I felt like writing somethin' cute.
So, here's the BTT times (Before Tiny Texas times):
America walked through his front door, wanting to collapse in the entryway and sleep until the morning sun came back to wake him. He weakly let his book-bag fall to the floor, and dragged himself towards the kitchen. Mexico had his dinner laid out on the kitchen counter, and as America sat down to eat, Mexico untied his husband's tie and massaged his tense shoulders.
"Is there anything you need?" Mexico asked. America just shook his head, his voice caught behind his sore throat. Mexico nodded, as he placed a mug of coffee by America's plate, which America was picking at slowly and sleepily. America took a long sip of the hot coffee, not minding the burn, as it soothed his throat.
"How was your day?" He spoke at last. Mexico smiled weakly.
"I finished the pizza oven in my client's yard," Mexico said. America nodded.
"Very good... He paid you well, right?" America asked. Mexico smiled once more, sadly shaking his head.
"He insisted that he would not give an upfront payment, and would only pay once the work was complete... once we finished construction, he.... he decided he would not give payment at all..... All of the supplies I used, the resources, the labor..... all of it was my own... the payment would have covered all of the expenses I had made....," Mexico said shakily. America frowned.
"Oh honey.... what did you do? Surely he can't legally refuse to pay you!" America exclaimed. Mexico looked down, but his solemn expression suddenly turned playful.
"He didn't own the oven until he properly paid for all that went into it.... Without payment, all of it was still mine...," Mexico said. America was silent for a moment, but a smile grew on his face in realization.
"And as it was still your oven...," America started.
"...It was fully within my right to destroy it," Mexico said. The couple smiled at one another, before cracking up. However, this laughter melted into sobbing. Sure, they weren't particularly sad, nor did they consider Mexico destroying an oven tragic. The cause of this emotional bout was simple; They were exhausted. They were stressed. But most satisfying of all, they were finally home. At home, nobody could tell them to quiet down their laughter, or wipe away their tears. At home, they could finally let go of all emotions built up inside. At home, they were finally at peace. The couple stumbled to bed and undressed, and simply embraced under the covers as they continued to giggle and weep. America finally felt his mind settle, but kept his eyes cracked open as he heard his husband continue to weep.
"Mexico," America breathed, keeping him close to his chest.
"Amor....I don't know if I want this anymore," Mexico whispered. America's mind immediately began to race, assuming the worst.
"Mex, what do you mean?" America asked, suddenly wide awake.
"It's just... Every day is the same... Every night ends the same way... I feel like I'm in a machine... everything has to function the same way every single day and.... I'm sick of it. I don't want to stop loving you, or quit my job, or live a careless life.... I don't mean to come across that way... but living like this is just driving me insane... I have been thinking... we sh-should...," Mexico stuttered. America's heart raced, dreading that Mexico would say 'take a relationship break' or 'experiment with an open relationship' or something drastic. However, Mexico cleared his throat, trying to find the right words.
"I want to raise a child... with you," Mexico said. America gasped in relief, embracing Mexico, glad to know his husband trusted him enough to even suggest such a large shift in their relationship.
