Double Trouble
By: Verin Mystal
Summary: Alfred invites Arthur to the Consumer Electronics's show in Las Vegas. On their last night in town, they are accidentally turned into children.
Note: This was originally written for two requests on the Kink Meme. This fic is full of crack and is not meant to be taken seriously. With that said, I hope someone out there enjoys it. I own nothing but the crack filled ideas of this story.

*****

It was hot. Wait… that was an understatement. It was hotter than any place he'd ever been to before.

… And I've been nearly all over the world.

England winced as he walked out of the large entrance full of lights, glamour and tinted windows. Something that seemed to be an absolute necessity here in this desert where the sun seemed to be shining at such an intensity that it felt as if his skin would burn to a crisp cherry red, bleach the color from his hair, and leave him writhing on the ground, a dried out husk of his former self.

"Remind me again why I'm in this god forsaken desert?"

Laughter answered his question before a coherent response was given.

"The International Consumer Electronics Show, remember? I invited you? We just left five minutes ago?"

Right. They'd left the air conditioned room and were waiting for Valet to bring their car back.

"Why does the convention have to be here?"

"-Because it's Las Vegas?" America grinned. "You can't tell me you've never wanted to visit Vegas before."

England raised a thick eyebrow at him and pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Aww come on, don't give me that look." America tried to wrap an arm around England's shoulders, only to find it shrugged off. "Do you really hate this place so much?"

"Only that its almost 50 degrees Celsius and there's too much sun." England grasped the front of his button down and waved it in an effort to cool off, despite the fact he was trying to cool off with hot air.

On cue, the valet finally drove up with America's rented hybrid car, the latest model available.

Though I don't know why he tries when I know he has a huge truck waiting back home.

While America tipped the valet, England made a mad dash around the car, flinging the door open and collapsing into the air conditioned passenger seat. America slid into the driver's seat and took off down the congested city roads.

"Well, with the convention over and our flights not leaving until tomorrow morning, want to check out the rest of the city?" A sly grin slowly spread across America's face. "There's this really cool bar I've heard about-"

England only jerked the air conditioning knob, turning the gentle cool flow to a small freezing hurricane.

"No bars… no drinking. I just want to go back to the room and take an ice bath."

"I can't believe you. We're in Vegas and all you want to do is hang around back at the hotel room?" America glared at him, disappointment and annoyance all rolled into one. "We could go to a show or a club or-"

"-And I'm definitely not going to a club."

America frowned. "We could go to a fancy restaurant? I'll even wear… a tuxedo."

Faintly, somewhere in the back of his head, warning bells were blaring off in feverish intensity. The thought of America willingly subjecting himself to wearing the suit of "ceremonial self-torture", as he so affectionately called it, for the sole purpose of going out to dinner with England should have reduced him to a speechless, blubbering idiot. However, all he could see was the parched wasteland and concrete jungle of the city and how much he missed his cool green fields and the morning mists.

"I'm not going anywhere except back to the hotel room."

America gripped the steering wheel and concentrated on driving.

America had planned the trip weeks in advance. Knowing England tended to prefer scenery over glitzy architecture, he made sure to get a hotel room that looked out to the western mountains, where the rock was painted orange, yellow and red. He read about the local restaurant ratings and where the best shows were at. And now, the evening he'd been hoping to spend having a fun time with his best friend and lover was dashed as he watched England make a beeline to the bathroom.

Throwing his keys and wallet to the bedside end table, America kicked off his shoes and listened to the sounds of a tinkling belt-buckle, the rustle of clothes and rushing water. Staring out the window for a moment, America let the sounds sink in before a smile slide into place.

Maybe this evening won't be such a loss after all?

America moved across the room to the bathroom where the gentle sloshing of water filled the air momentarily before a soft sigh replaced it. Curling his fingers around the door frame, America poked his head around the corner and stared. England lay in the tub; his eyes closed and head back against the lip of the porcelain tub. America toed his socks off before stepping into the bathroom, his toes curling slightly at the cold tile floor before they moved to the white shag rug at the tub. Moving around England's clothes, America let himself stare a bit more, admiring England's figure with a curl of hot pleasure before lowering himself to his knees. Leaning against the lip of the tub, America pushed forward and breathed across England's neck.

