[Hetalia] "My Confession" - Collection of Ficlets for USUK
These ficlets are prompted by quotes from the song "My Confession" by Josh Groban.
******
Title: "My Confession" Part 1/2
Author: shuriken7
Claim: America
Prompt: 21. Friend, 8. Proof, 28. Truth, 10. Soul, 26. Glass, 30. Sugar @ 50ficlets, 81. How?, 22. Enemies, 9. Months, 82. If, 41. Shapes, 5. Outsides @ fanfic100
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Rating: PG to PG-13
Word Count: 2,127 for part 1
Summary: England reflects on his relationship with America throughout the years, wondering why it took him so long to say the words...
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
******
Friend
I have been blind, unwilling to see
The true love you’re giving
The morning was brisk, cool air blowing beneath the door frame. He would have to remind America to fix it before winter, when the draft would make the entire house freezing regardless of how many braziers were put up. He stirred the porridge that the boy had made, no that wasn’t right, America looked like a young man now.
How could he have forgotten? He had suffered quite the shock that morning to have a large boy that looked 16 barrel into him, forgetting for a moment who he was. He had expected the small boy he had left. He came back from the Seven Years War to find him a man, not so much a little brother anymore. America was beginning to feel like more of a peer or a friend, and England was not sure how he felt about that fact.
What was the flutter he felt in his stomach as America would hug him or snuggle up to him like he used to? Why did he suddenly notice every little thing the growing colony would do? Perhaps it would be best to just ignore it, he thought, it would be far simpler.
******
Proof
I have ignored every blessing
I’m on my knees, confessing
It had hurt enough the first time, the pain of watching America turn his back on him and walk away. Sometimes he felt as though the chill of that rain never left his bones, bringing him torment on the dark, lonely nights. He could always see that pitying gaze, staring at him through the rain, telling him he was not what he once was.
Then, the fool had to make an enemy of him again. He chose to press the matter of impressment of American sailors and declared war on him. Many battles and skirmishes had been fought, and just when he thought he had the cocky child, he would find himself facing cannon fire and being routed back to where he came from.
He had felt enjoyment as he watched the boy’s capital burn, he wanted proof of their enmity, that all feelings that he had for the other were extinguished. Yet, he felt something else stir. He felt all the emotions that he had tried to suppress from the time of the Revolution well up inside him. He dropped to his knees in the ashes of the White House and wept. Why did he not listen to him fifty years ago when he had the chance? Why did he not acknowledge his feelings before?
“Damn it, I love him.” he said to muddy, ash strewn ground, just as the wind began to blow bringing a storm that fit his mood perfectly.
******
Truth
...I feel myself surrender
Each time I see your face
It had been many months since the last time they had seen each other, and that last time had merely been a glance. America was very busy on his quest for Manifest Destiny, his people spreading out across the continent, finding resources and landscapes that no one knew existed. England’s own people were bringing back stories of fantastic landscapes where water boiled in lakes that were every color of the rainbow and of a large mountain range that rose out of the grassy plains.
It all sounded so wonderful and England absorbed himself in reading what news he could about the nation across the Atlantic. It was in a trade meeting that he saw him again. Just like in the years when he was a colony, he shot up like a weed. This current expansion was definitely having an effect on him. He had filled out, becoming a lot bulkier than the slim teenager he had been. England was a little jealous of how tall the other had become.
He spent most of the meeting watching the other, they saw each other occasionally, but had not spoken in years. England liked to pretend it was due to missed opportunities, but he knew the truth. He was avoiding the other nation. He was avoiding the feelings that were growing stronger. Every time he saw America, he wanted to be able to say something, but would not allow himself.
England looked away for a brief moment to acknowledge what the presenter had to say and when he flicked his eyes back he froze. Bright, blue eyes were looking back at him for the briefest of moments and his stomach did flip flops, and to cover up the feeling he glared, causing America to look away.
