SOY: written for the kink–meme, I basically live there. ^^ Enjoy this, uh, unusual pairing.

……………………………………………

Rating: K+.

Warnings: Gilbird. Some angst? Tons of cuteness.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

……………………………………………

Open Wings

One–shot

He was tired.

Tired didn't even begin to explain the way his muscles ached, how he had to keep rubbing at his eyes as he stared down at his documents, sheer will keeping him from falling asleep on them; being tired… America hadn't felt that tired in a long while, so long he couldn't even remember when the last time had been (or maybe it was just that his brain didn't function anymore. It could happen, especially after what, three days with minimum sleep and barely enough time to eat?), only that it had been… long ago.

It was eating him from the inside, with dark circles under his eyes and fingers failing to grip on a pen –the kind of weariness that made every day seem like the previous.

Piles and piles of documents in front of him, so many he didn't even see the desk underneath anymore. Was there even an end to them?

America picked a new one up from the growing pile and groaned –it was another complaint; those seemed to be endless, Nation after Nation coming up with some sort of bullshit that they demanded him to fix. Cars, jobs, food… every inquiry, every request was the same.

A yawn stopped his thoughts from wandering too far from the subject he was reading about, and his jaw opened so wide he thought it'd dislodge.

He was so very tired.

Sometimes, being a Nation didn't look like it was worth the effort. Of course, one couldn't just stand up and stop being one, nor would America just want to. Besides, every Nation had to go through bad periods, and America's logic side nodded in agreement and prodded him to continue working.

The pile had to end at one point.

The others didn't really hate him for his work –nor did they despise him or judge the way he did his job. They were just as busy as he was.

Still, the small, lingering seed of anger inside him was growing more and more with every single file he had to read, with all the insults he received and the sneers from older nations who thought he had to do better –he was a super power, a strong, powerful nation, and he had to show it…

It was enough –didn't they know how it felt? To be constantly under pressure? They had to know, yet why couldn't they just back off and let him breathe, for once?

Another yawn, this time longer. America rubbed at his eyes again, his sight wavering slightly until he was unable to decipher the small letters on the white paper. As it was, he had a dire need to take a bath and eat, but more than this, he needed some hours off to rest.

'Maybe one more document, and then I'll go sleep' he decided.

He couldn't concentrate anymore on his work, and he knew when to just stop and give up. He could wake up early in the morning and just work a bit more, and surely he would manage to finish up everything.

Or if not the next day, maybe in the next few days, he would do it.

He was a hero, after all –heroes never gave up. Never.

Besides, nobody was scheduled to meet with him for at least a week –he would do it!

England's face flickered through his brain, a hard, disappointed voice commenting on his lack of commitment for his work, but America simply waved a hand in the air, dismissing the mental image of his once–caretaker with a grimace.

This wasn't the time to think about him, or anyone else, either.

Signing the last document with a flourish and a small stamp that certified the authenticity of his signature (there had been problems regarding that in the past, and he had promised himself to never do the same mistake twice), America stood up.

The motion made his back crack in three different places, and when he stretched with another yawn, his joints protested loudly; wincing, America shook his head and exited his office, ready to drop off to bed and finally let himself go to a well deserved rest.

He had so much work to do that he didn't even want to wake up at all.

'Damn it all' he grunted as he reached his bedroom, falling down on the huge bed without even taking off his clothes. 'Why has it to be just this… hard?'

The alarm clock on the bedside table was already set on seven sharp, and America let out a soft groan –he wanted to sleep more, but there was no walking around his job… not if he actually wanted to finish before 2020, at least.

"A hero shouldn't have to do paperwork" he grumbled in a low, clearly tired voice as he threw Texas next to the alarm clock.

His head had barely hit the pillow and America was already off like a light, dreaming of piles of documents chasing him down the street and Nations blaming him for his lateness.

…………………………

The first thing America was aware of when he woke up was… that he didn't want to wake up.

His brain was still covered in a blissful haze, and he entertained the idea of just rolling around in his bed and simply ignore the alarm…

Only that he hadn't awoken at the sound of the alarm clock –the blasted thing was nothing more than a stress–inducing, devil–made device, but he was quite accustomed with its sound, and his brain wasn't registering its sound at all.

He'd considered more than once to just throw the accursed thing out of the window and watch it crash two floors below with satisfaction, but it was the only thing that managed to wake him up in the mornings. He needed it.

So, it was strange that he was awake… and he wasn't hearing the sound of the alarm.

Actually, as he slowly emerged from unconsciousness, America became aware that the only thing he could hear was… the chirping of a bird. Which was very strange, since the house he was staying at was in the middle of New York.

The only animals resembling birds he'd ever seen around there were pigeons, and even then, he was doubtful whether they were actually real birds or just filthy rats with wings.