Jerking to the side, England's eyes flew open. Sighing, he curled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his knees.

"America please- not tonight."

Not giving up so easily, as America has easily persuaded England to change his mind in the past, he leaned forward and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his neck. The corded muscle tensed slightly as another sigh was uttered.

"America…"

There was a warning in his voice.

America pressed on, confident in his ability to seduce his long-time lover, and ghosted his lips up England's neck to his ear. Drawing the lob into his mouth, he rolled his tongue across it.

"Sshhh…" America breathed into his ear and brought his left arm over the lip of the tub, resting his hand on England's chest for a moment before sliding it down south. "Let me…"

England remained silent, but the tension melted away as he finally gave into the heated touches. Turning his head and catching America by surprise, England pressed their lips together in a wet, messy kiss, sliding his tongue into the others mouth. He pressed his hands to the other's chest, sliding them up and around his neck when he felt soft, warm pressure on his vital regions. Gasping softly, he pushed away.

A glaze of disappointment crossed America's face, expecting to be turned away.

England allowed a challenging smirk to grace his face before he stood and stepped around America. He sat on the bed, not caring if the sheets got wet.

Minutes passed before America came out of the bathroom, two champagne glasses in hand.

England could help but raise a brow. "Champagne? Really? I never knew you were such a romantic."

America smiled, returning the smirk England sent him. "Oh we won't be drinking from these."

"Then… why-"

"I'll be using these to start with before I lick the rest off your skin."

A deep shudder ran up England's spine.

"W-well…" England cursed himself for the stutter. "If that's the case… then I have something in my bag that will be… better."

"…Better?"

America headed to England's luggage and carefully set the crystal on top of the dresser.

"In the third pocket… at the bottom."

America rifled through the contents before withdrawing an old brown bottle. "Do I want to know how you managed to get this past airport security?"

"Be happy I considered to bring it, git." England lay back onto the bed as America worked the cork off the bottle with a loud pop before pouring the contents into the crystal. "I've been saving that for quite some time."

America set the bottle down on the end table beside England, staring at the blood red liquid for a moment before handing the glass over. "How old?"

Hesitating only for a moment, America sniffed the liquid, a sugary sweet tang scent, and took a sip. The liquid slid down his throat, leaving a pleasant burn behind.

"Older than you."

England down the glass in a single gulp and reached for the bottle, pouring himself another.

"Older than me? Really?" America let his eyes linger on England's body before moving them back to up his face. Swallowing the rest of the sugary liquid, America set his glass on the table and moved to the bed, swinging a leg over England's thighs. Plucking the glass away from him, America smirked when the liquid sloshed over the rim, spilling across England's chest.

"So clumsy-" England grasped America's chin. "Lick it off, servant."

Dark heat curled in America's gut at England's roleplay. Crawling over him, America dipped his tongue to the crimson liquid, licking and sucking it off with open kisses. He flicked his tongue across a pink nipple, and encouraged at the sudden intake of air below him, fastened his lips around it, sucking and curling his tongue around, making sure to do the same to the other neglected one before moving away. More liquid spilled across England's chest and down his stomach, America licking and kissing it away. England shuddered and sighed, writhing and curling as America's tongue touched sensitive patches of skin.

America ran his hands down either side of him, unable to help noticing the smooth, unbroken pale skin, void of scars… wait.

"Mmmm stop teasing…" England's voice sounded far higher than the normal low pitched tone England got when in bed. "America…"

America didn't move away and moved his hands over England's hip. The blitz- gone. He moved his hand across England's… soft, unscarred belly. Finally, America ran his hand over England's chest, just under his heart. The tiny scar… the revolution…gone.

Scrambling away, America gawked at the tiny boy laying naked on the bed.

"Y-you...you're…!"

"America~…" England's voice grew strained with annoyance. Opening his huge green eyes, he sat up to glare at America. "Why are you-!"

England half gasped, half cried out and plastered himself to the wall. "A-america!?"

"W-what!? Look at you! Your… little!" America jabbed his finger at him… and then noticed how small his hand was.

He looked down and found his clothes nearly falling off of his tiny frame.

