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hetalia2009-08-02 10:52 am
haruki-emishi.livejournal.com) wrote in hetalia2009-08-02 10:52 am
Entry tags:
[Fanfiction] This is more like a drabble but yep ....
Title: Reaching Out
Author:![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
haruki_emishi
Pairing: Implied England x America
Rating: PG/PG-13
Notes: Well I have never written a Hetalia fic before and haven't seen too many episodes. Let's see how this goes.
September 13, 1940
England sat gasping for breath against the walls of a crumbling building trying to alleviate the pain shooting through him. Germany's attack was not what he was expecting. The daunting feeling that had been looming over him since early August should have been the warning sign but, he was too wrapped up in other things he ignored his intuition. Poppycock. How could he be so damn careless about his own country? Worse yet he was injured due to the fact the land it's self, it's people were all suffering and wrought with despair. He had not even fought a single soldier yet, and still the blood crept through staining his uniform in different splotches red. He closed his eyes tightly as he attempted to make a movement but, the pain shoot through his ribs again and he was forced to sit back down. Germany had him pinned literally where he wanted him so he could not move. The man really thought this through thoroughly. Then again would he have expected any less?
America sprinted through the rubble and debris scattering the devastated streets of London looking around. Where was England at? Where on earth WAS he? Here America was to help in the effort and not too much planning could be done without the man after all.
"ARTHUR! " He shouted out but his words got drowned by another explosion. With a look of annoyance and determination America climbed up over rubble that lay in the way of any path he wanted to take. This was utter disaster and why didn't any of them see this coming? Germany was always a by the book individual and so a sneak attack on a day like this...very by the book. At least for Germany. All he could think was why didn't England pay attention when he kept complaining about the unshakable nervousness he felt.
"Arthur answer me!!" He stood on top of a pile of rubble shouting as loud as he could. No one. He furrowed his brow and jumped down standing there seemingly lost for a moment. A few men were carrying people away and there were women and children crying. Parts of the street had blood on them, or bodies, and even more disturbing the limbs of whomever. London was a total wreck and the carnage struck him rather deep when he saw before him just how it was. America wanted to help them now but he needed to get to England first. Dashing off behind one of the building he cut down a side street and started to slow his pace so he could look more thoroughly for England.
England heard America shout not too far from him and he rolled over sitting himself up. He gritted his teeth and pushed his back against the wall for a form of support.
"Over here! ....Bloody hell ...I am the next street!" He was not in the mood to overexert himself and that included stretching his vocal cords. America came bounding around the corner with a wide smile on his face.
"England!" He went to give the blonde man a hug but got a boot to the face.
"Not so fast you loon I am injured." He stated flatly. America fell back and rubbed his cheek a little bit feeling it get sore. Sitting upright he looked at his comrade and saw just how injured.
"What on earth...?"
"Well it's like this. When my country gets "injured" I get injured too ...you see?" He was taking bits of cloth and stopping up his wounds with them. America sat there nodding a little and went through his things to locate the bandages. Eureka he had them. Crawling over to England he started to unbutton his uniform top. There was an amount of resistance from the man until he realized what America was doing, and he settled down.
"Why don't you just ask your faeries for help?" America teased.
"..........No." Arthur was not in the mood for America's cheek right now. He sat up a little more to give him an easier time of dressing the wounds. America had never really seen England without a shirt and was slightly surprised that he had an amount of muscle mass. After all the guy just didn't look like he would be the type but, he was certainly much better off than Northern Italy probably.
"There you go you should be good as new." He pat him gently and started buttoning his uniform jacket only half way.
"Button it the rest of the way you git."
"Can't it will constrict the wounds if I do that."
Great so now he had to sit there with his jacket half open and that felt a little indecent to him. Another bombed hit fifteen streets over and rocked them and the building with the small shock wave. England's eyes got wide and he doubled over coughing up a small amount of blood into his hands. When was Germany planning on stopping? At this rate he would be very dead before long. America glanced over at his friend and looked back the way he had come from getting an idea. Gently he, whether England liked it or not, lifted the man on to his back and started to carry him away from the center of the city.
"Put me down this instant."
"No you're injured so I won't." America said. England rolled his eyes and rested his chin atop his head grumbling a little bit. Why did America ALWAYS have to be the hero? Idiot.
