CH. WINE (2)

Since England had rudely stolen America from their movie the day before, France had spent his day trying to think of something America liked even more than movies. He had to make up for whatever England had done. He eventually decided on something a bit odd. The zoo. To be specific, Central Park Zoo.

He woke up pretty early that day to make sure he could beat England to America's house. At least, that's what he was hoping.

France was not pleased to find that America had not opened the door to his own house, but instead a disheveled England.

"What are you doing here, rosbif?" France snapped.

"I could ask you the same thing," England replied coldly.

"I'm here to see America, thank you very much." France was beginning to wonder if England had stayed the night before. After all, he had woken up quite early that day and did not happen to see England leave the hotel that morning or return the night before.

"I was just about to leave, but now I'm debating on whether or not I should," England told him.

Before France could respond, he noticed America walking down the stairs yawning.

"Hey, Amérique!" France called out and leaned over so America could see him from behind England.

A relieved look reached America's face. What did England do?

"Oh, hey France, come on in," America invited.

"Actually, I was thinking you'd like to join me on a trip to the zoo," France offered a dashing grin.

"Sweet!" America exclaimed. He then shot England a nervous glance.

"Er... would you.. um.. like to join?" he politely asked. It seemed more like a pity invite than anything else. France was relieved. There was no way America and England did anything last night with how distant America was acting.

Right as England looked like he was considering it, France jumped in, "Oh, I'm so sorry dear Angleterre, but I'm afraid I only have two tickets." England raised an obnoxiously thick eyebrow.

"Can't I just buy another once we're there? Besides, how did you already get tick-"

"Oh my, look at the time! Let's go, Amérique." America gave him a confused look.

"But the zoo doesn't open unti-" he was cut off by France looping his arm through his and dragging him out the door.

"Why is everyone so grabby lately?" America complained. France ignored him and flagged down a taxi.

Instead of giving America personal space, France sat directly in the middle seat, brushing him up against America. America didn't seem to notice.

"France, I have a question," America said warily.

"Yes?"

"Is something wrong with England? Has he been acting... strange.. lately?" America asked.

France gave him a fake shrug.

"I haven't noticed a thing, Amérique, but Angleterre has always been a strange little island nation," he lied. America just nodded in agreement and said nothing more on the topic.

Once they arrived at the zoo, America completely forgot about whatever England had done the night before. He immediately began to act like a child trying ice cream for the first time.

"Where do you wanna go first? I wanna see the eagles and the penguins and the pandas and the..." America spoke so rapidly that France could hardly understand him.

"What do you want to see first?" France asked, peering at the map of the zoo.

America paused in his monologue and glanced down at France's face. He thought for a minute then closed his eyes. France looked at him with curiosity. Was this some weird American way of choosing? The explanation France received was America slamming his pointer finger down on a random place on the map.

He opened his eyes and laughed happily when he saw the irony. The Bald Eagle. On their way over to the habitat, France was continuing what he had been doing in the cab. Standing a bit too close to America. Yet again, America was too dense to even notice.

A proud look was plastered onto America's face as he gazed upon his Nation's bird. France could have sworn he saw a gleam of recognition in the eagle's yellow eye. France himself couldn't help but smile at America's expression. He quickly turned away and looked back at the Eagle when America noticed. It was just so odd. He had never seen America look at something like that.

"What's next on the agenda?" America asked, not wanting to linger. He was determined to see every animal in that zoo.

"You pick again."

"Nah, dude, I already picked! Now it's your turn!" America handed him the map with a smile. France gratefully took the map and imitated what America had done to choose earlier.

His result was the petting zoo.

The petting zoo itself wasn't very large and it didn't have a variety of animals- but it was pretty damn fun. America and France couldn't get over the softness of the sheep. I

"Its fur is so ratty looking.. how is it soft?" France asked the question like knowing the answer could end world hunger. The sheep actually did look kind of nasty. It's fur was all knotty and coated in dirt and old dung, to the point where it's once-white fur was now an ugly brown.

"We now have sheep feces on our hands," France said with disgust. America laughed and jokingly acted like he was going to wipe his hands on France's coat. Out of instinct, France jerked and ended up with America actually wiping it on his jaw. France stood there silently for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. America's mouth dropped open.

"Oh, god, I'm so sorry," he stuttered out. France opened his mouth to speak, before closing it again and shaking his head slightly. America, in an attempt to make France feel better, took his clean hand, wiped the feces off of France's face, and smeared it onto his own.

"See? Now we both have sheep shit on us!" he declared loudly, only to have a few angry mothers shush him and begin to move their children to another section.

Instead of being normal nations and going to the bathroom to clean the feces off, they continued to walk around the petting zoo for a little longer. That is, until they came across the donkeys.

"A spotted ass?" France read the title on the stables out loud. The brown and white-splotched donkeys were occupying a corner of the petting zoo. One of the donkeys trotted up to the fence happily and stood by it sideways, waiting for the usual petting it would receive. America leaned over the fence and began to pet it.

"This ass is surprisingly soft," America snickered.

"I want to touch the ass too!" France joined in on America's little joke.

"Touch the ass with me, France." The two were getting some very furious looks from nearby parents.

