"I'm very grateful for you taking time out of your busy schedule to grace me with your awesome presence." He raised an eyebrow, lips twitching in a half smile. Prussia instantly took as an invitation to shove the blond into a wall, invading his mouth his tongue, kissing him passionately.
At least that had been the plan, but England chose this moment to take a step back towards the table to finish his tea. Prussia, who had effectively pounced on his lover, stumbled, unable to stop careering into an open cupboard.
A bottle of, thankfully almost empty coke fell from the cupboard, successfully spilling it's contents all over the surprised Prussia. He stood looking endearingly confused as the brown drink dripped from his hair, looking to England as if he could solve the problem.
It took effort not to laugh, but he really did love Prussia (Even if he hadn't gathered the courage to say it yet) so for the other's benefit he struggled past the desire, "Why wasn’t there a lid on it?" The question was asked mostly to distract Prussia from the slight curve of his mouth.
Recovering from his moment of shock Prussia grinned back, not even caring to look abashed at spilling the drink over England's floor, "I'm making Gilbird a hat out of it."
Prussia it seemed need to get out more.
"Much as I would love to continue this conversation I have a meeting to go to, tidy this up." He wasn't even sure why he bothered, he was very certain he'd be tidying it up when he got back. Prussia pouted, puppy eyes kicking in, and much to his glee England caved, at least a little bit.
"Go and shower, I'll see you tonight." He kissed Prussia softly, carefully keeping his body away from the sticky drink, smiling to himself and definitely not watching the Ex-Nation's arse and his he retreated back upstairs.
With a shake of his head England headed for the door.
----
It was the yellow snack. The yellow snack that normally sat on the head of the Red-Eyed Freak and he was sitting on the bed, in clear sight and there was no one to save him. The snack that had been taunting him for years was finally his. Henry flicked his tale, plotting his attack.
----
There was a bucket of ice sitting were his keys should have been. England sighed, confirming that his keys were in fact suspended in the middle. He wasn't entirely certain how to respond; this was childish even for Gilbert. He hesitated a moment, wondering what the consequences of not bring a set of keys would be. Gilbert had probably had a list of things he would have to agree to before letting allowed in, some of which he was certain he wouldn't want to do. The time he had been forced to attend a meeting with a vibrator up his arse sprung to mind (He had learnt quickly not to make bets with Gilbert.)
His other options were limited; the spare key was missing and he didn't really have time to rummage around looking for them - someone had to make it to the meetings on time.
Arthur was on the verge of just leaving it and steeling himself for whatever the consequences might be when it dawned on him. He was England, he was the United Fucking Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland (At least he was when his brothers were out of earshot, they tended to get pissed off when he called himself that.) and he would not be beaten by a bucket of ice.
Taking the steps too at a time he hurried to his storeroom, opening a wardrobe and smiling fondly at what was kept there. Closest too him were a pair of skinny jeans, tight enough to leave nothing to the imagination, and making even France envy him (Oh how he'd loved the seventies). There was also an old Redcoat uniform, a tunic from Queen Elizabeth I time, and about half way along what he was currently searching for.
Re: 1a/?? Still Untitled
At least that had been the plan, but England chose this moment to take a step back towards the table to finish his tea. Prussia, who had effectively pounced on his lover, stumbled, unable to stop careering into an open cupboard.
A bottle of, thankfully almost empty coke fell from the cupboard, successfully spilling it's contents all over the surprised Prussia. He stood looking endearingly confused as the brown drink dripped from his hair, looking to England as if he could solve the problem.
It took effort not to laugh, but he really did love Prussia (Even if he hadn't gathered the courage to say it yet) so for the other's benefit he struggled past the desire, "Why wasn’t there a lid on it?" The question was asked mostly to distract Prussia from the slight curve of his mouth.
Recovering from his moment of shock Prussia grinned back, not even caring to look abashed at spilling the drink over England's floor, "I'm making Gilbird a hat out of it."
Prussia it seemed need to get out more.
"Much as I would love to continue this conversation I have a meeting to go to, tidy this up." He wasn't even sure why he bothered, he was very certain he'd be tidying it up when he got back. Prussia pouted, puppy eyes kicking in, and much to his glee England caved, at least a little bit.
"Go and shower, I'll see you tonight." He kissed Prussia softly, carefully keeping his body away from the sticky drink, smiling to himself and definitely not watching the Ex-Nation's arse and his he retreated back upstairs.
With a shake of his head England headed for the door.
----
It was the yellow snack. The yellow snack that normally sat on the head of the Red-Eyed Freak and he was sitting on the bed, in clear sight and there was no one to save him. The snack that had been taunting him for years was finally his. Henry flicked his tale, plotting his attack.
----
There was a bucket of ice sitting were his keys should have been. England sighed, confirming that his keys were in fact suspended in the middle. He wasn't entirely certain how to respond; this was childish even for Gilbert. He hesitated a moment, wondering what the consequences of not bring a set of keys would be. Gilbert had probably had a list of things he would have to agree to before letting allowed in, some of which he was certain he wouldn't want to do. The time he had been forced to attend a meeting with a vibrator up his arse sprung to mind (He had learnt quickly not to make bets with Gilbert.)
His other options were limited; the spare key was missing and he didn't really have time to rummage around looking for them - someone had to make it to the meetings on time.
Arthur was on the verge of just leaving it and steeling himself for whatever the consequences might be when it dawned on him. He was England, he was the United Fucking Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland (At least he was when his brothers were out of earshot, they tended to get pissed off when he called himself that.) and he would not be beaten by a bucket of ice.
Taking the steps too at a time he hurried to his storeroom, opening a wardrobe and smiling fondly at what was kept there. Closest too him were a pair of skinny jeans, tight enough to leave nothing to the imagination, and making even France envy him (Oh how he'd loved the seventies). There was also an old Redcoat uniform, a tunic from Queen Elizabeth I time, and about half way along what he was currently searching for.