yousei-san (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flair) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
metamorphosis2010-05-19 10:16 pm
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2010-05-19 10:16 pm
Entry tags:
105;
Title: Christmas Gift
Characters: Spain, England
Rating: G
It's cold and snowing and getting a little dark, with streetlamps slowly fading on to light the way as they march-march-march in the snow, one step after the other, and England's nose is turning red and it's actually a little cute, Spain thinks, really very cute, because it makes England look like a little kid again, with red and runny noses and an irritable cough and sniffles and demands of hot food. England catches him staring and pulls his coat collar up more, glares at him from under it and a black beret that's a little too big for him and so it falls slightly over his ears and covers his eyebrows, rests snugly there, and asks him what he's staring at. Spain's response is to look away and cover his mouth with a mitten-covered hand and shake his head, shoulders shuddering in mirth, and he only lets a chuckle slip when England shoves into him and skips – skips! - ahead, a frown written on his features. He smiles, and stumbles back towards him and pulls his scarf over his mouth, muffling his voice so much England has to stop him and pull it down, close to him and breath mingling visibly in the air.
“Repeat what you said.”
“I was staring at your nose. It's red.”
“It's cold, Spain.”
Spain makes a noise that sounds like he's agreeing, then unwraps his scarf halfway and pulls England snugly close, wraps it around his neck as well so they're sharing the long, woolly, hand-knitted and warm gift, sharing body heat and air. England flushes in shock (and horror when, to his dismay, he realizes they're under a streetlight and Spain can see the red that tinges his cheeks) but Spain dismisses it as cold and kisses both rosy cheeks awkwardly, takes England's hand-without-a-mitten into his own-with-a-mitten and squeezes it.
“Winter is nice in London, even if it's really, really cold.”
Characters: Spain, England
Rating: G
It's cold and snowing and getting a little dark, with streetlamps slowly fading on to light the way as they march-march-march in the snow, one step after the other, and England's nose is turning red and it's actually a little cute, Spain thinks, really very cute, because it makes England look like a little kid again, with red and runny noses and an irritable cough and sniffles and demands of hot food. England catches him staring and pulls his coat collar up more, glares at him from under it and a black beret that's a little too big for him and so it falls slightly over his ears and covers his eyebrows, rests snugly there, and asks him what he's staring at. Spain's response is to look away and cover his mouth with a mitten-covered hand and shake his head, shoulders shuddering in mirth, and he only lets a chuckle slip when England shoves into him and skips – skips! - ahead, a frown written on his features. He smiles, and stumbles back towards him and pulls his scarf over his mouth, muffling his voice so much England has to stop him and pull it down, close to him and breath mingling visibly in the air.
“Repeat what you said.”
“I was staring at your nose. It's red.”
“It's cold, Spain.”
Spain makes a noise that sounds like he's agreeing, then unwraps his scarf halfway and pulls England snugly close, wraps it around his neck as well so they're sharing the long, woolly, hand-knitted and warm gift, sharing body heat and air. England flushes in shock (and horror when, to his dismay, he realizes they're under a streetlight and Spain can see the red that tinges his cheeks) but Spain dismisses it as cold and kisses both rosy cheeks awkwardly, takes England's hand-without-a-mitten into his own-with-a-mitten and squeezes it.
“Winter is nice in London, even if it's really, really cold.”