The effort to get out of London was a very taxing one to begin with but, America surprised England as he wasn't being a war mongering ninny. He just simply got him out safely and without the risk of either getting their arse kicked. They now were standing out near an open road near the rolling fields. America walked about a miles worth and finally settled England against a large tree and sat down beside him.
".....I'm sorry." America said.
"About....?" England said not looking over.
"You're prized city look at it." He half gestured before laying back in the grass. England watched as London was burning and he could still feel the vibrations of bombs. He doubled over again and held his arms around his waist shaking a little. Good god it hurt so damn badly he wanted to scream but, he wasn't about to go and do that. Still the pain was enough to allow a few tears to sting his eyes. America rolled onto his side and carefully lifted his chin up.
"Hey it'll be fine all right? London's gonna make it through this I'll make sure of it." He said with a smile. England turned his head so he could wipe his eyes quickly but nodded slowly. A few minutes later the vibrations ceased and England felt his body stop convulsing internally. With a few shaky breaths he managed to lay himself down on the grass and revel in how cool it felt.
"So...why did you come to rescue me like this?" He inquired glancing over.
"Well ......because ....." he poked England's cheek, "I like you and it was a sense of duty." He said with a small chuckle. England lofted a brow and turned over more.
"You like me? In what way...?" He asked rather cautiously a little afraid of what America would say or do. America however was grinning inwardly rather mischievously at that. Scooting closer he pressed his lips gently to England's just allowing it to linger there but, not wishing to press it any further since the man was injured after all. England's eyes got wide and he attempted to move back but, realized strenuous movement could harm him more. Damn.
"America you do not just KISS people that is rude, and besides what am I your lover? You don't do that..! " He reprimanded his friend trying to maintain an air of dignity.
"I'll do it again so watch out." America joked.
"You do it bloody again and I will have to resort to fisticuffs." England tried to be menacing. America feeling brave, which wasn't new, leaned in again and gently pulled Arthur into another kiss. Oh England had a lot to say about that! This man taking advantage of an injured person how utterly barbaric. Still ....England did not pull away either. After a moment he started to shyly return the kiss as if he never kissed anyone in his life. America broke the kiss again and smiled at him. England was blushing entirely embarrassed at the whole act. He closed his eyes and muttered.
"Good night and do not touch me like that while I am asleep."
"I promise I won't ..." America yawned and closed his eyes too. Maybe when England was better he could? Well maybe.
Author:
haruki_emishi Pairing: Implied England x America
Rating: PG/PG-13
Notes: Well I have never written a Hetalia fic before and haven't seen too many episodes. Let's see how this goes.
September 13, 1940
England sat gasping for breath against the walls of a crumbling building trying to alleviate the pain shooting through him. Germany's attack was not what he was expecting. The daunting feeling that had been looming over him since early August should have been the warning sign but, he was too wrapped up in other things he ignored his intuition. Poppycock. How could he be so damn careless about his own country? Worse yet he was injured due to the fact the land it's self, it's people were all suffering and wrought with despair. He had not even fought a single soldier yet, and still the blood crept through staining his uniform in different splotches red. He closed his eyes tightly as he attempted to make a movement but, the pain shoot through his ribs again and he was forced to sit back down. Germany had him pinned literally where he wanted him so he could not move. The man really thought this through thoroughly. Then again would he have expected any less?
America sprinted through the rubble and debris scattering the devastated streets of London looking around. Where was England at? Where on earth WAS he? Here America was to help in the effort and not too much planning could be done without the man after all.
"ARTHUR! " He shouted out but his words got drowned by another explosion. With a look of annoyance and determination America climbed up over rubble that lay in the way of any path he wanted to take. This was utter disaster and why didn't any of them see this coming? Germany was always a by the book individual and so a sneak attack on a day like this...very by the book. At least for Germany. All he could think was why didn't England pay attention when he kept complaining about the unshakable nervousness he felt.
"Arthur answer me!!" He stood on top of a pile of rubble shouting as loud as he could. No one. He furrowed his brow and jumped down standing there seemingly lost for a moment. A few men were carrying people away and there were women and children crying. Parts of the street had blood on them, or bodies, and even more disturbing the limbs of whomever. London was a total wreck and the carnage struck him rather deep when he saw before him just how it was. America wanted to help them now but he needed to get to England first. Dashing off behind one of the building he cut down a side street and started to slow his pace so he could look more thoroughly for England.
England heard America shout not too far from him and he rolled over sitting himself up. He gritted his teeth and pushed his back against the wall for a form of support.
