could see England without his glasses.
“Good morning, love,” England said. America’s smile widened.
“Mornin’.”
“I turned on the coffee maker.”
“I can smell it, thank you.”
“I also made some tea for myself. Speaking of which, it’s probably getting cold.” England made to move away from America and go back to the kitchen, but America placed a hand on his hip and rubbed small circles into his thigh.
“Stay,” America murmured. England snickered as America closed his eyes. The boy was falling back to sleep.
“I’ll be right back, your coffee is almost brewed,” England said as he moved. America tightened his grip and opened one eye.
“Not what I meant,” he mumbled. “Stay. Stay here. All day.” England raised an eyebrow.
“All day, you say?” he said, and lay against the pillow.
“Mmm,” America said, closing that one eye and snuggling down into the pillow. England reached out and ruffled America’s honey-blonde hair; it was fluffy beneath his fingers. England was technically supposed to head to Canada later in the day to tend to some business with his commonwealth.
“I need to go to Toronto,” England said. “I said I’d only be here for one day, America.”
“Don’t care,” America responded. He took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around the pillow.
“Staying the day won’t matter if you’re asleep,” England said. But he smiled regardless.
“I’ll wake up.”
“Uh-huh. I’m going to go fetch my tea.” America whined as England shifted from the bed and padded into the kitchen, pouring America’s coffee (milk and three sugars) and carrying both to the bedroom. He placed them on the side table and then opened the window across the room to let more of the morning air circulate. America was sitting up now, sipping from his coffee, knees bent with his hands in his lap. England took his mug and sipped delicately, savoring the taste of home.
They sat in silence, America harboring his coffee like rations and England once again mentally thanking himself that he brought all that tea along months ago.
“Awake yet?” England said finally, and he put the mug down and reached an arm around America, pulling his head into his shoulder. America drank the last of the coffee, plopped the mug down and curled into England’s arms.
“Mmhmm,” America answered, nuzzling into England’s neck. He wedged into the opening in the robe draped over England’s body and laid a kiss to his collarbone. England chuckled at the sensation and ran his hand through America’s hair and kissed the top of his lover’s head. America moved from his collarbone to his neck, sucking a little harder, using his teeth to nip at the tender flesh. England closed his eyes and buried his nose in that blonde hair, basking in America’s unique scent. Wheat fields, peppermint chocolate, coffee beans and saffron. An unusual mix, with a bit of papaya and pineapple from his shampoo.
England rolled his head so his cheek was against America’s hair, and his hands slid from the back of his head to his neck as America gravitated his lips up England’s chin.
“Mmm, easy, lad,” England said. “It’s early.”
“Mehh,” America said as he pulled away from England’s chin and kissed the side of his lips instead, roaming his hands down England’s sides. “Can’t help it. You’re just so gorgeous, babe.”
“Oh, goodness, you flatter me, Amer-ohh,” England moaned as America’s hand slipped beneath the lip of his unbuttoned trousers. England clenched his eyes shut and dug his nails into the back of America’s neck as the younger blonde tantalizingly roamed his fingertips along England’s inner thighs, all the while occupying England’s mouth.
“Stop that,” England muttered. America sat up higher, practically pulling England into his lap.
“Stop what?” America asked innocently as he engaged England’s lips once again.
“You’re- you’re teasing thing,” England said between kisses. He moaned deep in his throat as America did the same; the two collapsed into the mountain of pillows at the head of the bed. “And I said it’s early.”
“You know,” America said, moving his lips to England’s ear, “your cock doesn’t seem to agree.” America gave a gentle thrust of his pelvis into England’s hips to make his point, pressing against the elder’s swelling member.
“You’re so witty,” England said with a hint of sarcasm, smiling into America’s lips.
“It’s why you love me,” America responded, and he leaned in to kiss England once more, savoring the taste of his tea on his tongue. England pulled away and stroked the nape of America’s neck.
“Oh, I love you so, so much, my dear,” England said, “but if you’re just going to tease me and talk like this, I’m afraid this isn’t going to work out very well.” America gave England a sly grin and crashed his lips into England’s, clicking teeth together and sucking hungrily. America plunged his hand between England’s legs, giving his cock a squeeze, causing England to break away from America’s lips and groan into his ear instead. America gave a hearty laugh as he threaded his fingers through England’s hair, kissing the shell of his ear.
America gave another squeeze, reached over to the bedside table, grabbed the bottle of lube and coated his hands in the substance, reaching down again to more comfortably service his lover.
England tightened his calves around America’s waist and leaned his forehead onto America’s shoulder, breathing heavily and trying to control his hips from bucking too much into America’s grip. His stomach was filled with heat and his mouth went dry. Pure ecstasy replaced the blood in his veins as America’s hands tended to him, touched him, caressed him in a way that most other hands in his past had never done.
“ ‘Merica,” England murmured into his shoulder through weighted breaths, “ ‘Meri.” England detached one of his hands from the back of America’s neck and fumbled for the lube bottle, slicking up his hand and shifting beneath the cream-colored sheet to tend to America’s growing erection.
“England, what are you doing?” America said as he twitched at England’s hand. England snickered.
“I know how this works. You get me off and then it takes forever to get you off and the next thing you know it’s one in the afternoon and you want to go back to sleep,” England said as he began matching America’s rhythm. “This way we can get off at the same time, love.”
“Mm, okay,” America whispered and they kissed somewhat sideways, leaning back into the pillows, tangling their limbs together beneath the covers. America began losing control of his hips as England worked him, and England placed his free hand on America’s chest and shushed him with kisses.