He had a house he liked more somewhere in the mountains, near a lake and with a beautiful scenery, but he had learned from his mistakes that staying at a beautiful place only led him to skid through his job to go have fun outside.

And he couldn't work with that unless he finished all his paperwork.

Which was the reason he had to wake up early.

So, the birds…?

Rubbing his eyes, America blinked a few times to chase away the remains of sleep. He had rolled around in bed again, and his blanket had completely fallen on the floor. He grunted when cool air hit the back of his legs, and he didn't have to look back to see that his clothes were also on the floor –he moved around a lot when sleeping, and it wasn't the first time he'd kicked his pants off at night.

Putting on Texas, America leisurely stretched a bit before sitting up on the bed.

The damn bird was still chirping, and America groaned, looking around. There was nothing that he could see as being the cause for the sound –which was also rather close, or so it seemed to him– and it wasn't even that early, so why should there be a bird if it was nine in the mor–

"What?!"

America shot out of bed in a second, now completely awake. It couldn't be –he'd set his alarm to start drilling in his ears at seven am! Why didn't it work?!

A louder chirping reached his ears, and America stopped his mental freaking out to look around. The window was open –he didn't quite remember whether he had left it like this the previous night or not– but as he looked out, all he could see was concrete and houses, some clothes left to dry in the sun and cars.

No birds… yet the chirping was even louder now!

He shut the window close, and the chirping stopped. Surprised but feeling rather satisfied with himself, America turned around and moved to the bathroom, scratching his chin. At least, he had to give it to himself, he wasn't as tired as he'd been the previous night. Two more hours to sleep were definitely good.

He was already late for his 'early working', so a bath was out of question, but he could still have a quick shower if he hurried up.

And then breakfast –he surely had some maple syrup Canada had dropped when visiting (the guy left some everywhere he went in hopes someone noticed it came from him), and he could heat up some leftover pancakes.

'Gotta go and work as much as I can today too… maybe I will feel refreshed after a shower…'

Glancing at his reflection in the mirror, America picked up his toothbrush and paste and started scrubbing his teeth, eyes wandering up to his hair; Canada often joked on how it looked like a bird nest, and America had to admit he was right, since there was a small, familiar bird looking down at him from the…

Wait, what?

America's thoughts screeched into a halt and he stared, eyes wide in shock, as the small bird on top of his head started chirping again.

Toothpaste flew everywhere as America spat it out on the mirror, the image of the little yellow bird turning less clear.

"Hmmmmfhghh–aaaat!" America leaned forwards and spat the rest of the paste into the sink, rinsing his mouth twice before looking out, hoping he had been dreaming.

But of course no –he hadn't. The bird was still on top of his head, and it was still chirping.

Eyes still wide, America carefully scooped the yellow ball of fluff up and away from his hair. The little bird went quiet the moment the American nation held him up, but as he got it closer to his face, he let out another happy chirp at him, flapping its tiny little wings.

"Piyo?"

"You… how did you…" and why was this bird familiar, of all things…

It wasn't Pierre, and France didn't actually pop around lately as much as he was used to; besides, he didn't know any other Nation who had a flying animal, if you didn't consider England's 'magical–friends–you–can't–see' delusions.

Unless it was…

Gilbird.

America paled considerably.

This was Prussia's little bird.

Prussia's adored little chick.

"Piyo piyo!" the little bird… Gilbird… chirped and nuzzled at America's fingers with his beak, probably trying to find food.

"I–it's not heroic to be killed because of a bird!" America panicked, looking around and trying to find a reasonable excuse as to why he was holding the bird of an ex–Nation in his hands. He had no idea how Gilbird had managed to get to his house and into his hair, but he knew that if he didn't take him back right now, there would be hell to pay.

Every nation and their sisters knew how much Prussia loved the little chick, and that he never went anywhere without him. America wasn't stupid. He knew what could happen if Prussia were to think America had kidnapped the bird.

A mental image of a very enraged Prussia going ballistic on him wasn't exactly how America had envisioned the day would go. "I–I needed to work!"

Yet, he was already running back to his bedroom to put his clothes on, the little bird still in his hands, chirping happily.

"Stop sounding so happy, you!"

"Piyo?"

…………………………

America had a vague idea where to find Prussia, and thankfully enough, he was right –the ex–Nation was standing outside of a café, spying Switzerland and Austria drinking some tea together. America didn't really have time to wonder what the two were doing together, nor why Prussia was spying them, but it was a good thing the Prussian ex–Nation loved to boast about his voyeuristic hobbies when drunk.

Last time Prussia, Denmark and England had gotten together for a drink, America had to drive them back at England's house (he hadn't even been invited, but apparently one of them, probably England, had his phone number in his wallet, and the bartender had called him to get rid of the trio), and Prussia really did talk a lot when smashed.

