Splendid Happenstance

AmericaxEngland

Warnings for Mpreg, and also the rating might go up in later chapters!

The almost-silence of the old English countryside was deafening to America. When England had suggested he move in with him, America had been residing in a small condo in Miami. Even after two decades of living in the small cottage, he still wasn't used to the calming sounds of the wind blowing softly over the grass and through the hills. There was a slight overcast, but it would be gone by the afternoon. The distant, light sound of Goldfinches singing practically resonated for miles. The early mist crept slowly across the immense grass field, slowly starting to dissipate as the sun started to ascend upwards. America took a swig of his coffee from his mug as he stood at the gate of the cottage and watched a rabbit race across England's land.

He enjoyed these quiet mornings when England slept in and he woke up early. He rarely did it, but when England did, America enjoyed having enough time to get a little fresh air and make a (non-toxic) breakfast for England and himself. This morning he had already prepared the pancakes and had decided now would be the right time to step outside to take a break. As America finished his coffee, he said goodbye to the outdoors and stepped back inside.

"Morning."

America jumped and glanced behind him. It was just England.

"Oh jeeze, morning! Don't scare me like that I..." America trailed off as he noticed the mixing bowl in England's hands.

"Um. England. Wha'cha got there?" He asked nervously.

"This? Oh, you only made half a dozen pancakes and well... I woke up really hungry so, I apologize, but I ate half of those. I thought I would make some more," England replied holding up the bowl, not picking up on America's apparent anxiety.

"Well that was kind of you, Sweetie, but, yah know all you had to do was ask me to make some more and-"

"Look, I ate them," England interrupted, "I decided to replace them. Easy as that. Now I am all done mixing the batter, so these will be done soon. Just go set the table."

England walked out of the sitting room, ending that conversation. America sighed. England would most likely burn his batch of pancakes, so it would be easy to tell his and England's apart. But America would still have to play the good boyfriend role and eat at least two of his pancakes. America was a good boyfriend; he could do this he assured himself.

America walked into the kitchen and gathered the tableware. England stood at the stove in a cute white apron. America smirked and looked away. It was cute how his boyfriend tried to act like a master cook, "keep dreamin' bud" America laughed to himself. Still smirking, America went into the dining room to set the table. When he was done he came back into the kitchen, watching England stare intently at the project of the century, his cooking.

Walking up to him, America slipped his arms around England's waist and gave him a peck on the cheek, "I never got a good morning kiss."

"And you won't get one until you eat my pancakes," England grumbled.

America smiled and placed his chin in the crook of England's neck, "You should really flip that one now."

England listened to America and flipped the pancake, and thankfully too, because it was just starting to look a little too brown.

"What are you, the 'Pancake-Possy'? I can handle these all by myself, thank you," England said.

"Just trying to help, Sweetie-Pie. You need to be a hero to cook up some good pancakes. Mattie's a hero for that reason!"

England sighed and shook his head, "Your brother has more heroic qualities than being able to make pancakes. Just go make me some tea for me."

America gave England a peck on the neck, "Sure, I'll go make you your rancid leaf water," he said, grinning devilishly. England scoffed and hip-bumped America away from him. Snickering, America went over to the cabinet. Grabbing the tea kettle, he filled it up with water and popped it on the stove next to England's pancakes.

England glanced over at America. Looking over also, America smiled at brightly at England, radiating sunshine. England looked back over at his pancakes and smiled softly.

Then it hit like a freight train.

England was out of the room and in the bathroom at record speeds. Hunched over the toilet, he heaved the pancakes up and let out a couple sick, wet coughs. America was there a second later.

He patted England's back and stood up to grab a washcloth. He stooped down next to him again.

"You okay there, buddy?" America said, concerned. This wasn't the first time England had gone running to the bathroom in the past week.

"Just fine, a little uneasy, but I feel a little better. I think I'm all done," England wheezed out, wiping his mouth with the washcloth and throwing it over into the sink. America gathered England up and led him to the nearest sofa in the sitting room. The tea kettle started to shriek.

"What can I do for you? Are you hungry? Thirsty? Cold? I could-"

"You could take that bloody kettle off the stove!" England snapped. America ran into the kitchen and turned off the stove, noting that England's pancakes had, as expected from the beginning, burned. America, wanting to deliver England his tea quickly, just grabbed a tea bag and threw it into the cup, pouring in the steaming water. Carefully, but still rushing, America carried the tea into England and placed it on the table in front of him.

"I didn't ask for any bloody tea..." England muttered angrily, picking the cup up and blowing over the top anyway.

America sat across from England. He noted England's paled complexion and light sweat, but there was no reason for that other than the puking. He seemed to be fine excluding the puking.

"Arthur, I'm worried about you," America said.

"I'm fine, I'm fine! Please, it'll pass. I've most likely caught a bug of some sort. I'll be fine in a day or so."

