Independence Day [USUK]

Chapter 3

>>>>Independence Day: Chapter 3

The next couple of days went on for what felt like ages. They spent their time catching up with things, little arguments here and there [which wasn't unusual] and sitting in silence. Most of the time, America just sat on his phone, randomly laughing at things he saw. England sat with a book he had bought the day before that he had noticed a lot of people had been reading lately, though he didn't find the people's method of keeping peace very effective in the book. America looked from his phone [finally] and his eyes widened. "Aw dude I read those books. Just a warning, the end is going to kill you." he decided it was necessary to point out, tilting his head up. England stared at the younger country with a done-with-your-shit type of look. "Oh, thanks for that." he frowned sarcastically, setting the book down. "Well I mean it's still gooooood don't stop reading now!" America sat up, handing him the book. The Brit laughed and shook his head. "No, it's not that. I just stopped at that chapter because I don't plan to read the, whole thing tonight. I was thinking maybe we can go out somewhere."

"Mmmm...I'm too lazy to go anywhere at this time of night." he sighed, looking at the clock on his phone: 7:14 July 1st.Funny I say that, it's probably 2 o'clock back in the states...

"Well I mean, I guess if you don't want to I could cook us something." England shrugged, crossing his leg over the other and leaning back.

America's eyes widened. "Ohhh noooo that's not necessary. Where are you wanting to go?"

Slightly offended, the other put his elbow on the arm of the chair, holding his head up. "Well, there's this new pub that just opened up down the street..."

Stupid England. Is drinking all he ever does?

"You're going to get drunk."

"I am bloody not!"

"Dude, you always get drunk when we go out to any type of bar or rather any place that serves alcohol!"

"I promise I won't get drunk this time."

The Brit sighed. Heaven knows what I might say I'd say if I did...

Around World War II, the British gentleman had found himself seeing his American ally in another way, as a lover. At first, it wasn't much and he'd usually push off the feeling. But, as the year's past, he felt the emotions to be harder and harder to ignore. He found the American to be irrevocably beautiful and little moments shared between the two began to mean so much more than

before. He could never tell America; he was obviously straight.

"Hmmm...whatever. I guess we can go if you want. But better not getting drunk.

You're a pain in the arse when you drink you know..." America pointed out, standing up from his seat.

"Oh shut it. I already said I wouldn't. Come on then. Let me just grab my jacket."

And with that, America went to do the same, going back upstairs to the Brit's room and taking his sweatshirt out, revealing something he didn't want to unknowingly... and heading out the door.

Later that night...

"Ugghhh...Damn it America..."

"Hnnn..."

"Pick up the pace...you git."

"I'm trrying toooo...Hmph. You'resoooo mean Britain...*hiccup*"

Shockingly, the American was the one who had gotten hopelessly drunk.

Bloody hell... England thought to himself, trying his best to hold up the drunk America on his feet at least until they got back.

Once they had finally gotten back, America wobbled over to the couch and plopped down. "Yew know 'Ngland....? You're reaally cute..." he giggled with a big grin. "Didja know that, Iggyyyy?"

"You're drunk, America." England foldes his arms, propping the younger man up so he wasn't in as awkward of a position. "Soooo? Guesswhaaat?"he continued, his speech quite slurred.

"What is it?" England groaned, straightening out things around the living room.

"I love youuu~"

He froze where he stood, slowly turning his head. He's drunk you idiot. He doesn't mean it.

"America...s-stop. You're...You're drunk. Just go to sleep. I know you're tired."

America pushed himself up and stood in front of the older man. "Wann me to prove it?" he smirked, moving his face in closer to other's. England blushed madly, feeling it difficult to make himself move. Part of him wanted to let it happen, but the other part of him knew the whole situation was wrong to take advantage of.

"S-Stop! I'm going to bed America. Goodnight." He stepped back from him and hurried up the stairs, shutting the door behind him. America frowned, sitting back down and curling up, falling asleep rather quickly.

Though England didn't on the hand. He sat down on his bed, biting his lip to hold back the emotions threatening to reach the surface. "Damn it...why do I do this? Why couldn't I have been the one drunk off my ass. I wouldn't have to deal with th-"

his sentence was cut short when he looked to the American's bag, where a small object stuck out in plain sight. He stood up slowly from the bed and croutched down to pick the small object up. It was a small toy soldier that he had given the other long ago.

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Ooooooh 'Murica what you doing with that? Wellp...Here's chapter 3. Hopefully you like drunk America. Because you're going to love him hung over. I thought it was too typical for England to be the one to get drunk so I thought why not change things up? Remember to vote if you liked and stuff, I really appreciate the feedback. ♡