[Summer Camp- Love] Fic- How Not to Serenade Your Lover
Title: How Not to Serenade Your Lover
Genre: Fluff, I suppose
Ratings: PG
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1979
Summary: England decided to surprise America with a romantic serenade. In hindsight, he probably should have chosen another song.
Notes: Internet cookies if you guess the song before England actually sings it.
America slammed the door behind him, struggling to keep the paranoia from rising any further. I am not in a movie, I am not in a movie, America chanted in his head. This is real life. Not a movie…
After the day he had, though, it was hard not to think in movie terms. America was trying very, very hard to keep his thoughts away from specific movies, because those movies were of the horror variety and England wasn’t due to arrive until tomorrow, so there would be no one to help him through the night. Not that he needed help! Heroes weren’t afraid of anything!
…Still, it would be nice not to be alone tonight.
Anyway, he was sure he was imagining it. There was absolutely no reason for a bunch of girls to follow him around all day. It was just a… large… group of girls who happened to be shopping at the same time he was. In… all the same places. Right.
Normally, America would have chalked those girls up as fans who were overwhelmed by his charm and good looks, but they weren’t anywhere near as creepy as the birds. Oh god, the birds. All day long, whenever he stepped outside, a bunch of birds would just- appear. Thankfully, they didn’t seem to be staring at him, but it got more and more unnerving as the number of birds grew throughout the day. He couldn’t help but recall a certain horror movie he hadn’t seen in years, and those thoughts were way too unpleasant to think about, so America had forcefully distracted himself through various manners, most of which involved hamburgers. As soon as his errands were done, he fled to the safety of his house, where he was now telling himself that he was merely being paranoid, just a minor Cold War spell, nothing to be worried about.
America decided that a good bout of zombie-killing was exactly what he needed to chill, so he headed towards his bedroom. He shot zombies and vampires alike for the next few hours. After that, he decided to take a break, and glanced towards the window. In the brightly lit room, the earlier paranoia seemed rather silly now. America chuckled and walked to the window.
The second story window had an excellent view of the night sky, since this house was situated in a less populated part of town. There had been many nights where America had sat at his window seat and watched the stars. A roof and telescope would have been better, but unfortunately, this house hadn’t been built for roof access. Still, the view was decent enough for stargazing.
America flopped onto the many pillows occupying the window seat. After he arranged himself comfortably, he looked up at the familiar night sky, catching sight of a shooting star. Moments later, there was another one.
“Oh,” America breathed. No matter how often he’s seen them, shooting stars were always magical to him. “I didn’t realize there was a meteor shower tonight.”
He started counting the meteors he saw, delighted at their frequency. Only… the meteors looked wrong, somehow. It wasn’t until he started looking for constellations that he realized what was wrong. It wasn’t falling stars he was watching; it looked like the stars in the sky, fixed stars that had been there for ever, were literally falling from their positions in the sky.
America wasn’t sure how long he’d been gaping at the sky (mind racing a mile a minute on the implications of literal falling stars) when strains of a bass guitar suddenly came from outside his window. He looked down, and- England? England was standing on his lawn, his bass hanging from his shoulders. The bass was hooked up to an amp, and England was strumming, and wait a minute, was he singing?
He fumbled with the window. Once the window opened, he could hear England much more clearly, and he was singing something soft and mellow- was that a Carpenters song?
America let the lyrics drift up towards him as he enjoyed the sight of his lover playing his guitar. England smiled up at him, singing, “On the day that you were born, the angels got together and decided to create a dream come true. So they sprinkled moon-dust in your hair of gold and starlight in your eyes of blue…”
England kept singing, but the next lyrics reminded America of the beginning of the song, which he missed, and suddenly, America knew that England was to blame for the creepy day he’d had.
“Just like me, they long to be close to you…” England crooned, and finished the song with a bass solo that was most definitely not in the song. England looked so earnest and adorable while doing it, and the romance of the song and relief that he wasn’t in a horror movie melted the annoyance away from America’s chest.
England smiled up at him, and America grinned back. He opened the window more so he could lean out. “When did you get here? I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow?”
“It wouldn’t have been a surprise if I had told you when I was actually coming,” England replied. “I’m surprised I didn’t give myself away earlier, what with the racket I was making whilst setting up. What were you doing?”
“Just playing some video games. Um.” America paused as a thought hit him. “I- what’s the occasion? I didn’t forget something, did I?” He started patting himself for his phone. What good was a smartphone if it didn’t remind him about stuff like this? Oh god, what if it was some weird obscure anniversary thing that he never thought about, he wouldn’t have entered it into his calen-
“No occasion. I thought it would nice to surprise you with a romantic serenade is all. And no,” England added as America opened his mouth, “I’m not drunk.”
“I wasn’t about to ask that,” America lied, relieved. “So, uh, why that song, and does it have anything to do with the super weird day I had?”