“The faster you go, the faster it’s d-done,” England murmured into his lips. America breathed deeply through his nose and rolled his hips, curling his toes into the sheets.
“I-I know,” America whispered back. He opened his eyes to slits and bit his lower lip, staring at England’s clenched eyes and parted lips, trying to remain composed in the throes of passion. “You just-oh my God,” America gasped as England quickened the pace, applying more pressure, tightening his thighs along America’s waist.
“Love you,” England murmured through America’s salacious moans. England swallowed thickly and lost himself to sensation as he came, lips and nose pressed into America’s sweaty neck, breathing deeply and feeling warm and content. He worked America a bit more and as he whispered I love you so much it hurts my heart America came with a sigh and a slight giggle and curled into England’s arms.
“Ugh, sticky,” America said after a moment. England raised his eyebrows at him. “Just wipe it on the sheet; I was going to wash these anyway.”
“You’re so lazy, you won’t,” England said. “Besides, if we do that, we won’t be able to lie around all day, will we?” America thought for a moment, slid off the bed, walked to the closet, pulled out a pillowcase and threw it at England.
“There,” America said. He pulled the quilt England had made him for Christmas the previous year and walked back to the bed, stopping only to tug on a pair of boxers, and threw the quilt over them both. He then climbed back into bed, laying down on his pillow and watching as England folded up the now soiled pillow case and deposited it into the hamper beside the bed.
“So you actually want to lie here with me all day?” America asked. The sun, by now, had formed a series of squares over the bedspread from shining through the window panes. England shucked the robe onto the end of the bed and settled back against the headboard, closing his eyes. Now that he had released any residual tension he felt far more inclined to stay with America for the day. His head lolled to the side, facing his beau, and as he re-opened his eyes, he saw America watching him intently with those bright eyes of his. America burst into a small smile and reached out a hand to England, who took it and gave him a weary smile in return.
“We’re so damn sappy, England,” America said. “I almost want to barf from the two of us.”
“You and I both know you love it,” England responded.
“I can hardly believe you let me say those things, or that you say them back,” America said, shifting a tiny bit closer to where England sat. England sighed.
“I must admit, I do have a soft spot for shameless romance,” he said. “I suppose it comes from France.”
“You have a heart you old pirate,” America teased, and then he snickered to himself for his wit. England scoffed.
“You’re pathetic.” And England smiled again, brighter this time. America gave England a toothy grin.
“You’re smiling so much,” America said softly. England raised an eyebrow and sank into the pillows, pulling the quilt to his waist. His hip touched America’s and a spark raced through his spine.
“Yes, it’s such a shock, a sour old man like me,” England joked, but instead of laughing, America just watched him.
“I’m glad,” America said. “It’s the first time I’ve seen you smile in a long time.” He rubbed his thumb over England’s knuckles, just gently enough that it tickled. England’s smile faded and he knit his brow at America’s serious tone.
“I know you have a meeting with Canada,” America said. “And I know it’s important. And I know there’s a lot happening in the world.”
“America-“ England said but America cut him off. Those eyes were still staring straight into his own; blue and clear and bright and young.
“The riots, the economy, the strikes... I can see how it drags on you,” America said. England said nothing, simply opening his mouth and closing it again, at a loss for words. “I can see the toll it takes on your health. On your happiness. You’re people... everyone.” America breathed deeply through his nose. “Everyone hurts. So... please, just for one day, stay here with me and pretend the wounds don’t hurt as much.” England let out a shuddering breath, still unable to speak. His chest was filled and he felt as if he’d burst from America’s words. America continued to gently rub his fingers.
“We spend so much time apart now,” America admitted, and he reached up and dragged his fingertips along the line of England’s face, over his cheekbones, the bags under his eyes, his strong jaw and the blonde stubble growing in. The American flicked a piece of silver hair from his partner’s brow line and traced the crease of his eyes. England grabbed America’s wandering hand, and just stared at America.
“What are you doing?” England finally managed to mumble. America smiled, his cheeks turning pink in embarrassment.
“Learning you by heart,” America whispered. England kissed America’s palm, and America used that as an excuse to trace England’s lips and nose.
“...I’ll stay,” England said as he slid further down, now eye-level with America. “I’ll call Canada later and tell him I’ll be running late.”
“He’ll understand,” America said. England reached out and brushed a hair from America’s forehead.
“You could use some bed rest yourself,” England said as he tucked a stray lock behind America’s ear. “We’re both in a sorry state.”
“We were able to make love twice within eight hours,” America said, and England just shook his head as a smile crept across his face. “I think at the next World Summit we should propose a mandatory day-in-bed agreement, where everyone just lies around with the people they love, just for one day. My meeting with my boss and the Senate is going to go a thousand times better come Wednesday, just because you’re here,” America admitted. “Maybe we’ll even get something done.”
“I can’t perform miracles,” England said. America laughed and kissed England’s forehead.
“Hey, England?”
“Mmm?”
“...we’re going to be okay, right?” the question was whispered so quietly England wasn’t sure if he even heard correctly. America’s forehead was pressed flush against his own; England could feel America’s breath on his cheek.
“Yes,” England responded. He rubbed America’s cheek. “I don’t know how long it will take or what we’ll do, but there is light at the end of this tunnel.”
“That’s what I thought,” America said, and he closed his eyes and England closed his and they drifted off to sleep to the sound of America’s neighbor’s radio playing out the window into the summer sun.