"Over here! ....Bloody hell ...I am the next street!" He was not in the mood to overexert himself and that included stretching his vocal cords. America came bounding around the corner with a wide smile on his face.
"England!" He went to give the blonde man a hug but got a boot to the face.
"Not so fast you loon I am injured." He stated flatly. America fell back and rubbed his cheek a little bit feeling it get sore. Sitting upright he looked at his comrade and saw just how injured.
"What on earth...?"
"Well it's like this. When my country gets "injured" I get injured too ...you see?" He was taking bits of cloth and stopping up his wounds with them. America sat there nodding a little and went through his things to locate the bandages. Eureka he had them. Crawling over to England he started to unbutton his uniform top. There was an amount of resistance from the man until he realized what America was doing, and he settled down.
"Why don't you just ask your faeries for help?" America teased.
"..........No." Arthur was not in the mood for America's cheek right now. He sat up a little more to give him an easier time of dressing the wounds. America had never really seen England without a shirt and was slightly surprised that he had an amount of muscle mass. After all the guy just didn't look like he would be the type but, he was certainly much better off than Northern Italy probably.
"There you go you should be good as new." He pat him gently and started buttoning his uniform jacket only half way.
"Button it the rest of the way you git."
"Can't it will constrict the wounds if I do that."
Great so now he had to sit there with his jacket half open and that felt a little indecent to him. Another bombed hit fifteen streets over and rocked them and the building with the small shock wave. England's eyes got wide and he doubled over coughing up a small amount of blood into his hands. When was Germany planning on stopping? At this rate he would be very dead before long. America glanced over at his friend and looked back the way he had come from getting an idea. Gently he, whether England liked it or not, lifted the man on to his back and started to carry him away from the center of the city.
"Put me down this instant."
"No you're injured so I won't." America said. England rolled his eyes and rested his chin atop his head grumbling a little bit. Why did America ALWAYS have to be the hero? Idiot.
The effort to get out of London was a very taxing one to begin with but, America surprised England as he wasn't being a war mongering ninny. He just simply got him out safely and without the risk of either getting their arse kicked. They now were standing out near an open road near the rolling fields. America walked about a miles worth and finally settled England against a large tree and sat down beside him.
".....I'm sorry." America said.
"About....?" England said not looking over.
"You're prized city look at it." He half gestured before laying back in the grass. England watched as London was burning and he could still feel the vibrations of bombs. He doubled over again and held his arms around his waist shaking a little. Good god it hurt so damn badly he wanted to scream but, he wasn't about to go and do that. Still the pain was enough to allow a few tears to sting his eyes. America rolled onto his side and carefully lifted his chin up.
"Hey it'll be fine all right? London's gonna make it through this I'll make sure of it." He said with a smile. England turned his head so he could wipe his eyes quickly but nodded slowly. A few minutes later the vibrations ceased and England felt his body stop convulsing internally. With a few shaky breaths he managed to lay himself down on the grass and revel in how cool it felt.
"So...why did you come to rescue me like this?" He inquired glancing over.
"Well ......because ....." he poked England's cheek, "I like you and it was a sense of duty." He said with a small chuckle. England lofted a brow and turned over more.
"You like me? In what way...?" He asked rather cautiously a little afraid of what America would say or do. America however was grinning inwardly rather mischievously at that. Scooting closer he pressed his lips gently to England's just allowing it to linger there but, not wishing to press it any further since the man was injured after all. England's eyes got wide and he attempted to move back but, realized strenuous movement could harm him more. Damn.
"America you do not just KISS people that is rude, and besides what am I your lover? You don't do that..! " He reprimanded his friend trying to maintain an air of dignity.
"I'll do it again so watch out." America joked.
"You do it bloody again and I will have to resort to fisticuffs." England tried to be menacing. America feeling brave, which wasn't new, leaned in again and gently pulled Arthur into another kiss. Oh England had a lot to say about that! This man taking advantage of an injured person how utterly barbaric. Still ....England did not pull away either. After a moment he started to shyly return the kiss as if he never kissed anyone in his life. America broke the kiss again and smiled at him. England was blushing entirely embarrassed at the whole act. He closed his eyes and muttered.
"Good night and do not touch me like that while I am asleep."
"I promise I won't ..." America yawned and closed his eyes too. Maybe when England was better he could? Well maybe.
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