Heartbeats USUK part 2

Thunder cackled above the house and shook the walls, making the whole place tremble with each booming rumble. America, still very much afraid of thunderstorms, rubbed his hands together wearily.

Although he wasn't a pathetic sniveling mass of cowardice anymore, even the gentlest cracks of thunder or dimmest bolts of lightning would have his heart racing and eyes darting nervously.

His fingers and toes twitched unconsciously, begging and pleading for him to escape into the sanctuary of Arthur's room like he had when he was younger. Of course there was no way he would or could ever comply.

Arthur was here merely on business, not leisure! It was be extremely rude, not to mention slightly embarrassing, if Alfred showed up and asked to share a room just because he was afraid of a little storm. How could he ever call himself a hero when he couldn't even stand one measly storm without breaking into a cold sweat?

An unexpected burst of lightning startled the young nation, causing a series of chain reactions with tangled sheets and dangling feet, which ended up with him on the floor and a loud BANG reverberating throughout the house.

"Oh crap! I hope Britain didn't hear that…," he mumbled half-heartedly to himself.

Alas, fate was against him that dreadful night for the gentle drum of bare feet padded softly down the hall and stopped right outside his door.

As if on cue, a quiet knocking sounded and the doorknob jiggled franticly. The door swung open, revealing a rather disheveled looking England.

"America! I heard a crash. Are you all right?"

"Y-Yeah!  Totally! It was probably just the thunder. You should go back to bed and stop your needless worrying dude. It'll make you look older than you are, though….you are pretty old dude!"

"Oh shut it you wanker," England snapped.

America laughed unconvincingly, causing England to rethink the others entire message, not just the blatant insult.

"If it was just thunder…then why are you on the floor America?"

"Um…" he stammered, "its way nicer down here dude! You should try sleeping on the floor too! Totally does like epic wonders for your back. And what with you being so freaking old…"

"You're a prat. Also, you're a terrible liar."

America hopped to his unstable feet and feigned horror.

"Am not! I'm an amazing liar!" He paused, assessing the damage he had done to the supposed validity of his lies. "But that doesn't matter 'cause  I'm totally not lying!"

Another round of violent thunder and lightning forced America to yelp before he could stop himself. He then cursed audibly, apologizing, for he had 'stubbed his toe'.

"Riiight." England eyes the younger nation doubtfully. Memories that had long since been forgotten were resurfacing steadily.

A tear stained face, soft whimpers, and the meager heat of another small body as it  clung desperately to his own.

He had forgotten momentarily of America's long standing fear of storms and the same need to comfort the poor lad was now pushing strongly against the longing to go back to bed alone.

"Anyway…the other reason I came in here was…because…I think there's something wrong with my room!"

"Wait…what?"

"It's much too cold, therefore, I'm formally requesting I be relocated to another room with more reasonable temperatures," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Hold on-"

"What don't you understand? My room is cold, I want another one."

"But I-"

"This room is nice and comfortable. I think I'll stay here."

"Dude!"

England strutted over to the bed and flopped down heavily.

"Yes, I do believe this will do quite nicely."

"You can't just take my bed!"

"Why not? I am your guest, aren't I?"

"Well yes, but where am I going to sleep now?" The American glared angrily at the smirking Englishman.

"You said you liked the floor," he sneered sarcastically.

"Well…now I don't! So get out or scoot over."

Arthur smiled to himself as he attempted to make room for the much longer man who was squeezing in next to him. His plan appeared to going swimmingly and the other had no idea!

"…Hey…England?"

"What? I'm trying to sleep you know!"

"Thank you…"

"I don't know why you're thanking me. I just wanted a better room than the dump you left me in."

America wasn't a naïve child anymore. He could understand what England was doing for him and he appreciated it immensely.

Still…it didn't stop him for hogging all the blankets that night, effectively angering the Englishman, causing him to regret his actions.