******
Soul
I am staggered by your beauty
He had to admit he was floored when America gave his presentation on this idea he was working on. It was a simple idea, something that he would take to heart as the world was beginning to shift into full on industrialism and technology. America stood and talked about how land was so valuable and important. He spoke from his soul, although it was obvious he was torn over the paradox between preservation and progress. He had brought paintings of the landscapes of his nation, places that his people were working to preserve so that anyone could see them, today and in the future.
Many of England’s people had already flocked to these wonderlands that America had within his borders, especially as they became more accessible by train and other means of transportation. This announcement was actually a peaceful break from all of the war that was stirring in Europe. His boss had needed to practically drag him away from the trenches, telling him he needed to rest so his people would have the spirit to continue. England wanted to transport himself into one of those paintings, into the primeval world of the North American continent’s wilderness. How did that American say it? “To have the cares drop off like falling leaves...”
He sighed, if only if he could reach out for the American standing in front of him, currently untouched by this war, shining with the excitement and the prospect of the future. If only he wasn’t afraid that he would tarnish that light, too afraid to be part of any reason that would make that bright smile falter.
*******
Glass
And I feel my heart is turning
Falling into place
“America.”
The individual in question turned to look at him and England paused. The scene almost seemed to be out of one of those films America was so fond of making these days. They were standing in an old church that they had been touring through together. Behind the younger nation was a brilliant stained glass window. The different shapes and colors coming together to build a beautiful backdrop to the person in front of it. England felt his breath catch in his throat, it was a stunning scene.
His mind wandered, he knew he should say something, give voice to what he wanted. Or if he couldn’t do that, just grab the git and snog the living daylights out of him. Instead, everything he wanted to say escaped his tongue when America’s eyes met his, a questioning look on his face.
“What?” He tilted his head, curious as to what the Englishman wanted.
England shook his head, “Never mind.” He wasn’t ready to tell him that his heart sped up every time he was around him. He wasn’t ready to say that he wanted him with all his heart, as an equal and as a lover.
******
Sugar
I can’t hide it
Now hear my confession
A bird twittered, taking England’s already drifting attention along with it. Why he was trapped at this ridiculous garden party of France’s he had no idea. No, he had a perfectly good notion, his boss had forced him into a vehicle this morning to bring him here. It was for ‘diplomacy’. England would have preferred going to war with the frog again than to have to sit through who knew how many courses. His one consolation was that he had been seated at a table with America. The other nation had grown bored by the third course and had been tearing his napkin into tiny squares and making origami which he would then fling across the table to Japan, who would send a better made one back towards him.
England did have to sigh at the Asian nation for sinking to America’s level in needing constant entertainment, but he supposed perhaps they fed each other’s needs for invention. They certainly had a lot of joint projects going on. He couldn’t help but feel a little jealous, although America did turn to him for other economic or political projects. This tossing of origami cranes and frogs lasted for about a half hour before France realized it and confiscated the materials.
“Jeez, he’s no fun. Why can’t we just barbecue or something, that’d be so much better.” America muttered under his breath, causing England to smile.
There was a gap of time between the appetizer courses and the main, so England decided he would stretch his legs while he could. He walked off into the garden, he did have to give France some credit, his garden was lovely. It was arranged like a maze, England enjoyed following the winding twists and turns.
His heart leapt into his throat when he rounded a hedge. He hadn’t expected America to walk in the same space. He was looking very intently at a rose. He must have seen England out of the corner of his eye because he waved him over. Since he had had been openly staring at him, England had no choice to come over since there was no way he could pretend he had just not seen him.
England waved awkwardly at him as he came over. He glanced at the rose America had been so intent on, “What are you looking at?”
America glanced up at him, and England felt his heart flutter at the look in those blue eyes. They were excited and bright, England wondered if those eyes would ever be turned on him like that. “Check him out.” He pointed at the petals where a delicate looking caterpillar was crawling across the petals.
“A bug?”
“He’s cute. And I think he might be a rare one.” he said, England chuckled.