Not that America had minded. It was fun. The whole lot of Ex–empire talk coming from England is less interesting when you hear it every few weeks, whilst Prussia's bitching about his vital regions invasions had been way funnier.

So anyway, Prussia had boasted for a long fifteen minutes about how he liked pissing 'the damn Austrian aristocrat', and how often he liked to follow him at his favourite café to mock him.

'It's a good thing I remembered the name of the café, and that the taxi guy knew where to take me…' since he still had some problems with directions and orientation, America had resorted to only moving in taxi when alone.

It was a good move when he had to get somewhere outside his territories.

"Piyo?"

The stupid bird was once again nested on his head, and America groaned. He didn't really know how to approach Prussia about his bird, and he was vaguely worried about his reaction –Prussia wasn't a Nation anymore, but he was still scary and imposing.

Who knew what he'd do?

"Alfred!"

America froze in place and instinctively tried hiding Gilbird behind his hands, though the traitor little bird made itself known by chirping even louder. He turned around, sweating, and faced Prussia coming towards him.

"Uh, haha~ Gilbert, it's… uhm, nice seeing you here!" America backed away from him a bit, but Prussia's eyes were already fixed on his hair, and more exactly on what he was hiding behind his cupped hands. "T–this is not what you think! I didn't bird–nap your bird! He was in my hair this morning! I don't know how he got there! I swear!"

"Don't sweat it man, it's not awesome!" Prussia slapped his shoulder hard and smirked. "Gilbird~ so that's where you were!"

"Piyo!"

Gilbird wriggled its way out of America's hands and flapped its wings, soaring into the air and falling back where it belonged –Prussia's head.

"Wait, you're not angry?" America blinked and stared at the Prussian ex–Nation with a bewildered expression, feeling vaguely suspicious. "You're not even wondering how he got all the way from Europe to my house?"

Prussia let out a loud chuckle, pushing his chest forwards and placing his hands over his hips. "Kesese~ it's the awesome companion of the awesome me! Travelling by itself is only expected from the great Gilbird!"

America sweatdropped, and fidgeted. He had expected… well, a less sane reaction, or maybe some angered accuses (in that period, everybody liked to accuse him and assume things, so it was rather strange that Prussia was acting so… civilized instead…), and yet he'd received a calm, almost neutral reply.

It was surprising but not unwelcome.

Prussia was now tapping Gilbird with a finger, smirking and looking even happier, and America found the sight almost cute. The little bird was cute, after all. About Prussia… well, he wasn't cute, of course. Good–looking, yes, but cute? Definitely not.

But now he had no reason to stay anymore, and it was better if he returned to his paperwork. He'd lost already two hours when sleeping, and an extra few hours coming over at Prussia's to return the bird…

Though he did feel very refreshed.

"Well, if all's well, I'm going to go back home" he stated, scratching his chin. "I'm glad you, uh, didn't think I had stolen Gilbird or something. See you around, Gilbert!"

"You don't want to pat Gilbird?" Prussia looked almost flabbergasted. "Well, I am sure you patted him enough while you were coming here, so I'll let you go now!"

America felt his lips twitch upwards. Indeed, he had patted the little fluffy thing. The soft feathers and his chirping had made it impossible for America not to want to pat it.

Turning his back at Prussia, America waved his arms for the taxi to come closer –his mind already returning to the huge amount of paperwork he had left to do.

…………………………

The chirping penetrated through America's fogged brain, and he resurfaced to consciousness with a long, jaw–cracking yawn and a sigh.

"Piyo!"

Groaning, America looked up from his bed and let his head fall back down on the pillow once he noticed what time it was.

Nine am. Again.

Groaning once more, the sound muffled by the pillow, America put on Texas and shook his head.

There it was, the chirping sound. He didn't even have to look up at his head to know who was sitting in there, happily letting him know it was time to wake up.

"Gilbird…" America sat up on the bed and carefully threaded his fingers through his blond strands until he encountered the small form of the bird. Gathering it into his hand, he brought it down to his eyes and glared at it.

"Piyo! Piyo!"

America had to give it to the bird –he did look far too smug, nipping at his fingers and flapping its wings.

"Why are you here again? Gilbert will definitely kick my ass! It's not nice!" he paused for a moment, then glared at the bird again "it can't be you the one messing with my alarm clock, right?"

"Piyo!"

It couldn't be. This was a bird.

"… I'll take this as a no. Maybe…" America shook his head and pulled Texas on his nose.

Despite having lost a lot of time due to the little bird, America had worked without interruptions during the afternoon, and had actually managed to sort more documents than he had thought he'd be able to by the time he decided to drop off to bed.

Even with the reports and whining he got (this time also through phone calls and e–mails), America had been able to work his way out of them, and even though he was still tired and angered at the whole complaining thing, at least he had been able to reduce the amount of work still to do.

"Piyo! Piyo!"