The donkey looked so content, if only it could understand what they were saying... It's eyes drifted closed and it rubbed its head against their hands.

"The ass is quite furry, don't you agree?" France was letting his inner immaturity come out at that moment.

"Hey, you two, knock it off!" a zoo employee called over from the chicken pen.

"I'd say that you're being quite an ass, but you don't act anything like this little guy!" America said, gesturing towards the donkey.

"Seriously, last warning," the man growled.

"You know, Bill, you're being very ASSertive today! Usually you're the quiet type."

And with that, their little venture to the petting zoo ended rather abruptly and their walk to the bathroom began.

"We should probably wash the ass off our hands.." America said, holding back a smile. That's when the two absolutely lost it. Both of them were on the floor, covered in sheep feces, clutching their stomachs laughing. Like France's first day with America, he completely forgot about the game. Little tears were forming in the corners of their eyes from laughing so hard.

Once they both regained their ability to breath, they continued onward to the bathroom.

"Before we wash up, maybe we should hit a few more exhibits?" France suggested. America didn't protest and they went on to the primate one.

There were about seven monkeys dangling from the top of their cage. There was a line that had, "WARNING: SPLASH ZONE" written all over it, but the two didn't pay any attention and ran right up to the cage.

"Oh, gross, that one in the corner is peeing!" America snorted and pointed. France started giggling at it.

"Hey, it's coming over here." The monkey began to swing over while continuing to urinate. Because it was swinging, some of the urine was being projectiled over to them. That's when the "SPLASH ZONE" warning would've come in handy for them to have read. America saw it coming before it happened and leaped back, leaving France in the line of fire.

France repeated his actions earlier by standing there in horror of what had just happened to his poor. beautiful face.

"Hey, buddy, you got a little something on your face.." America started, laughing so hard he snorted. His laugh turned into a shriek as a monkey decided that he deserved something too and flung its feces at him.

This time, it was France's turn to laugh. America tried to hold the glare on his face, but couldn't help it.

"Maybe it's time we go wash up now, don't you think?" America offered with a smile. France nodded in agreement.

The cab ride back to America's was absolutely disgusting. The poor taxi driver was trying not to gag at the awful smell. It was even worse smelling for America and France. They basically had to sit in their own stench. So needless to say, both were quite relieved when America's house showed up.

"There's a shower in the basement you can use, if you want. Sorry, I only have one upstairs," America told France as he was unlocking the door.

"As I do not want to return to my hotel room reeking, I think I'll take you up on that offer."

America opened his mouth, probably about to say something witty, but closed it. France's eyes wandered over to what had shut America up.

"Oh, good evening," England said from his seat on the couch where he was nestled with some tea and a burnt crisp that France could only assume was supposed to be a scone.

"...England, why are you still here?" America finally asked after an awkward pause, during which he had expected England to at least offer up some excuse but was denied any sort of explanation.

"I wanted to apologize again for last night, so I decided to surprise you with scones," England said, offering a plate of charred food towards him. America chuckled uneasily and set the plate aside, careful not to touch a single scone.

"That's a nice gesture, England, but maybe we should have this conversation some other time," America tried to be as polite as possible. England's face tinted pink.

"Er, yeah, of course.."England glanced down, then up, giving America a strange look.

"Before I leave, can you enlighten me on whatever that is on your face?" England asked. America's eyes met France's as he responded, keeping a deadpan expression.

"We got shitfaced." England's eyes widened.

"Isn't the drinking age in your country twenty-one? If I'm remembering correctly, your human age is only nineteen?" England questioned. France was snickering.

"Yes, but we did not drink. We got shitfaced." England's gargantuan eyebrows furrowed as he tried to make sense of what America had said. He grimaced at the sound of France's obnoxious laughter.

"Ah, I see that I'm not going to get a formal response here. That must be my cue to leave," England stood up and dropped the blanket he had stolen from America's room onto the couch.

"Good day to you.. gentlemen.." the two could see him struggle as he forced out the last word.

Neither said a word, just watched him leave.

"That was incredibly weird," America commented after the door slammed shut. France jumped a little when the loud noise echoed through the house.

"He seemed kind of angry," France said.

"I did just kind of tell him to leave while he was apologizing," America glanced down at the floor with guilt.

"What was he apologizing for, anyway?" France asked. America debated on whether or not to tell him for a second. After a moment of silence, he remembered that despite how freaky England had been acting, the last thing he would want would be for America to tell anyone, especially not France.

"Oh, it was nothing. He just broke one of my games," America lied, not looking France in the eye. France knew he was lying, but decided not to push it.

"Um...so, the stairs are here, when you go down the shower is in the first room on the left," America said, leading him over to the stairs. France nodded, and was just about to go down when America stopped him.

"Wait, do you have any spare clothes on you? I can bring you down some clothes from my room if you need them." America offered. After France told him that no, he actually hadn't planned ahead for getting animal waste all over his clothes, America went upstairs and grabbed his smallest pair of sweatpants and a Marvel t-shirt that was probably much too big for France.

As France was walking down the stone stairs, he smiled a little to himself. The day actually had been pretty fun, even if he did happen to have sheep and monkey waste all over him.