“You’re cute.” He flushed immediately, as the words came out of his mouth. How had the that slipped through? America glanced up at him, a surprised look on his face.
“What?” he asked. England immediately began backing up, stuttering some answer, that he couldn’t even keep track of.
“T-the ca-caterpillar of course!” He felt his body stopped as he was blocked by one of the perfectly trimmed hedges of the maze. He stumbled and found a warm hand wrap around his upper arm to keep him from falling.
“Careful!” England jerked away as soon as he was on his feet. America’s face twitched with some emotion that England could not quite make out.
“Thank you.” he said, feeling his cheeks burning. He was sure he must be bright red. “We should probably get back to the party.” The Englishman turned briskly on his heel.
“I think you’re cute too...” England paused, wondering if it was just imagination. He turned, eyes downcast, afraid to look at him.
“What?” He watched as the shadow America cast stretched closer to him. He watched as the toes of his scuffed dress shoes came into view.
“I said, I think you’re cute too. I really like you England.” In surprise, England looked up to take in America’s face. He was staring at his shoes, fidgeting the way he did when he was holding back something else he wanted to say. England fought the urge to run away. He stood there in silence, staring at the American, looking at the face he had been focused on for centuries. His attention was drawn to his mouth, the way his lips were pursed in thought, awaiting an answer.
England felt his heart pounding in his chest as he made his decision. He brushed his knuckles across one of America’s cheeks before wrapping his fingers around the back of his head and pulled him to him, pressing his lips against the other’s.
He expected to be pushed away, for America to flee from him with a frightened look on his face, or worse, a disgusted one. He never expected for arms to wrap around him and to be kissed back. He wrapped his arms around America in return, clutching him to his body as they kissed. He tentatively opened his mouth, tasting the sweetness from the sugar that was in the American’s coffee that he had been drinking all day. America reciprocated, and England felt his knees go weak at the kiss.
“Does this mean you like me too?”
England looked up at him and met his eyes. He glanced around to make sure no one could see him, “I think I’ve been in love with you for longer than even I realize.”
It was his confession, and it was welcomed with a kiss.
******
Title: "My Confession" Part 1/2
Author: shuriken7
Claim: America
Prompt: 21. Friend, 8. Proof, 28. Truth, 10. Soul, 26. Glass, 30. Sugar @ 50ficlets, 81. How?, 22. Enemies, 9. Months, 82. If, 41. Shapes, 5. Outsides @ fanfic100
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Rating: PG to PG-13
Word Count: 2,127 for part 1
Summary: England reflects on his relationship with America throughout the years, wondering why it took him so long to say the words...
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
******
Friend
I have been blind, unwilling to see
The true love you’re giving
The morning was brisk, cool air blowing beneath the door frame. He would have to remind America to fix it before winter, when the draft would make the entire house freezing regardless of how many braziers were put up. He stirred the porridge that the boy had made, no that wasn’t right, America looked like a young man now.
How could he have forgotten? He had suffered quite the shock that morning to have a large boy that looked 16 barrel into him, forgetting for a moment who he was. He had expected the small boy he had left. He came back from the Seven Years War to find him a man, not so much a little brother anymore. America was beginning to feel like more of a peer or a friend, and England was not sure how he felt about that fact.
What was the flutter he felt in his stomach as America would hug him or snuggle up to him like he used to? Why did he suddenly notice every little thing the growing colony would do? Perhaps it would be best to just ignore it, he thought, it would be far simpler.
******
Proof
I have ignored every blessing
I’m on my knees, confessing
It had hurt enough the first time, the pain of watching America turn his back on him and walk away. Sometimes he felt as though the chill of that rain never left his bones, bringing him torment on the dark, lonely nights. He could always see that pitying gaze, staring at him through the rain, telling him he was not what he once was.
Then, the fool had to make an enemy of him again. He chose to press the matter of impressment of American sailors and declared war on him. Many battles and skirmishes had been fought, and just when he thought he had the cocky child, he would find himself facing cannon fire and being routed back to where he came from.