"Wha-what is going on?? Why am I little? Why are you little??" America gasped while England dragged the bed sheet up and around his tiny frame. "Did you plan this? Is this some fantasy-"

"I did not!" England sputtered, his body shaking and turning red. "You think I want to be little again??"

"What the hell is that crap??" America rushed across the bed and grabbed the bottle, reading the label. "Wait… this isn't even English. What is this stuff?"

"Let me see-" England jerked the bottle away with a glare. "This is Gaelic… it's… oh no."

"Oh no?" America repeated. "Is that bad?"

England stared at the bottle, his green eyes wide and his skin turning sickly pale.

"I need my wand."

"You need that thing?" America gawked at him. "Then get it and change us back!"

"My wand is back in England."

America blinked and breathed in a deep breath. "What?"

England set the bottle in his lap and turned his gaze back to America.

"In order to change back, we have to go to England."

**

"The wand… is at your house? You brought this crap but left-"

"I didn't bring it on purpose!" England snapped. "I keep my potions and alcohol in the same area."

"That's smart."

"Well there's no use in complaining about it now." England set the bottle back to the bedside table, ignoring America's comment. "We just have to fly back to my home and I'll change us back."

"Fly back- but our tickets were for adults! There's no way they'd let us-"

"Of course I know about that! You invited Canada to this convention didn't you? Call him."

America brightened and dug through his pants pocket for his cell phone. Dialing his twin's number, he waited for him to pick up.

"Allo? C'est de la part de qui?"

"…Francis?"

England, having made his way back to the tub where his clothes lay, stumbled out of the doorway, tripping over his baggy pants.

"Ah~ L'Amérique… So nice of you to call-"

In the background there was a loud gasp, but America cut it off.

"What are you doing with my brother's cell phone?" America frowned, curling suspicion rising in his gut. "And what is that humming sound?"

"I believe that humming sound is the jet engines." There was a pause. "L'Amerique… your voice sounds different. It sounds as if someone has a firm grasp of your-"

"Matt kept his phone on while in flight?!" America's already high pitched voice grew higher still at the prospect of his brother potentially causing a jetliner to crash. "And you still didn't answer my question about Mattie!"

England shrugged his button down back on, frowning at America worriedly.

A voice in the background suddenly cried out, it sounded angry and… something else.

"Hey! Was that Mattie??" America bit his bottom lip and gripped the phone. "I really need to talk to him."

"Well… you could…but I think he's a tad busy right now."

Francis chuckled softly, and America felt as if he was missing out on something.

"Busy doing what?"

There was a long silence.

"Ah! Sorry, got a bit distracted there-"

"Francis, if you don't tell me what's going on right now-"

There was a sigh, and France was speaking to someone.

"-But he wants me to-"

Matthew's voice suddenly came through crystal clear. "No! Don't tell him anything-"

"He's currently becoming a new member of the mile high club~"

America slapped his phone shut.

"…What happened?" England asked, worry filling his voice. "Is Matthew alright?"

America winced, his little cheeks turning pink. "I…just found out my brother is joining the mile high club."

England stared at America, his shirt falling off one shoulder. "...While on the phone?? Does the frog have no sense of decency??"

America stared at his phone, a frown appearing.

"…Why the hell are you pouting?"

"B-because… I wanted to join it first!"

England face palmed.

"Stop your pouting! Right now we need to worry about how we're going to get to my home, not about your future prospects of joining the mile high club."

America picked his head up. "You think we-"

"No."

"But-"

"Forget it."

America frowned, the pout coming back in full force.

"Look-" England picked America's phone up. "We need someone to help us to get back home. Since most of the nations are most likely gone by now…" England glanced at the clock and found the time well past sundown. "Why don't we ask one of your states?"

America shook his head. "No way."

"Why not??" England dropped the phone and flung his hands in the air in anger, causing his pants and underwear to fall as one. He frantically jerked them back up, his face beet red, keeping one hand on the waistband of his pants. "They look old enough to pass as a guardian, don't they?"

America, wisely, didn't say anything about the accident. "I can't ask my own kids for help. It's embarrassing."