America glared at the bird, but since he was nipping at his fingers and looking up at him every few seconds, he realised that Gilbird might be hungry.

"I'll feed you and then I'll take you back to Gilbert. Let this be the last time you pop around! Heroes don't have time to waste with little birds!"

As an answer, Gilbird pecked his finger harder than before, making him wince. 'Stupid bird…'

Still, as he attempted to find something suiting the bird's delicate stomach, America couldn't stop smiling.

…………………………

"Gilbird, here you are! Come back to the awesome me!"

America watched in amusement as the little yellow ball fluttered from his stretched hand towards his rightful owner, who allowed him to snuggle into his hair once again.

Thinking of it, Prussia without the bird looked kind of wrong –almost as if Gilbird had turned to be the missing half of the ex–Nation, or something. America chuckled at the thought, then straightened his back. He didn't have time to waste.

"I don't know what to say," America shrugged "it actually popped around once again, and the window was open…" 'I thought I had closed it, though…'

"The little fellow likes to have his own adventures, kesese~" Prussia shook his head in amusement, and Gilbird chirped in agreement. "You sure have an awful lot of time to waste if you called West's house to know where I was today!"

The nerve of him –just because Prussia wasn't a Nation anymore it didn't mean he should make such comments. America's left eyebrow twitched.

"I shouldn't have bothered anyway –you're still stalking Roderich and Vash, just like yesterday… you don't have anything better to do either, huh, Gilbert?"

Prussia's expression turned vaguely feral, a smirk making him look even more imposing. "You have a nerve, kid, I have to give it to you, kesese~"

America rolled his eyes, but was also smiling. "I'm the hero, I have the right to be cheeky!"

Prussia laughed out loud, and slapped his shoulder with enough strength to send America reeling forwards. "Why have we never tried going out to drink? You're a fine bud!"

Despite the fact that he'd seen enough drunken idiots to make him swear never to touch alcohol for the rest of his life, America didn't mind the compliment. "Well, I actually don't drink, so–"

Prussia's expression morphed into one of sheer horror, and he brought one fist up to his chest, pointing a thumb at himself. "I can't believe this –you bring shame on me! I've never had a friend who refused to get drunk with me!"

"Well, now you have one –but I'm a hero, so you can overlook the fact that I won't drink with you!"

Prussia rubbed his chin, looking like he was actually considering America's words.

"I can do the driving for you, if nothing else," the American Nation added, smirking when Prussia's face turned from serious to delighted in the span of a second.

"Kesese~ you're right, after all. I will allow you to accompany the awesome me to the pub one of those nights, indeed!" Prussia's smirk widened as he patted Gilbird's head, "You'll have the supreme privilege of listening to my awesome speeches, too!"

America chuckled at his words, but he quite liked Prussia's attitude, despite everything. If only he had enough time to spend talking with him, he'd surely have fun, but as it was, he was already taking far too much time, and needed to go back to work.

"I'm going now," America waved at Gilbird, who let out a soft chirping sound and bounced a bit on top of Prussia's head, then smiled as Prussia gave him a thumbs–up. "Keep your eyes on the little one, though" he added.

Prussia's laughter followed him until he closed the door of the taxi and gave the address to the driver.

He was still smiling.

…………………………

"Piyo piyo!"

"…" America's eyebrow twitched.

"Piyo~"

It wasn't possible. The damned bird was on top of his head again.

"Gilbird…" he grunted, then yawned, which momentarily distracted America from the tirade he was about to commence.

Whilst he was yawning, Gilbird flapped its wings and flew down on the bed, chirping happily and bouncing on the mattress, even managing a few twirls and rolls; America stared at him, vaguely impressed.

"Your owner did train you well, it seems," he muttered, unsure whether to smile or grimace.

"Piyo~!"

America sighed and stood up, gathering Texas in his hands and pushing it onto his nose. He was getting used to Gilbird's presence into his hair every morning, actually –it was probably a week or so since the first appearance of the little bird, and it looked like it didn't want to leave.

There wasn't a real problem about it either, if not for the fact that he had been sure that all the windows were close the previous evening.

And the fact that he was sure Prussia would soon start getting tired of having to meet with America every day just so he could get his feathery friend back.

A frigging week. He'd been popping around for an entire week, waking him up after his alarm clock failed to do its job (America was about to buy a new one anyway)…

Not that he minded so much anymore, but he had to keep up the front… for, uh, the bird. He didn't want him to start thinking he was welcome, or he'd never go away!

"Do you get so bored that you have to get the whole way here from your owner's house just to get some 'adventure'?" America addressed the small bird as he made his way to the bathroom.

"Pi~yo!"

It had turned to be their daily ritual, a sort of one–sided banter (America refused to start thinking that Gilbird actually was answering him), that continued whilst the American nation fed the little bird, and then went to give him back to Prussia.

