AHH THIS IS TO CLICHE PLEASE KILL ME
It's sad that this is all I could come up with but whatever.
I'm literally the most unoriginal being on the planet
Cough Couch Cough
"Ugh...I feel terrible." A certain blonde American mumbled to no one in particular. He rolled over onto his stomach and buried his face into his pillow. America was currently sick with something that he swore was the flu, but it was really just a bad cold. He rolled over again to face the (fat) fluffy cat on his right, named Hero, who was staring at him with wide blue eyes.
"Maybe I should call Iggy..."
Hero looked back at him curiously.
"No, I'm the hero! I can do this myself!" He tried to exclaim. He failed and it turned into a coughing fit. Hero looked back at him again with eyes that seemed to tell him to call his boyfriend.
"I guess I do need some help..." He sighed dejectedly. "Maybe I can tell him to bring his demonic cat-I mean Crumpet over for you?" He smiled weakly at the fluffy cat who was purring at the mention of the other cat. The American smiled and rolled over slowly to pick up the phone. After a few beeps, the phone picked up.
"Hello, love." A British accent greeted him.
"Hey Ig-" Cue another coughing fit.
"Are you alright over there?"
"No. I mean yeah. Well, kind of. I got sick with pneumonia I think."
Click
"Did he seriously just hang up on me? Rude!" America whined and buried his face back in his pillow.
About 10 minutes later, he heard the front door open. He panicked for a split second before he heard a meow, and then another, and then a hiss, then scratching and more hissing.
Typical of the two cats. Then it clicked. 'Iggy?'
"Alfred?"
"Iggy!" America really wanted to run up and hug the Brit, but he didn't have the strength. He broke down coughing again, causing England to rush over to the bedside.
"Are you alright?"
"Yea, I swear I'm dying though." He said sarcastically, rolling over onto his side.
"You said something about pneumonia..." England trailed off. Worry was evident in his voice. "Are you sure you're okay?" He reached out to take the American's hand in his.
"Aw dude I was just kidding! I'm pretty sure it's just a cold." He assured the Brit, squeezing his hand.
"A...cold?" England repeated. "Bloody hell America! You could have told me that instead of saying you have a sickness that people die of!"
"S-Sorry..."
England leaned over to place a soft kiss on the blonde's forehead.
"You worry me too much, you git." He said, almost affectionately.
"Nice to know you were worried about me~" America teased.
"S-Shut up..."
America chuckled at the blush on the Brit's face, but immediately starting hacking up his lungs again.
"Ah, hold on. I'll be right back." England left the room and came back a minute later with a glass of ice cold water. "Here, love." America propped himself up and took the glass, gulping down at least half of it.
"Thanks~" He cooed. England smiled at him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"How long have you been sick?"
"Since last night."
"And you waited until now to call me?"
"You probably would have told me to go to bed and leave you alone or something."
"You know I would have helped you anyway right?"
"Yea...I guess..."
"Were you just too proud to admit that you needed help?" England smirked.
"N-No."
"Mhm. Sure." England smirked. His smile faded once America starting to cough again.
"God my throat really hurts." America whined. The Briton really hated seeing America sick. Well, he hated seeing the American anything less than happy, but he hated it most when he was suffering, even if it was just a cold.
"We should check you're temperature." England stated, placing a hand on his forehead. "Ah! Alfred you're burning up!" He scurried out of the room to get the thermometer.
"Iggy I'm fine, you don't need t-MPH!"
"Yes I do. Now shut up and cooperate." England said, placing (read: shoving) the thermometer in his mouth. He pulled it out when it was ready. "See?" He turned it around to show the sick American. "102. That's really high, love." He stated, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Yea, yea whatever." America rolled his eyes and took a sip of water, trying to hide the blush on his face.
"There's nothing wrong with being sick, you know."
"Yea but..." The blonde trailed off and mumbled the last part of his sentence.
"But?"
"I...uh..." He sighed. "I don't like looking weak in front of you, okay?" He admitted bashfully. "I'm the hero right? Heroes aren't weak! I can't be your hero if I'm sick!" He coughed roughly again. "See? Proves my point."
"Aw..." England couldn't help but coo. America was just too adorable! "That's adorable. Too bad you're completely wrong."
"What do you mean?"
"You're always my hero. Sick or not, okay?" America started grinning like a dork.
"You really mean it?"
"I do."
"Yay!" Cue another coughing fit. "Augh now my head hurts to..."
England smiled at him sympathetically. "You need some rest."
"I am really tired..."
"Try to get some sleep then." He said, getting up from the bed. "I'll be downstairs if you need anything okay?" He walked over to the door and pulled it open.
"Wait!" America stopped him. The Brit looked back curiously.
"C-Can...can you stay here? At least until I fall asleep?"
England smiled softly. "Of course." Instead of sitting where he was before, he kicked off his shoes and crawled under the covers next to the tired blonde, snuggling into his chest.
"Won't you get sick to?"
England looked up at him and blinked, before leaning up to gently kiss him full on the lips.
"Do I look like I care?"
America grinned. "Apparently not~" He yawned, and draped an arm over the Brit, pulling him close.
"Thanks for taking care of me." He whispered, nuzzling into England's hair.
"Anytime, love. Anytime."
