[Hetalia] Could It Be Magic
TITLE: Could It Be Magic
AUTHOR: shuriken7
FANDOM: Hetalia
PAIRING: America/England
GENRE: Slash
PROMPT: 9. Could it be magic? @ 12_stories, Marriage @ fandomwords100
RATING: PG-13
WORD COUNT: 1100
SUMMARY: He never dreamed it could be, that the other would actually love him back. A series of drabbles based on a roleplay with the lovely velted where England asked America to marry him.
WARNINGS: Hetalia deals with personifications of nation-states. Some stories may be historical while others may be examining them as just people.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia.
Being together was never something England would allow himself to dream about. He mentally hit himself when he let his mind wander to the strong arms that helped him up when he was down. The smile that would assure him that it would be alright. The frustrating tenacity the showed when trying to fix a problem that may have no solution.
It frightened him when he found himself leaning on him more. He had fallen in love, he no longer had to lean only on himself. He realized he only wanted America by his side, he would lean on him.
~*~
He considered, how he would tell him. He still blushed madly when he thought about that first night. Drink loosened his tongue, and he confessed his love. He had expected America to brush him away, or think he was joking. Instead, the younger man's mouth was on his, saying that he had always wanted this. He had tasted his tongue and run his fingers over his skin. He had stretched himself over him, desire taking control of him. He couldn't help but watch America's face coming for the first time, knowing this was the only thing he had ever wanted.
~*~
The passions stirred, he supposed he should be embarrassed that he could not keep his hands off of his new lover, not that America was any help. The younger man practically begged to be jumped. A powerful memory was a certain car trip, that not only ended with them getting caught in the act (a horrifying moment for both of them), but learning about how much their bodies yearned for each other's touch. How the twist of a wrist or the brush of a tongue could bring passions to the surface that neither of them knew that they had.
~*~
When desire cooled, their hearts could grow warm with affection. England formulated a plan, he would ask the other to marry him. Not that marriage was an attainable dream, their positions made it impossible, but it was the promise that meant more to him. To know that the other wanted to be only with him. To be certain of his feelings. He pondered for days, thinking of when would be the opportune time. The warmth of summer inspired him. The event that had always been his darkest day would now become a bright moment, he would propose on America's birthday.
~*~
America had not expected a thing when the box showed up on his coffee table, a cryptic message saying that he could only open a drawer each hour starting at midnight counting down to his birthday. He opened the first drawer, he had slept late and could open the first nine. He read them one after another, his smile growing as England shared the ways he loved him. His stomach fluttered and his face heated up, he echoed each to the empty house.
"I love you too, England." He ate some breakfast curious about what the other drawers would hold.
~*~
Every few hours America read another message of endearment, his heart warming more at each one. He idly wondered what his lover was up to as he referred to the little moments that had grown between them. Being honest with England had been one of the greatest things he'd ever done. For once, it had been something for himself and not for someone else. Each one brought on more feelings until he opened the last drawer at midnight sharp.
"Remember our conversation? This is for us." The note read, beneath it was a ring. He stared at in complete surprise.
~*~
"Open the window, love." the note said. America went over to see his boyfriend out on the branch, some gifts in his arms. He got the window open and helped him inside. He carried a bouquet of white and red roses, forget-me-nots scattered between them. In the other arm he had a teddy bear, almost their private joke. Before America could speak he watched England get down on one knee.
"I love you... Would you marry me if such a thing is possible?" he asked, a blush spreading across his cheeks. America's face heated up in response, and he nodded.
~*~
"I want to hear you say the words."
"I would." America said, handing the ring over to England when he offered a hand. England smiled and took the band, sliding it on his finger. England offered him a box that had an identical ring in it. America eagerly slid it onto England's hand. "I'm guessing I don't need to ask your permission."
"Well, I'd have to think about it." England teased, causing America to reach for the front of his shirt and pull him in for a kiss. The soft kisses sealed the promise, falling asleep in each other's arms.
~*~
It was the greatest birthday that America could remember, however his fingers itched the entire time to get a hold of his lover. The teasing kisses he received were not enough. He waited enough so that they wouldn't have the party mess in the backs of their minds, but when they were back in the house and England slammed him up against the door he couldn't wait any longer. He tangled their tongues together and wrapped his arms around him so that he couldn't escape.
"I would like to thank my fiance." he said, a flirty grin across his face.
~*~
It started on the couch, heated touches and ending up half undressed, stumbling upstairs before falling into each other's arms on the bed. The hot touches and warmth he felt as the other thrust against his body, he quivered in happiness and anticipation. They kissed and tangled their bodies together as if they could never get enough. America arched into his touch joyfully, stealing his name from England's mouth with a deep kiss. As they lay in each other's arms, he knew he had made the right decision, even though the rest of the world didn't get to know it.
~*~
Every time England woke up beside him he wondered if it was a dream. He kept expecting that it was a fanciful illusion, some cruel result of a spell going wrong. He would reach out to run his fingers through blonde locks and twirl his fingers around that errant hair, could it be magic? But then America would shift, a sleepy smile coming onto his face.
"Good morning, sweetheart." he would whisper. England would smile in relief, knowing it wasn't a dream.