The Prussian ex–Nation still seemed to be cool with the whole 'I'm–sorry–that–Gilbird–popped–in–my–bedroom–again' daily meeting, and after the initial hesitation, America had actually started talking more with him, too.

Yes, he wasted some time that he could have been spending on working, but he didn't really notice until it was late and he had to go back home, and once he even accepted to drink something (a coffee, though, nothing alcoholic, much to Prussia's chagrin) with him.

He'd had a good time, listening to the Prussian mimicking the other Nations, waving his arms around and making America snort in laughter.

America had to admit it, Prussia was a fun person to talk to, and even having Gilbird around lessened the pressure he felt with his job and all that stuff, and helped him concentrate more on actually doing things well…

He even slept more, despite his intentions to wake up early. He supposed it was a good thing, all considered.

"Now, stay there like the heroic little bird you are, so that I can brush my teeth, huh Gilbird?" America placed the yellow ball on his head and admonished him with a finger by staring at him through the mirror. He denied seeing the little bird nod, of course. Because well, birds shouldn't even be able to nod in answer to something.

This bird even less… it didn't look like it had a neck to begin with.

Whilst he brushed his teeth, eyes following Gilbird's acrobatics in his hair, America idly wondered whether Prussia actually liked talking with him.

…………………………

"Oi, Alfred, good morning! Gilbird still popping around, huh?" Prussia was smirking at him as he got closer, waving a bit and turning his full attention to him.

America shook his head and watched Gilbird happily float from his hair back into Prussia's hands, chirping happily.

"I don't get how he does it," he muttered, still raw about the whole 'getting–through–my–hermetically–shut–windows'. "It's stupid. I should find out, every night I close all the windows, and yet…"

"He keeps coming in, huh? Must be like Feli when he has to get into West's house, nobody will be able to stop him," Prussia laughed loudly at what felt like a private joke, and America simply tilted his head to the side, shrugging. "Ah, I bought an IPod! I have to let you listen to this song I had West download for me from ITunes…"

Beckoning America to come closer, Prussia extracted a flashy green IPod with equally limey green earphones and started clicking like crazy; America moved closer, quite curious, and the moment he was at an arm's reach, Prussia's hand wrapped around his shoulders and dragged him closer.

"Ooof– hey, Gilbert, watch out for my glass–"

America fell painfully against Prussia's chest and a second later something was pressed into his left ear. He had barely enough time to brace himself that a loud, terribly noisy music exploded in his ear.

"Listen!" Prussia ordered, smirking.

It was a mix of the unz–tunz kind of music and a guy talking with a grumbling, deep voice, and it wasn't exactly America's favourite type at all. It was actually cringe–worthy! Nothing heroic and awesome like the music he listened!

"Uh–urrgh! W–what's this horrib–" a hand pressed against his lips, making him fall silent as he was forced to listen to the loud –he couldn't call this music at all– noise, still squeezed against Prussia's body.

He flushed and tried to push the other away, arms wildly waving around, but the albino didn't release him until the last notes ended.

By then, America's brain had died out already and he was slumping against Prussia's chest, almost in a comatose state.

"So, how was this? Isn't it amazing?" Prussia held America up, patting him on the shoulder and looking expectantly at him with wide crimson eyes.

America gulped down the less–than–positive comments he had been about to say and cleared his throat, somewhat hesitant now. Prussia looked like he was sure America would compliment him on his music choice… with a light flush on his cheeks, America realised he didn't quite want to burst the other's pretty little bubble.

It wasn't because he was afraid of hurting Prussia's feelings (God only knew if the albino cared about what others thought of what he liked), but simply because, when faced with such an expression coming from the only person that had yet to insult him –despite having to see him everyday due to Gilbird– or bitch at him, America simply couldn't.

Besides, it was not worth of a hero to delude someone, right?

"Uh, it was… well, different," he offered, looking up at Gilbird, almost hoping for some kind of help.

The bird chirped happily down at him, but of course offered no aid.

"Ah, whoa, Gilbert, I have never heard something like that!" he continued, forcing a smile on his lips and hoping it would be enough.

It was –Prussia straightened up and smirked at him, clearly satisfied, and locked one arm around America's neck again, holding him closer, and starting to chat about his horrible music in a boastful tone as he tugged the other Nation down the street.

America didn't really care about that non–music, but the closeness did feel nice.

…………………………

"Piyo~"

"… good morning, Gilbird…"

America groaned and pulled on Texas, glaring daggers at his new alert clock; it was completely useless, because even though he'd bought one of the most advanced, it still failed to wake him up, allowing Gilbird free reign.

Not that being awoken by the little bird was bad –he'd started appreciating it, and he was far less stressed now that he slept more.

More focused during the day, he'd even managed to work faster and better, and even his boss had noticed it, giving him more freeway and lessening the amount of work he had. More than just that, the complaints had also diminished.

Times were hopefully turning for the better.