"You said that yesterday after I found you hunched over the toilet mid-afternoon," America looked at the window and watched the clouds and mist continue to dissipate, "Point is, it's been a week and this hasn't seemed to get any better."

"I. Am. Fine. Please, I'll be over this in no time. It's just a little upset stomach. I'll be fine," England said, "Please, can we have breakfast?"

And so breakfast continued. England barely managed to finish half of his, and like the good boyfriend America was, he managed to choke down the burnt pancake that England insisted was perfectly fine. All breakfast, America kept sneaking glances at England. What was wrong with him? Was he okay? He hoped so, he had a hard time admitting it, but England meant so much to him, he could hardly bare to see him in discomfort.

England had to run to the nearest town to pick up their weekly groceries. It was a fair-sized town, with plenty of pleasant citizens and a small mom-and-pop store England preferred to get his food from. As he entered the store, England nodded to the bored looking teenager behind the counter. The teen looked up from his magazine and nodded back to him before turning back to his reading material.

He grabbed a basket and made his way through the aisles, grabbing various commodities before he found himself in the health and beauty aisle. He could never pass by the condoms and lube without blushing, but this time something caught his eye.

Pregnancy tests. A buy one get one free sale.

For a split second, the thought crossed his mind. The constant puking, the feeling crappy constantly, the soreness he was feeling...

It couldn't be though. That was a ridiculous idea.

Stupid.

Impossible.

But what if...

Looking back at the boxes, be couldn't help but wonder. He wasn't really human, so just what it was possible?

Without thinking anymore, England grabbed two of the boxes in front of him and tossed them into the basket, hiding them underneath the lettuce and tomatoes. After it was a two for one sale who in the right mind would pass up such a steal? He then went up the counter, unloading his basket. He tried to ignore the poorly hidden chuckle that escaped the teenager when he picked up and tests and rung them up. Vehemently avoiding eye contact, England paid for his groceries and hurried the hell out of there, now extremely curious and eager to get to a bathroom.

America had finished the work his boss had sent him, so now he was free for the afternoon to lay around and watch some good ol' American football. England had been kind enough to request a way for America to watch his precious sport, and America was grateful that sometimes England removed the stick from his ass and would tolerate it being on in his presence. He wasn't sure how he would feel not being able to get his fix during the season.

Although he tried his best to focus on the game, America's mind kept wondering: How was England? Was he really okay? What if he wasn't? He started to panic. What if he was dying? What if he had passed out on his way to get groceries and was now laying face-down in a puddle? Drowning in a puddle would be totally uncool! How would he even tell other people what happened?

Relax, America told himself. England would be fine. He was right. It was just a bug or something, just like he had said.

England would be fine.

England was panicking.

No way.

No fucking way.

Standing in a stall at the bus station's bathroom, England stared at the first test's results.

This had to be a joke, right?

The tests had to be faulty. That's why they were on sale, because they were faulty.

The second test would reveal its results any second now, and England could hardly breathe as he waited.

Glancing out the window, America saw England making his way to the front gate. He smiled. He was so lucky to have such an amazing boyfriend. Although he liked to hide his feelings, England was loving, caring, and beautiful in his own incredible way. America could only hope he was half the boyfriend to England as England was to him.

England opened the door to their cottage and America got up to help him put away the groceries.

Giving him a kiss of the forehead, America grabbed the bags away from England, "Howdy, Sweet-Pea! How was the trip?"

"Fine," England replied, avoiding looking at America directly.

America picked up on it instantly. Something was up, but he knew England wouldn't spill until he was ready.

But that didn't America wouldn't try anyway.

Making their way to the kitchen, America placed the bags on the counter, "So... Anything interesting happen?" His smoothness was only exceeded by his subtlety.

England started pulling out the dairy products and placing them in the fridge, "No. Same old same old."

America could see this definitely wouldn't be easy, "Meet anyone interesting? How are you feeling? Any better than this morning?" America questioned, bombarding England with questions.

England didn't answer. Concerned, America looked over to see him staring off into space.

"Uh, PISSSHHT Earth to Artie, this is Space Commander Al calling in, do you read?" England's head snapped up.

"Oh sorry," he paused, "Can we talk? After we put these away, obviously," England said.

Concerned now, America nodded his head, "Sure, if that's what you want," he said, rushing to help put the groceries away quickly. Soon they were sitting across from each other at the dining room table.

With a nervous grin, "Soooo, what's up?" America drawled. "Oh this can't be good he's shiverin' more than a dog shittin' peach pits"

England looked up at him, and then back down at his hands.

"Look, I really have no idea how to say this, so I'm just going to come out with it," he said.

America waited with baited breath.

"I believe I'm pregnant," England said.

(A.N.: DUN DUN DUNNNNN.

Thank you so much for reading! ^-^ If you'd be so kind, would you mind reviewing? I'd like to improve on my writting in any way I can! Thank you~!)