fic: Tarts
Feb. 11th, 2010 03:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: Tarts
Series: Hetalia
Character/Pairing: America/England a bit. Also, America has a mancrush on James Bond.
Rating: PG-13?
Word count: 621
Author's note: - Axis Powers Hetalia, America/England (or any other two countries): accent fetish or language fetish - every word you say sounds sexy to me. I suppose I should thank Reo as she talked me through this, convinced me I didn't suck and well. Got me in here.
Wordplay, uh. Most people know this, but for any who don't:
A tart is a desert in America. It's a slut/whore/a loose woman who puts out in England.
Biscuits refer to cookies in England, but they're...biscuits over here. Thicker, more suitable with Chili than tea.
And you really should know what knickers means, right?
*
America liked movies about guns and warfare, so it was only fitting that one day, a long time after the events of WWII, he would find the movies of James Bond particularly compelling. The action, the smoothness were all appealing, but it was the accent that always got him. And that sometimes, he recognized that accent in England. Over tea, with his leg crossed. England always gave him the worst china, because he'd broken three cups and two saucers already. It was like England had set aside the worst of himself right for America.
"Lessons!" America said. "I need English lessons!"
"You speak English," England said, a bit perplexed.
"No, I don't! I speak American. I don't know what these– these– what are these?"
America lifted up a dessert of some kind. He lifts it with two fingers, as if it might bite him.
"...A biscuit?"
"Biscuit?" America frowned. "This doesn't look anything like a biscuit. Biscuits are...crunchy. And served with other things than tea."
A tic started at the corner of England's cheek, but he wasn't yelling, at least, not yet.
"And this?" America pointed. It was a fruit treat of some sort. Perfect with tea. "Probably a tart..."
The thing was, said treat was in England's hand at the moment. It would be hard pressed for anyone to tell whether he was pointing at the dessert or England himself. England quivered in rage.
"A tart? A tart? Of all the things to call me you... you idiot!
England pursed his lips for a moment, blew on his tea and then threw it in America's face. He then stomped out, only stopping once to call back.
"Jeeves will see you out."
America wiped at his face with his manly hanky of manliness. He lifted it, damp and lacy and monogrammed and not nearly as awesome as his flag hanky with an eagle and gun hanky has been. How had he gotten England's hanky again? Or was it a Handkerchief over here? Silly England and its weird foreign language.
He'd heard France mention something about 'getting into one's knickers'. When he'd asked for (demanded) a translation, France had laughed in his face, and said that he should consider the source. And then he groped him.
All he'd really wanted to do was hear England talk a bit more. And maybe visualize him in as James Bond, complete with suits and awesome guns. Or not. James Bond really did pull off those shorts well....
He made a mental note to come tomorrow when England had cooled off and ask. And then offer to go hunting together...even if England wore weird clothes to do so, at least they found something where they could both come together: the joy of shooting things.
And it wouldn't be an apology, because America didn't do apologies, but it'd be something and England wouldn't be mad at him anymore over weird things.
Right after he found out what 'getting into one's knickers' meant.
Series: Hetalia
Character/Pairing: America/England a bit. Also, America has a mancrush on James Bond.
Rating: PG-13?
Word count: 621
Author's note: - Axis Powers Hetalia, America/England (or any other two countries): accent fetish or language fetish - every word you say sounds sexy to me. I suppose I should thank Reo as she talked me through this, convinced me I didn't suck and well. Got me in here.
Wordplay, uh. Most people know this, but for any who don't:
A tart is a desert in America. It's a slut/whore/a loose woman who puts out in England.
Biscuits refer to cookies in England, but they're...biscuits over here. Thicker, more suitable with Chili than tea.
And you really should know what knickers means, right?
*
America liked movies about guns and warfare, so it was only fitting that one day, a long time after the events of WWII, he would find the movies of James Bond particularly compelling. The action, the smoothness were all appealing, but it was the accent that always got him. And that sometimes, he recognized that accent in England. Over tea, with his leg crossed. England always gave him the worst china, because he'd broken three cups and two saucers already. It was like England had set aside the worst of himself right for America.
"Lessons!" America said. "I need English lessons!"
"You speak English," England said, a bit perplexed.
"No, I don't! I speak American. I don't know what these– these– what are these?"
America lifted up a dessert of some kind. He lifts it with two fingers, as if it might bite him.
"...A biscuit?"
"Biscuit?" America frowned. "This doesn't look anything like a biscuit. Biscuits are...crunchy. And served with other things than tea."
A tic started at the corner of England's cheek, but he wasn't yelling, at least, not yet.
"And this?" America pointed. It was a fruit treat of some sort. Perfect with tea. "Probably a tart..."
The thing was, said treat was in England's hand at the moment. It would be hard pressed for anyone to tell whether he was pointing at the dessert or England himself. England quivered in rage.
"A tart? A tart? Of all the things to call me you... you idiot!
England pursed his lips for a moment, blew on his tea and then threw it in America's face. He then stomped out, only stopping once to call back.
"Jeeves will see you out."
America wiped at his face with his manly hanky of manliness. He lifted it, damp and lacy and monogrammed and not nearly as awesome as his flag hanky with an eagle and gun hanky has been. How had he gotten England's hanky again? Or was it a Handkerchief over here? Silly England and its weird foreign language.
He'd heard France mention something about 'getting into one's knickers'. When he'd asked for (demanded) a translation, France had laughed in his face, and said that he should consider the source. And then he groped him.
All he'd really wanted to do was hear England talk a bit more. And maybe visualize him in as James Bond, complete with suits and awesome guns. Or not. James Bond really did pull off those shorts well....
He made a mental note to come tomorrow when England had cooled off and ask. And then offer to go hunting together...even if England wore weird clothes to do so, at least they found something where they could both come together: the joy of shooting things.
And it wouldn't be an apology, because America didn't do apologies, but it'd be something and England wouldn't be mad at him anymore over weird things.
Right after he found out what 'getting into one's knickers' meant.
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no subject
Date: 2010-05-12 10:04 am (UTC)