Prussia offering him some company every day also had something to do with this. America wasn't an idiot, and he knew when to appreciate what he had… and Prussia had offered him friendship.

Cheeks flushing a bit at the thought of all the time he was spending in company of the other, America shook his head and stomped over to the bathroom, the bird chirping from somewhere in his hair.

"Don't get too comfortable, Gilbird, we're going to see Gilbert right after breakfast, as usual" he warned.

Not that the little ball of feathers would actually listen to him, of course, but it was still something he did every day.

"Piyo~"

America looked down and got busy brushing his teeth, idly thinking about the movies he wanted to suggest to Prussia –maybe he could actually invite him over for a movie–night, or something?

Surely Prussia wouldn't mind –by what he'd said, he quite liked American movies…

It was only when he got to the kitchen, ready to heat some milk and eat his cereals, that America noticed the lack of Gilbird in his hair.

"Gilbird? Hey, where did you go?" passing his fingers gently through his blond locks, he found no bird.

Looking around under the table and at the cupboards (it wouldn't be the first time he'd closed the little bird inside one) was of no help –Gilbird was nowhere to be found.

Panicking a bit, America returned to the bathroom, but Gilbird wasn't there either.

He ran to the bedroom and much to his surprise, the window was wide open.

"Gilbird?"

Even looking outside didn't help. The bird was gone.

'So it decided to go back on his own today?' America frowned, closing the window shut and pouting. 'It should have done that the first day… stupid bird…'

America returned to the kitchen feeling sorely disappointed despite himself. As he poured himself a huge amount of Lucky Charms, he frowned and rapped his fingers on the table. He should have been happy –now he didn't have to drop by Prussia's house to return the bird, and have to waste so much time outside when he still had so much to do…

But he wasn't happy.

It didn't mean he wanted to step aside from his work, because this was not something a hero did… but it was simply that Prussia's company had been pleasant. A welcomed change.

Maybe he had more time to work now, but… he was quite sad.

In a sour mood, America quickly ate his cereals and moved back to the small room he had turned into an office, feeling his lips twitch downwards at the amount of work he still had to do.

Almost disheartened, he started working.

…………………………

"Piyo?"

America was startled out of his glaring at the documents by a familiar chirping coming from somewhere in the room, and he glanced up, surprised.

"Gilbird?" he wondered out loud.

"Piyo~"

There he was –a small ball fluttering towards him at full speed; America opened his mouth to say something (anything, really), maybe berate the little bird for disappearing on him, maybe just tell him to go back to wherever he went before and not come back… then he simply smiled and cupped his hands together.

Gilbird flew into the make–shift nest and chirped happily, nipping at the fingers with his small beak.

"Welcome back, little friend," America smiled, suddenly in a more cheerful mood. "Where did you go? And why did you come back here?"

"Piyo~ piyo~" Gilbird nuzzled at his thumb in reply.

The American nation sighed, still smiling, and couldn't get angry at the little bird. He was happy to see it again, after all. The bright feathery ball kept him company, and he didn't mind having it around for a bit more.

"You lost your chance to go back to Gilbert's house, you know" he sniffed, holding the bird to his hair. "I have to work now, so you'll just have to wait a few hours more, then I'll bring you back… I don't think Gilbert will mind, if I explain him you went MIA for a bit…"

"Piyo~"

America's smile remained on his face the whole time he worked, and two hours later (and much many papers signed and ready to be sent back to his boss) he was ready for a quick trip to Europe.

Only that Gilbird had made itself scarce again.

Feeling ticked off, America grabbed his phone and dialled Prussia's number, still unsure whether to be annoyed at the bird or not.

"Yeah? Who the hell is calling?" Prussia's loud voice greeted him from the receiver, and America chuckled despite himself.

"It's me, Alfred".

"I'm not called Alfred, and who is 'me'?"

Rolling his eyes, America tapped his fingers on the wall, pressing his side against the edge of the door.

"Don't joke around, Gilbert, the 'awesome you' should know you don't play around with heroes!"

A laugh was his only reply, and America's lips twitched upwards as well.

"Hey, Alfred, why didn't you pop around this morning? I missed you! You shouldn't make awesome people like me waiting, you know".

America's fingers unconsciously gripped the receiver, cheeks colouring slightly. So Prussia did enjoy their daily talks. It was nice to know.

"Uh, Gilbird disappeared on me and I thought he'd left to go back to your house on his own, so I started working instead," he admitted, scratching his chin.

Prussia had been adamant that he tried to work less and have fun more, and America secretly agreed with him, yet he couldn't do that when he still had so much work to do. He was going to finish it by the end of the week, though, so afterwards he would finally have some much deserved free time.

Maybe the movie–night with Prussia would be a great way to celebrate…

"Why are you calling me now?" Prussia's voice had an edge of amusement. "Did you miss me so much that you can't do without hearing my voice at least once a day?"