England strummed his guitar absently. “Well, I was looking over some old music from the 70s and 80s when I came across some tapes you had given me. Your Carpenters had some very nice tunes, and one of their songs in particular rather caught my attention. It, uh.” England started looking embarrassed, and he looked down at his guitar, where his fingers were fiddling with the dials. “It reminded me of you. And I thought. Well. That it would nice. Um, romantic, that is. If I brought it to life. A bit.”
One of the things that America would never, ever tell England was how adorable he looked when he’s red and stuttering. At best, it would lead to a red and huffy England, which was equally adorable, and at worst, England would be offended enough to freeze him out. Blue balls were so not cool, so he swallowed those words down and concentrated on the other issue. “You thought it would be cool to have girls and birds follow me around all day? I mean, I guess I don’t really mind the girls, but dude, seriously, the birds?” He saw a frown forming on England’s face, and barreled over the question in England’s eyebrows. “It’s been a few years- a couple decades, really- but I know I showed you that movie, the creepy one with the birds? It was a Hitchcock thriller.”
England looked puzzled, his expression perfectly formed to pose a clarifying question, and America watched the realization and subsequent guilt spread over his face. “Oh god, I am so sorry, America, it never crossed my mind- “
“You did the stars too, yeah?” America interrupted.
England looked up at the night sky, where stars were still falling every once in a while. “Yes. Tricky bugger to get right too. The birds and the girls were much easier to bespell.” He looked back at America. “Again, I must apologize. I, er, that is, well, I thought a romantic surprise would be a brilliant way of showing you just how much I love you.”
“By bringing a love song to life?”
“Yes.” The embarrassed look was creeping its way back onto England’s face. “As I said, when I heard the song, I immediately thought of you. The lyrics were simple enough, and I suppose I went a tad overboard with my magic. I should have chosen another song, perhaps. I never meant to scare you, America, and I can’t apologize enough for that.”
“Well, why don’t you come up here and apologize in person, then?” America leered. America had plans for that, oh yes he did. He cackled with glee internally.
England chuckled, and his eyes crinkled a bit around the corners. “I’d be happy to, love. Just as soon as I clean up here.”
“’kay.” America snuggled into a body pillow and watched England unplug and wind up the various cables connecting the guitar and amp to his external power plugs. England must have used two or three extension cables to extend the reach all the way to his bedroom window. For a couple minutes, America sat content, watching the movements of his lover, until a streak in the corner of his eye brought up another thought. He leaned out the window again. “Hey, England?”
England paused with a cable halfway wound across his hand and elbow. “Yes?”
“Whatever you did to the stars and birds and stuff, you can fix that, right? Because I don’t think my scientists will be very happy with literal falling stars.”
“The spells on the birds and girls wore off around sunset, and as for the stars-“ England continued winding the cable- “that should wear off at sunrise. The stars aren’t actually falling, as the spell is more illusory than- but I doubt you’re interested in the details.”
America pouted at the stars. “This better not show up all over my news tomorrow, England. The UFOs and crop circles are bad enough.”
“America, I keep telling you this, but it doesn’t seem to stick. Technology cannot capture magic in such a way. There may be a few rumors, but what’s another local urban legend?” England gathered the cables and amp and started walking towards America’s front door. “If you would please open the door for me, America?”
For a moment, America considered telling England to open his own doors, but then he might not get his “apology,” and it had been far too long since he had seen and touched England, and no way was he jeopardizing that. He tossed out a quick “Coming!” and closed the window. After a moment of thought, he closed the drapes as well. England liked his privacy, and the falling stars, rather than the beauty of actual meteors, felt wrong (not that he would tell England that). Then he ran downstairs to meet England at the door.
He threw open the door, and there was England, still slightly flushed from his performance, with an armful of cables and amp. Next to him was a suitcase, which England must have stowed away by the side of the house. They grinned at each other, and between the two of them, got the suitcase and all electronics to the living room, where they were all unceremoniously dumped. Then they were in each other’s arms, breathing in scents and enjoying the feel of the other in their arms.
America kissed England on the cheek. “I missed you.”
“And I as well,” England breathed.
America grinned. “I love you.”
England grabbed America’s face and kissed him full on the lips. “I love you too. Why don’t I show you how much?” England smirked, and something in America fluttered in joy as England pushed him towards the stairs. He couldn’t wait to get his apology.
--
Song: (They Long to Be) Close to You by Carpenters. It's actually a cover of an earlier song, but the Carpenters made it popular, so it's generally known as a Carpenters song.
The movie America references: The Birds, an Alfred Hitchcock thriller. About birds suddenly attacking people en masse. Wikipedia and reviews say it's creepy and gorey. Totally not my thing, so I'll take their word for it. Man, the troubles America would have had sleeping after watching that.