"America…" England growled. "You have 50 of them! Surely one of them won't mind! And why the bloody hell do you always refer to them as your kids when they're not even-"

"-Because they're my babies!" America cried out in his little-boy-voice, showing his over-protective nature, much to England's annoyance. "And besides… that'd be like you asking your brother's for help."

England opened his mouth to yell at him once more, but quickly fell silent. Memories of his youth flooded him, back when his brother's used to torment him on a daily basis. Hmmm… I never thought of it like that… I guess he does have a point…

"I guess we're on our own, then?" England sighed. "The first thing we should probably do is find some clothes that fit."

"Yeah…" America slid off the bed, making sure to keep one hand on his belt. "I bet there's a gift shop downstairs that has something in our size."

"…with the tacky casino logo plastered all over, I bet." England frowned. "How are we going to walk around and pay in these over-sized clothes?"

America headed for the door, laughing and giggling in his little-boy-voice. England stared at him for a moment, old memories of America as a tiny colony filling his mind before he willingly shoved them away.

"No one will notice, they'll be too busy gawking at the cocktail waitresses in the skimpy outfits to care."

England stared at America. "They have cocktail waitresses here?"

America turned to meet England's stare, a knowing smile in place. "Yeah, they do. They're nice to look at… but they only come to you if you're gambling."

"Oh. Well in that case…"

America giggled again. "Don't want to boost my economy with a charitable donation that could possibly have rewards?"

"Charitable donation my arse."

England reached for the door handle, his hand just barely reaching it to swing the door open.

Poking his head out, his blonde hair still slightly wet and messy from their earlier activities, England nodded back to America and rushed down the hall, trying his damndest not to trip and face-plant the carpet. America followed close behind as the two made their way to the elevators.

"Wait-!" America grabbed England's shoulder. "Do you think it's a good idea to use the elevator? I mean…what if someone joins on with us?"

"…If your implying that we take the stairs, then maybe you've forgotten that we're on the 21st floor?" England growled, his pudgy cheeks, still holding the faint memory of baby fat, flushed in anger. "And if you think I'm walking down 20 flights of stairs dressed like this and barefoot-"

"Alright-alright! Geeze… take the elevator!" America jabbed the 'down-arrow' button and impatiently waited for the elevator to come. "I'm just trying to be careful-"

There was a loud ding, and the double doors opened. The elevator was empty, leaving the two tiny nations to sigh in relief as they shuffled in, America stumbling over a pant leg momentarily. England stabbed his finger at the button with a huge 'C' on it, and the elevator took them down to the casino.

"This is all your fault, ya know." America shot a glare over his shoulder. "You and your stupid magic."

"My stupid magic is what will return us back to normal. Unless you want to go to the next world meeting as a child. I'm sure everyone would love seeing you like that."

America pressed his lips together and continued to glare, remembering the ruined plans and evening. "Don't know why I even try."

"I often wonder the same thing." England snapped back. "You're just blind to my true power. If only you knew and saw everything I could see-"

"Sorry, but I'm not crazy. I don't talk to things that don't exist."

England clenched his fists. "There! You did it again!"

"Did what!?"

"A double negative! How many times have I told you-"

"A double- what does that have to do with anything??" America sputtered. "Weren't we just arguing about me not believing you-"

"There! You did it again!"

"Well this is how I talk! If you don't like it then don't listen!"

English cringed at the third instance and sighed in exasperation. "To think I spent all those long years pounding my language into your head… and then you go and bastardize it-"

Just then the elevator doors dinged and an elderly woman with fancy clothes, lots of jewelry and perfume walked in. England and America immediately moved to the opposite corner, attempting to look dignified and trying to keep their clothes from falling off. The elevator started up once more and the lady turned to smile at the two young boys.

England and America smiled back nervously.

"That baggy clothing… it looks a tad oversized?"

America flashed a grin, covering for England who sputtered and grasped his pants ever tighter. "This is the latest fashion! Everyone wear's clothing that's like this! It's cool."

The lady smiled, seeming used to this response. "I see… where are your parents?"

"Oh just down in the casino. Gambling. You know, the usual." America covered with ease. "They just leave us up in the hotel room. Probably come up all angry cause they didn't win anything-"

"Oh but that can't happen all the time, why just the other day, I won seven hundred bucks on the penny slots!"