America's cheeks burned red at the teasing tone, and he shook his head wildly even though he knew the albino couldn't see him. So embarrassing, yet he should have been used to Prussia's attitude by now…

"T–that is not it! Your ego is just as big as… as…" America tried to grasp at a good comeback, snapping his fingers a few times. "As…"

"Maybe as your own?" Prussia teased again, chuckling.

The blond Nation spluttered, and was about to retort when a loud chirping stopped him. he looked to the side, and there he was, Gilbird flapping his tiny wings to get to America's head.

"Uh…" he looked at the receiver and shrugged "Gilbird reappeared, I wanted to ask if you wouldn't mind coming over to take him, since he doesn't seem to want to leave…" scratching his chin in embarrassment, America let out a hesitant laugh "every time I mention bringing him back, he disappears…"

"Ah, of course, the great me doesn't mind the trip over –you'd better have some good shit to eat by the time I come over, though!"

America chuckled and shut the call off. It would be a nice change of pace, having Prussia coming there instead of the other way around.

A good thing indeed…

…………………………

"Oi, Alfred, bonjour!"

America turned around and blinked as France waved his hand at him in a dignified way, coming closer and smiling. It would have looked better if France hadn't been mostly naked, though…

"Good morning, Francis… out molesting poor unsuspecting Nations again?"

France let out a shrill laugh, pressing his hands on his hips. America would have felt afraid if France had tried something with him, but he was thankfully spared for some motive he didn't really want to know –you don't look at the gifted horse in the mouth.

"What are you doing here, Alfred?"

"Uh, I finished all my work and I'm bringing the last documents to my boss," he stated, showing France the huge stack of papers he was holding under his arm.

It wasn't even weekend and he had finished already –despite Gilbird's messing with his alarm clocks, his popping around, America's trips to Prussia and such– and it had taken him way less time than he had anticipated.

"It is a good day to be out, so enjoy it as much as you can, mon ami," France suggested, smiling languidly and checking America up and down.

"Piyo~"

France's eyes travelled upwards and to America's hair, noticing the small bird perched there, and smiled fondly.

"Bonjour to you too, Gilbird," he stated, pointing a hand at the bird, who flapped its wings and circled the French Nation twice before landing on his awaiting index. "I see you are keeping America company today, too…"

"Aren't you surprised to see him?" America blinked, observing as the older Nation patted the bird's head affectionately. He hadn't told anyone about the bird's constant presence in his life for the last three weeks.

"Why should I be?" France peered up at him, one finger rubbing at Gilbird's throat. "Dear Gilbert has been sending him over every day since a couple of months ago so that you would cheer up a bit…" a look of surprise appeared on the Frenchman's face, and he stopped petting the bird. "Wait, he didn't tell you? I had thought you would know…"

America blinked in surprise, then looked down at Gilbird, who was pecking France's fingers viciously, looking almost angered that the French Nation had spilled the beans to him.

"Uh… no, I didn't know".

He felt both ashamed and unsettled at not having realised this before. Of course Prussia had taken it so coolly… he'd been the one sending Gilbird over every day!

Why did he do it?

Why would Prussia care if he was overworked or sad? They hadn't been exactly friends before, or even acquaintances, they had talked to each other a total of two, three times in the course of a decade, or something…

Yes, he'd been swarmed by work and he'd been overdoing it, and after Gilbird had started popping around, America had actually been able to breathe and rest more, and despite losing time around he'd even managed to work more efficiently than before, so he had to thank Prussia for that, in a way, yet…

Why?

He'd enjoyed Prussia's company, and he'd not–so–secretly enjoyed Gilbird's as well. Prussia had treated him friendly, joking with him, teasing him, making him relax, and Gilbird had actually helped America relax from morning onwards, and later on, also popping around during the day, making Prussia come over…

Now that America knew, things would probably end. He should call off Prussia's doing and demand to know why he had done that, and Prussia would surely stop, and…

He didn't want it to stop.

He wasn't angry at all, actually. Shocked, yes, and embarrassed, but… not angry.

A part of him wanted Gilbird to still pop around in the mornings, waking him up, flapping his wings and twirling in the air to make him smile.

And he wanted to talk with Prussia, hang out with him, have the albino keep on poking fun at him, too…

"Why?" he asked out loud.

France stared at him with his head tilted to the side, then shook his head with a deep sigh. "Mon cher Alfred, isn't that something you should ask dear Gilbert himself?" he was smiling at him in a non–perverted way, and America fidgeted.

France was right. He'd better give the documents to his boss and go straight to Prussia to demand an explanation. Maybe things wouldn't go that bad, if he just assured the albino that he wasn't angry…

America offered his hand to Gilbird, and the little bird flapped his wings to return to him, briefly nudging at his fingers before returning to his usual spot on the American Nation's head.