Yay, last minute entry! :P
Genre: Fluff, I suppose
Ratings: PG
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1979
Summary: England decided to surprise America with a romantic serenade. In hindsight, he probably should have chosen another song.
Notes: Internet cookies if you guess the song before England actually sings it.
America slammed the door behind him, struggling to keep the paranoia from rising any further. I am not in a movie, I am not in a movie, America chanted in his head. This is real life. Not a movie…
After the day he had, though, it was hard not to think in movie terms. America was trying very, very hard to keep his thoughts away from specific movies, because those movies were of the horror variety and England wasn’t due to arrive until tomorrow, so there would be no one to help him through the night. Not that he needed help! Heroes weren’t afraid of anything!
…Still, it would be nice not to be alone tonight.
Anyway, he was sure he was imagining it. There was absolutely no reason for a bunch of girls to follow him around all day. It was just a… large… group of girls who happened to be shopping at the same time he was. In… all the same places. Right.
Normally, America would have chalked those girls up as fans who were overwhelmed by his charm and good looks, but they weren’t anywhere near as creepy as the birds. Oh god, the birds. All day long, whenever he stepped outside, a bunch of birds would just- appear. Thankfully, they didn’t seem to be staring at him, but it got more and more unnerving as the number of birds grew throughout the day. He couldn’t help but recall a certain horror movie he hadn’t seen in years, and those thoughts were way too unpleasant to think about, so America had forcefully distracted himself through various manners, most of which involved hamburgers. As soon as his errands were done, he fled to the safety of his house, where he was now telling himself that he was merely being paranoid, just a minor Cold War spell, nothing to be worried about.
America decided that a good bout of zombie-killing was exactly what he needed to chill, so he headed towards his bedroom. He shot zombies and vampires alike for the next few hours. After that, he decided to take a break, and glanced towards the window. In the brightly lit room, the earlier paranoia seemed rather silly now. America chuckled and walked to the window.
The second story window had an excellent view of the night sky, since this house was situated in a less populated part of town. There had been many nights where America had sat at his window seat and watched the stars. A roof and telescope would have been better, but unfortunately, this house hadn’t been built for roof access. Still, the view was decent enough for stargazing.
America flopped onto the many pillows occupying the window seat. After he arranged himself comfortably, he looked up at the familiar night sky, catching sight of a shooting star. Moments later, there was another one.
“Oh,” America breathed. No matter how often he’s seen them, shooting stars were always magical to him. “I didn’t realize there was a meteor shower tonight.”
He started counting the meteors he saw, delighted at their frequency. Only… the meteors looked wrong, somehow. It wasn’t until he started looking for constellations that he realized what was wrong. It wasn’t falling stars he was watching; it looked like the stars in the sky, fixed stars that had been there for ever, were literally falling from their positions in the sky.
America wasn’t sure how long he’d been gaping at the sky (mind racing a mile a minute on the implications of literal falling stars) when strains of a bass guitar suddenly came from outside his window. He looked down, and- England? England was standing on his lawn, his bass hanging from his shoulders. The bass was hooked up to an amp, and England was strumming, and wait a minute, was he singing?
He fumbled with the window. Once the window opened, he could hear England much more clearly, and he was singing something soft and mellow- was that a Carpenters song?
America let the lyrics drift up towards him as he enjoyed the sight of his lover playing his guitar. England smiled up at him, singing, “On the day that you were born, the angels got together and decided to create a dream come true. So they sprinkled moon-dust in your hair of gold and starlight in your eyes of blue…”
England kept singing, but the next lyrics reminded America of the beginning of the song, which he missed, and suddenly, America knew that England was to blame for the creepy day he’d had.
“Just like me, they long to be close to you…” England crooned, and finished the song with a bass solo that was most definitely not in the song. England looked so earnest and adorable while doing it, and the romance of the song and relief that he wasn’t in a horror movie melted the annoyance away from America’s chest.
England smiled up at him, and America grinned back. He opened the window more so he could lean out. “When did you get here? I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow?”
“It wouldn’t have been a surprise if I had told you when I was actually coming,” England replied. “I’m surprised I didn’t give myself away earlier, what with the racket I was making whilst setting up. What were you doing?”
“Just playing some video games. Um.” America paused as a thought hit him. “I- what’s the occasion? I didn’t forget something, did I?” He started patting himself for his phone. What good was a smartphone if it didn’t remind him about stuff like this? Oh god, what if it was some weird obscure anniversary thing that he never thought about, he wouldn’t have entered it into his calen-
“No occasion. I thought it would nice to surprise you with a romantic serenade is all. And no,” England added as America opened his mouth, “I’m not drunk.”
“I wasn’t about to ask that,” America lied, relieved. “So, uh, why that song, and does it have anything to do with the super weird day I had?”