He had felt enjoyment as he watched the boy’s capital burn, he wanted proof of their enmity, that all feelings that he had for the other were extinguished. Yet, he felt something else stir. He felt all the emotions that he had tried to suppress from the time of the Revolution well up inside him. He dropped to his knees in the ashes of the White House and wept. Why did he not listen to him fifty years ago when he had the chance? Why did he not acknowledge his feelings before?
“Damn it, I love him.” he said to muddy, ash strewn ground, just as the wind began to blow bringing a storm that fit his mood perfectly.
******
Truth
...I feel myself surrender
Each time I see your face
It had been many months since the last time they had seen each other, and that last time had merely been a glance. America was very busy on his quest for Manifest Destiny, his people spreading out across the continent, finding resources and landscapes that no one knew existed. England’s own people were bringing back stories of fantastic landscapes where water boiled in lakes that were every color of the rainbow and of a large mountain range that rose out of the grassy plains.
It all sounded so wonderful and England absorbed himself in reading what news he could about the nation across the Atlantic. It was in a trade meeting that he saw him again. Just like in the years when he was a colony, he shot up like a weed. This current expansion was definitely having an effect on him. He had filled out, becoming a lot bulkier than the slim teenager he had been. England was a little jealous of how tall the other had become.
He spent most of the meeting watching the other, they saw each other occasionally, but had not spoken in years. England liked to pretend it was due to missed opportunities, but he knew the truth. He was avoiding the other nation. He was avoiding the feelings that were growing stronger. Every time he saw America, he wanted to be able to say something, but would not allow himself.
England looked away for a brief moment to acknowledge what the presenter had to say and when he flicked his eyes back he froze. Bright, blue eyes were looking back at him for the briefest of moments and his stomach did flip flops, and to cover up the feeling he glared, causing America to look away.
******
Soul
I am staggered by your beauty
He had to admit he was floored when America gave his presentation on this idea he was working on. It was a simple idea, something that he would take to heart as the world was beginning to shift into full on industrialism and technology. America stood and talked about how land was so valuable and important. He spoke from his soul, although it was obvious he was torn over the paradox between preservation and progress. He had brought paintings of the landscapes of his nation, places that his people were working to preserve so that anyone could see them, today and in the future.
Many of England’s people had already flocked to these wonderlands that America had within his borders, especially as they became more accessible by train and other means of transportation. This announcement was actually a peaceful break from all of the war that was stirring in Europe. His boss had needed to practically drag him away from the trenches, telling him he needed to rest so his people would have the spirit to continue. England wanted to transport himself into one of those paintings, into the primeval world of the North American continent’s wilderness. How did that American say it? “To have the cares drop off like falling leaves...”
He sighed, if only if he could reach out for the American standing in front of him, currently untouched by this war, shining with the excitement and the prospect of the future. If only he wasn’t afraid that he would tarnish that light, too afraid to be part of any reason that would make that bright smile falter.
*******
Glass
And I feel my heart is turning
Falling into place
“America.”
The individual in question turned to look at him and England paused. The scene almost seemed to be out of one of those films America was so fond of making these days. They were standing in an old church that they had been touring through together. Behind the younger nation was a brilliant stained glass window. The different shapes and colors coming together to build a beautiful backdrop to the person in front of it. England felt his breath catch in his throat, it was a stunning scene.
His mind wandered, he knew he should say something, give voice to what he wanted. Or if he couldn’t do that, just grab the git and snog the living daylights out of him. Instead, everything he wanted to say escaped his tongue when America’s eyes met his, a questioning look on his face.
“What?” He tilted his head, curious as to what the Englishman wanted.
England shook his head, “Never mind.” He wasn’t ready to tell him that his heart sped up every time he was around him. He wasn’t ready to say that he wanted him with all his heart, as an equal and as a lover.
