Boyfriend Scenarios: Hetalia

You Guys Go Camping

Requested by A Writer's Dream

America

You took the spatula and moved the meat on the barbecue.

"Mmm!  Smells good!"  Alfred said.

"Yep, there's nothing like a good barbecue while camping."  You said.  Just then, you guys heard rustling in the bushes.

"W-what was that?"  Alfred asked.  You shrugged.

"It's probably just a rabbit or a squirrel."  You said.  Alfred shook his head.

"N-no, it was probably Bigfoot!"  He said.  You raised an eyebrow.

"Bigfoot?  Really?"  You asked, turning some of the vegetables.

"Yeah, you know, there are tons of witnesses and evidence."  He said.  You rolled your eyes.

"Sure Alfred, then why hasn't it ever been caught and ended up in the zoo?"  You asked.

Alfred was about to answer when the rustling got louder and you both looked over only to hear growling as a huge bear popped out, raising its paw to strike.

"Oh my god!"  You yelled.

"Aww, it's not Bigfoot."  Alfred said, disappointment in his voice as he caught the bear's paw and then threw the bear off like it was nothing.  You watched, dumbstruck as the bear flew off into the distance.

"[name], don't let the food burn."  Alfred said, pouting.  You snapped out of your stupor and shook your head.

'Jeez, he really is just... ugh, forget it, I should be used to this insanity by now,'  You thought as you kept the meat from burning.

England

You sat on one of the large logs near the fire pit, the items needed for smores sitting beside you.  There was only one thing missing...

"Arthur, are you sure you don't want to use the matches?"  You asked, watching as Arthur crouched down beside some wood and kindle in the fire pit, trying to use two sticks to start the fire.

"I'm positive, love,"  He said.  "Remember, I was very involved when the boy scouts first came around, and I was a pirate,"  He said, puffing his chest out.

"I know Arthur but-"

"How many nights would I spend camped out on islands and forts and backwater places where I had to survive on my own, whether by cooking food or by keeping myself warm at night."  Arthur said with pride.  You sighed.

"Then please stop bragging and get back to making the fire, I want smores."  You whined.  Arthur hummed and went back to work.

'I don't think he can do it,'  You thought to yourself after 10 minutes had passed.  'Maybe I should give him a hand,' You thought.

You sneakily moved your hand and muttered a few choice words before you saw it; a small spark in the fire pit, which grew with the smoke.  You jumped up from the seat.

"You did it Arthur!"  You cheered.  "Now we can have smores!"  You said, pulling him to his feet and already getting the marshmallows on the skewers.