England strummed his guitar absently. “Well, I was looking over some old music from the 70s and 80s when I came across some tapes you had given me. Your Carpenters had some very nice tunes, and one of their songs in particular rather caught my attention. It, uh.” England started looking embarrassed, and he looked down at his guitar, where his fingers were fiddling with the dials. “It reminded me of you. And I thought. Well. That it would nice. Um, romantic, that is. If I brought it to life. A bit.”
One of the things that America would never, ever tell England was how adorable he looked when he’s red and stuttering. At best, it would lead to a red and huffy England, which was equally adorable, and at worst, England would be offended enough to freeze him out. Blue balls were so not cool, so he swallowed those words down and concentrated on the other issue. “You thought it would be cool to have girls and birds follow me around all day? I mean, I guess I don’t really mind the girls, but dude, seriously, the birds?” He saw a frown forming on England’s face, and barreled over the question in England’s eyebrows. “It’s been a few years- a couple decades, really- but I know I showed you that movie, the creepy one with the birds? It was a Hitchcock thriller.”
England looked puzzled, his expression perfectly formed to pose a clarifying question, and America watched the realization and subsequent guilt spread over his face. “Oh god, I am so sorry, America, it never crossed my mind- “
“You did the stars too, yeah?” America interrupted.
England looked up at the night sky, where stars were still falling every once in a while. “Yes. Tricky bugger to get right too. The birds and the girls were much easier to bespell.” He looked back at America. “Again, I must apologize. I, er, that is, well, I thought a romantic surprise would be a brilliant way of showing you just how much I love you.”
“By bringing a love song to life?”
“Yes.” The embarrassed look was creeping its way back onto England’s face. “As I said, when I heard the song, I immediately thought of you. The lyrics were simple enough, and I suppose I went a tad overboard with my magic. I should have chosen another song, perhaps. I never meant to scare you, America, and I can’t apologize enough for that.”
“Well, why don’t you come up here and apologize in person, then?” America leered. America had plans for that, oh yes he did. He cackled with glee internally.
England chuckled, and his eyes crinkled a bit around the corners. “I’d be happy to, love. Just as soon as I clean up here.”
“’kay.” America snuggled into a body pillow and watched England unplug and wind up the various cables connecting the guitar and amp to his external power plugs. England must have used two or three extension cables to extend the reach all the way to his bedroom window. For a couple minutes, America sat content, watching the movements of his lover, until a streak in the corner of his eye brought up another thought. He leaned out the window again. “Hey, England?”
England paused with a cable halfway wound across his hand and elbow. “Yes?”
“Whatever you did to the stars and birds and stuff, you can fix that, right? Because I don’t think my scientists will be very happy with literal falling stars.”
“The spells on the birds and girls wore off around sunset, and as for the stars-“ England continued winding the cable- “that should wear off at sunrise. The stars aren’t actually falling, as the spell is more illusory than- but I doubt you’re interested in the details.”
America pouted at the stars. “This better not show up all over my news tomorrow, England. The UFOs and crop circles are bad enough.”
“America, I keep telling you this, but it doesn’t seem to stick. Technology cannot capture magic in such a way. There may be a few rumors, but what’s another local urban legend?” England gathered the cables and amp and started walking towards America’s front door. “If you would please open the door for me, America?”
For a moment, America considered telling England to open his own doors, but then he might not get his “apology,” and it had been far too long since he had seen and touched England, and no way was he jeopardizing that. He tossed out a quick “Coming!” and closed the window. After a moment of thought, he closed the drapes as well. England liked his privacy, and the falling stars, rather than the beauty of actual meteors, felt wrong (not that he would tell England that). Then he ran downstairs to meet England at the door.
He threw open the door, and there was England, still slightly flushed from his performance, with an armful of cables and amp. Next to him was a suitcase, which England must have stowed away by the side of the house. They grinned at each other, and between the two of them, got the suitcase and all electronics to the living room, where they were all unceremoniously dumped. Then they were in each other’s arms, breathing in scents and enjoying the feel of the other in their arms.
America kissed England on the cheek. “I missed you.”
“And I as well,” England breathed.
America grinned. “I love you.”
England grabbed America’s face and kissed him full on the lips. “I love you too. Why don’t I show you how much?” England smirked, and something in America fluttered in joy as England pushed him towards the stairs. He couldn’t wait to get his apology.
--
Song: (They Long to Be) Close to You by Carpenters. It's actually a cover of an earlier song, but the Carpenters made it popular, so it's generally known as a Carpenters song.
The movie America references: The Birds, an Alfred Hitchcock thriller. About birds suddenly attacking people en masse. Wikipedia and reviews say it's creepy and gorey. Totally not my thing, so I'll take their word for it. Man, the troubles America would have had sleeping after watching that.
Yay, last minute entry! :P