"You won…really?" America gaped openly. "Wow… I wish our parents-"

"Not that we're related or anything!" England spat out and covered America's mouth with his hands. "I'm English, not American."

"Oh I can hear the accent-… funny, but I could have sworn you two were related."

"…What makes you say that?"

"You two look just like each other-"

"What!? I don't look like him!" America tore mouth away from England's hand. "Have you seen his eyebrows! It's like their slowly taking over his face-!"

"What!?" England tackled America to the floor and tried wrapping his tiny hands around America's throat. "Take that back!"

"But-…! Its true-!"

America fought back, trying to shove England off him.

The elderly lady just stood and stared at the two with an amused smile.

Just then the elevator dinged twice and the doors opened. The lady bid her company farewell and left the two boys wrestling on the floor of the elevator floor, one gasping and trying to throw the other off, while the other sputtered out a string of curse words and insults that would make a sailor blush.

"There's the shop," America pointed across the lobby, filled with fancy marble floors, plants, and the chimes and whistles of the several hundred slot machines, to a glass storefront. "We'll make a run for it-!"

England grabbed America's arm before he jumped off into a sprint. "Yes, go ahead and run. I'll wait here and watch you fall on your face."

America frowned at him. "Well what else are we going to do! We have to be quick or else someone will see us-"

"Are you worrying about those people on the slots or the security guard? Because I highly doubt those people will be turning their heads anytime soon. They look like they might start drooling if they were anymore transfixed."

America rolled his eyes. "Well… wait for the guard to turn his head and just walk really fast and we should make it."

England nodded, somewhat happy with the thrown together plan. America counted to three and the two shuffled across the lobby, America nearly losing his shirt on the way and England tripping two more times. They entered the store, greeted by tunes from a local radio station, and made a beeline for the children's clothing section.

America reached for a black shirt and held it up to his chest. England browsed the through the other clothing racks, his focused stare growing more and more annoyed.

"Is this all they have? Shirts and… athletic bottoms??" England sighed and tore a dark blue shirt off the rack with the smallest logo. "Can't wait to get back to normal."

"Man it must be tough, having to wear comfortable clothes and all." America filed through pants rack, picking a matching black pair. "I don't know how you do it."

England glared at him and sent him a you'll-pay-for-that-later look. "Belt up, gitface."

America smiled cheekily and headed for the dressing rooms. Minutes later he came back out in the form-fitting clothing, his once toned physique now soft with childhood. America, with his old clothes in hand, walked back to where England was, who had seemingly already changed. The two each found a cheap pair of flip flops and shuffled up to the cash register, their adult clothes bundled under their arms.

A girl, dressed in the generic, designed-to-be-uncomfortable casino uniform, flipped through a tabloid gossip magazine and popped her gum.

America stood still for a moment, waiting for her to notice him before he spoke up. "Hey, we'd like to pay for these clothes."

The girl finally looked up; confusion flooded her gaze momentarily before she tilted her head downward. "…You wanna pay for the clothes your wearing?"

"Why else would we be standing here?" England dead panned. "For shits and giggles?"

America waved a hand at England and flashed a huge, albeit nervous grin at the teenager. "Haha! Don't mind him!"

The girl raised an eyebrow at the 8-year-old child with huge eyebrows, taken back by his language. "You know… you're not supposed in here unsupervised."

America interjected once more, instantly – and easily - coming up with a white lie. "Our parents are out gambling. We spilled our drinks on our old clothes so they just sent us to buy new-"

"Kids are supposed to be left at the Kidzone near the entrance."

America stared at her and frantically dug his wallet out. If she thinks she can just dump us off at a daycare-… why can she just let us pay for our clothes??

"Look, here's the money, keep the change!" America flung the two fifty dollar bills at her, grabbed England, and tried running from the shop when he nearly collided into the legs of a security guard. "Wha-... oh."

"Hey George, take 'em back to Kidzone for me?"

The girl took the money and stuck it in the register, pocketing the change.

"They must have gotten loose."

*****

A/n: Just one extra tidbit before I embarrass myself in posting this, but the part with the old lady winning 700$ on a penny slot machine actually happened to my best friend's grandmother. I wish that could happen to me D: