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America was laughing again, the dolt.
England thought this as he gazed at the other nation, and subconsciously noted his shining gold hair and normally sky blue eyes squeezed shut with joy, his wide grin that threatened to split his face in half, his scrunched up nose, his dark lashes and his curved eyebrows… and the fact that he was beautiful.
Further thoughts of gentle touches and sweet words were interrupted by America’s voice, which cut through England’s hazy mind and pulled him back into the moment.
They were close.
Actually, they were very close.
Without really thinking, England leaned even closer, and detected the faint scent of coffee and the outdoors that he liked to associate with America so much. His eyes fluttered closed -- probably a side effect of that closeness -- and then oh, there were his fingers curling around the other nation’s shirt collar, slowly pulling him in--
--that is, until America’s glasses decided to get in the way, digging rather painfully into England’s cheekbone.
He frowned even though America’s laughter, like bubbles, tickled his skin upon every inch of contact.
“You look so upset by an inanimate object,” America pointed out, only causing England’s frown to deepen.
With half-lidded eyes and a low voice, England grasped the frustrating eyewear with one hand and carefully took them off, lifting them over America’s head so that they could be folded up properly on the couch side table. This way he was allowed full access to America’s face, every inch of it now perfectly in reach to be caressed and kissed.
The mere look of innocent adoration America had on his face did nothing to quell England’s unusual bout of affection.
So he leaned in again, eyes closed, and let his lips gently brush over that tanned cheek, and then over the tip of his nose, and lastly, finally, lower and lower until he reached his lips. America exhaled slowly, like he wasn’t quite ready to accept the fact that England was kissing him. A little encouragement with a gentle peck was more than enough.
The two nations lost themselves in each other’s presence, in the shared touches and chaste kisses that filled the air with a warm buzzing feeling. Soon enough, though, both had to part to catch their breaths.
England’s fingers found themselves tangled in America’s hair, consisting of waves of gold that really did look reminiscent of those amber waves of grain.
He took this opportunity to look, really look at America. He appeared slightly different from his usual self without his glasses. His face was still the same slightly round shape, and his lips still looked cute in that half-grin, half-shy-smile. But without his glasses, his eyes were devoid of any cover, and all the emotion and reality expressed in those deep swaths of sky blue were open for all the world to see.
“You have beautiful eyes,” England murmured, leaned in again, and pressed a soft kiss to America’s forehead.
“Uh, thanks?” Was America’s whispered response, and his frantic reply: "A-and so do you. Really. I mean it."
England’s mouth quirked up in a smile.
“There’s no need to feel embarrassed, dear.”
Now it was America’s turn to frown.
“I’m not embarrassed!” he claimed, making a huge show of squeezing his eyes shut and turning his chin up and pretending to be upset.
England only chuckled.
It was no secret that the two nations were close enough to exchange such casual remarks over moments that were so sweet they would leave other nations gagging. No one was more so aware of this fact than England himself, who took great joy in showering his partner with care and affection, especially in private. It was also quite obvious that America cherished these moments more than any other ones, since they symbolized a reversal of the normal exchange, with America being overly affectionate and England more or less accepting that affection.
England looked down at the glasses on the table, and took note of how the light reflected off their lenses from the far side of the room. Really, it was strange how America’s glasses were still an integral part of his existence, especially since they represented a state.
“Hey, England?” America’s voice shook the elder nation out of his thoughts once more.
“Yes?”
“Can we do that again?”