"Good morning, my love." he hoped to be able to say it every day until the world ended.
AUTHOR: shuriken7
FANDOM: Hetalia
PAIRING: America/England
GENRE: Slash
PROMPT: 9. Could it be magic? @ 12_stories, Marriage @ fandomwords100
RATING: PG-13
WORD COUNT: 1100
SUMMARY: He never dreamed it could be, that the other would actually love him back. A series of drabbles based on a roleplay with the lovely velted where England asked America to marry him.
WARNINGS: Hetalia deals with personifications of nation-states. Some stories may be historical while others may be examining them as just people.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia.
Being together was never something England would allow himself to dream about. He mentally hit himself when he let his mind wander to the strong arms that helped him up when he was down. The smile that would assure him that it would be alright. The frustrating tenacity the showed when trying to fix a problem that may have no solution.
It frightened him when he found himself leaning on him more. He had fallen in love, he no longer had to lean only on himself. He realized he only wanted America by his side, he would lean on him.
~*~
He considered, how he would tell him. He still blushed madly when he thought about that first night. Drink loosened his tongue, and he confessed his love. He had expected America to brush him away, or think he was joking. Instead, the younger man's mouth was on his, saying that he had always wanted this. He had tasted his tongue and run his fingers over his skin. He had stretched himself over him, desire taking control of him. He couldn't help but watch America's face coming for the first time, knowing this was the only thing he had ever wanted.
~*~
The passions stirred, he supposed he should be embarrassed that he could not keep his hands off of his new lover, not that America was any help. The younger man practically begged to be jumped. A powerful memory was a certain car trip, that not only ended with them getting caught in the act (a horrifying moment for both of them), but learning about how much their bodies yearned for each other's touch. How the twist of a wrist or the brush of a tongue could bring passions to the surface that neither of them knew that they had.
~*~
When desire cooled, their hearts could grow warm with affection. England formulated a plan, he would ask the other to marry him. Not that marriage was an attainable dream, their positions made it impossible, but it was the promise that meant more to him. To know that the other wanted to be only with him. To be certain of his feelings. He pondered for days, thinking of when would be the opportune time. The warmth of summer inspired him. The event that had always been his darkest day would now become a bright moment, he would propose on America's birthday.
~*~
America had not expected a thing when the box showed up on his coffee table, a cryptic message saying that he could only open a drawer each hour starting at midnight counting down to his birthday. He opened the first drawer, he had slept late and could open the first nine. He read them one after another, his smile growing as England shared the ways he loved him. His stomach fluttered and his face heated up, he echoed each to the empty house.
"I love you too, England." He ate some breakfast curious about what the other drawers would hold.
~*~
Every few hours America read another message of endearment, his heart warming more at each one. He idly wondered what his lover was up to as he referred to the little moments that had grown between them. Being honest with England had been one of the greatest things he'd ever done. For once, it had been something for himself and not for someone else. Each one brought on more feelings until he opened the last drawer at midnight sharp.
"Remember our conversation? This is for us." The note read, beneath it was a ring. He stared at in complete surprise.
~*~
"Open the window, love." the note said. America went over to see his boyfriend out on the branch, some gifts in his arms. He got the window open and helped him inside. He carried a bouquet of white and red roses, forget-me-nots scattered between them. In the other arm he had a teddy bear, almost their private joke. Before America could speak he watched England get down on one knee.
"I love you... Would you marry me if such a thing is possible?" he asked, a blush spreading across his cheeks. America's face heated up in response, and he nodded.
~*~
"I want to hear you say the words."
"I would." America said, handing the ring over to England when he offered a hand. England smiled and took the band, sliding it on his finger. England offered him a box that had an identical ring in it. America eagerly slid it onto England's hand. "I'm guessing I don't need to ask your permission."
"Well, I'd have to think about it." England teased, causing America to reach for the front of his shirt and pull him in for a kiss. The soft kisses sealed the promise, falling asleep in each other's arms.
~*~
It was the greatest birthday that America could remember, however his fingers itched the entire time to get a hold of his lover. The teasing kisses he received were not enough. He waited enough so that they wouldn't have the party mess in the backs of their minds, but when they were back in the house and England slammed him up against the door he couldn't wait any longer. He tangled their tongues together and wrapped his arms around him so that he couldn't escape.
"I would like to thank my fiance." he said, a flirty grin across his face.
~*~
It started on the couch, heated touches and ending up half undressed, stumbling upstairs before falling into each other's arms on the bed. The hot touches and warmth he felt as the other thrust against his body, he quivered in happiness and anticipation. They kissed and tangled their bodies together as if they could never get enough. America arched into his touch joyfully, stealing his name from England's mouth with a deep kiss. As they lay in each other's arms, he knew he had made the right decision, even though the rest of the world didn't get to know it.
~*~
Every time England woke up beside him he wondered if it was a dream. He kept expecting that it was a fanciful illusion, some cruel result of a spell going wrong. He would reach out to run his fingers through blonde locks and twirl his fingers around that errant hair, could it be magic? But then America would shift, a sleepy smile coming onto his face.
"Good morning, sweetheart." he would whisper. England would smile in relief, knowing it wasn't a dream.
"Good morning, my love." he hoped to be able to say it every day until the world ended.