******
Sugar
I can’t hide it
Now hear my confession
A bird twittered, taking England’s already drifting attention along with it. Why he was trapped at this ridiculous garden party of France’s he had no idea. No, he had a perfectly good notion, his boss had forced him into a vehicle this morning to bring him here. It was for ‘diplomacy’. England would have preferred going to war with the frog again than to have to sit through who knew how many courses. His one consolation was that he had been seated at a table with America. The other nation had grown bored by the third course and had been tearing his napkin into tiny squares and making origami which he would then fling across the table to Japan, who would send a better made one back towards him.
England did have to sigh at the Asian nation for sinking to America’s level in needing constant entertainment, but he supposed perhaps they fed each other’s needs for invention. They certainly had a lot of joint projects going on. He couldn’t help but feel a little jealous, although America did turn to him for other economic or political projects. This tossing of origami cranes and frogs lasted for about a half hour before France realized it and confiscated the materials.
“Jeez, he’s no fun. Why can’t we just barbecue or something, that’d be so much better.” America muttered under his breath, causing England to smile.
There was a gap of time between the appetizer courses and the main, so England decided he would stretch his legs while he could. He walked off into the garden, he did have to give France some credit, his garden was lovely. It was arranged like a maze, England enjoyed following the winding twists and turns.
His heart leapt into his throat when he rounded a hedge. He hadn’t expected America to walk in the same space. He was looking very intently at a rose. He must have seen England out of the corner of his eye because he waved him over. Since he had had been openly staring at him, England had no choice to come over since there was no way he could pretend he had just not seen him.
England waved awkwardly at him as he came over. He glanced at the rose America had been so intent on, “What are you looking at?”
America glanced up at him, and England felt his heart flutter at the look in those blue eyes. They were excited and bright, England wondered if those eyes would ever be turned on him like that. “Check him out.” He pointed at the petals where a delicate looking caterpillar was crawling across the petals.
“A bug?”
“He’s cute. And I think he might be a rare one.” he said, England chuckled.
“You’re cute.” He flushed immediately, as the words came out of his mouth. How had the that slipped through? America glanced up at him, a surprised look on his face.
“What?” he asked. England immediately began backing up, stuttering some answer, that he couldn’t even keep track of.
“T-the ca-caterpillar of course!” He felt his body stopped as he was blocked by one of the perfectly trimmed hedges of the maze. He stumbled and found a warm hand wrap around his upper arm to keep him from falling.
“Careful!” England jerked away as soon as he was on his feet. America’s face twitched with some emotion that England could not quite make out.
“Thank you.” he said, feeling his cheeks burning. He was sure he must be bright red. “We should probably get back to the party.” The Englishman turned briskly on his heel.
“I think you’re cute too...” England paused, wondering if it was just imagination. He turned, eyes downcast, afraid to look at him.
“What?” He watched as the shadow America cast stretched closer to him. He watched as the toes of his scuffed dress shoes came into view.
“I said, I think you’re cute too. I really like you England.” In surprise, England looked up to take in America’s face. He was staring at his shoes, fidgeting the way he did when he was holding back something else he wanted to say. England fought the urge to run away. He stood there in silence, staring at the American, looking at the face he had been focused on for centuries. His attention was drawn to his mouth, the way his lips were pursed in thought, awaiting an answer.
England felt his heart pounding in his chest as he made his decision. He brushed his knuckles across one of America’s cheeks before wrapping his fingers around the back of his head and pulled him to him, pressing his lips against the other’s.
He expected to be pushed away, for America to flee from him with a frightened look on his face, or worse, a disgusted one. He never expected for arms to wrap around him and to be kissed back. He wrapped his arms around America in return, clutching him to his body as they kissed. He tentatively opened his mouth, tasting the sweetness from the sugar that was in the American’s coffee that he had been drinking all day. America reciprocated, and England felt his knees go weak at the kiss.
“Does this mean you like me too?”
England looked up at him and met his eyes. He glanced around to make sure no one could see him, “I think I’ve been in love with you for longer than even I realize.”
It was his confession, and it was welcomed with a kiss.