"See you later, Francis, I have things to do now!" with a smile, America turned around and ran away, the documents bouncing under his arm and Gilbird clutching at his hair.

France watched him go with a satisfied smile.

…………………………

"Good afternoon, Alfred!"

"You've been lying to me!" America pointed his finger at Prussia, glaring at him.

So yes, America wasn't one for subtlety.

Prussia frowned in confusion, catching Gilbird flying at him with a stretched hand and not taking his attention away from America, who was pouting now.

"About what, Al?"

America flushed a bit, realising just how close he and Prussia had become. He hadn't really noticed, it had been such a smooth passage from the start, and now they were…

"About Gilbird!" America pointed his accusing finger at the bird, who chirped innocently, hiding into Prussia's hair. "Francis said you've been sending him to my house on purpose!"

Prussia's smirk turned downwards for a second, displeased at France's big mouth, and inwardly made a note to punish the Frenchman adequately once he was done here.

"I didn't lie to you, Alfred," he answered, tilting his head to the side. "I just didn't tell you I was the one sending Gilbird over".

America stopped mid–sentence and frowned, recalling all their previous conversations. All Prussia had ever said regarding the subject of Gilbird popping around had been on how the little bird liked adventure, and nothing else.

"… you tricked me, then! You cannot trick a hero!"

"I just didn't outwardly say I was the one opening your window at morning so that Gilbird could go in as he pleased," Prussia sniffed, one hand on his chest. "Nobody would indict me for that".

America's left eyebrow twitched. 'Of course they would!' he thought, but decided not to say that out loud.

He hadn't marched all the way up to Prussia to accuse him. He wanted an explanation.

"Why did you do it?"

Prussia suddenly lost his boisterous attitude and hesitated, scratching the back of his head and looking everywhere but at America; he was obviously thinking up a way to explain that wouldn't make him sound stalkerish or anything.

"It's just… you were overworking yourself," he sniffed, pouting and nudging at Gilbird with a finger. "Francis told me you seemed not to react well to the amount of papers you had, and I didn't want you to get stressed… I have a lot of free time in my hands, so helping out didn't seem that bad".

'Well, of course –Gilbert isn't a Nation anymore, all the things regarding East Germany are usually left to Ludwig… of course he'd have a lot of time to spare,' America grimaced. He still didn't get why the albino had started sending Gilbird to him.

"Well, at first I thought I could grace you with my great presence," Prussia crossed his arms on his chest, almost in defense of his own words, "but then I thought… we haven't had much interaction, have we? I thought you would feel oppressed by my presence, of course!"

America looked to the side, pushing Texas up his nose.

Maybe not oppressed… it wasn't the right term; but indeed, he'd always felt a bit intimidated by the older ex–Nation, who had been through so much and despite having been dissolved during the war, was still around, alive and kicking.

He'd once thought that if by some unlucky happening, his territories had to disappear, or some war caused him to be dissolved into his states, America hoped he'd still be able to exist, and be as badass as Prussia was.

Of course, he wasn't going to admit that to him. Ever.

"So I thought I could send the little guy over. Who wouldn't like him? he's so cute, isn't he?" nudging at Gilbird's head, Prussia made him flap over to America's head, who nodded despite himself. "I didn't think much of it. But then… we clicked, didn't we?"

America shifted unsurely. Yes, they did. He'd liked spending time with Prussia, and it seemed like the feeling was mutual; the knowledge that Prussia had wanted to help him… he still didn't know why, but he still made him feel warm inside.

"Why?" he asked, staring straight at the albino.

"Don't get me wrong," Prussia started, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I always found you interesting, but it's hard to get to know someone who half the time is running around talking about hamburgers and the remaining time is fighting with Arthur for some stupid stuff".

America did a double–take; was Prussia saying that he wasn't easy to approach? It wasn't true at all! He was the most friendly of all Nations there (maybe except Italy, but Italy was an exception to a lot of things)!

"Hey! I'm not like that!" he growled, furrowing his brows and crossing his arms. "You could have just said something… I liked talking with you, and spending time with you, and Gilbert, too, but you didn't have to come up with such a scheme to get to know me!"

So yes, maybe America wouldn't have liked to befriend Prussia before because he would have been a bit scared away by his attitude, but it didn't mean Prussia couldn't have tried!

The albino leaned forwards, tapping America's forehead with a finger, smirking widely. "I had fun too, Al~" he stated, voice light and teasing. "But it was mostly to cheer you up. I didn't want to see you stressed over and sad. The getting to know each other was a bonus, though a welcomed one… so you see, Gilbird also seemed to like his daily trips at your house, so I wouldn't be as awesome if I had to stop something that makes the three of us happy, right?"

Prussia flashed him a smile so bright that America felt all his resistance melting. Not that there was much to begin with.

"I guess" he muttered, smiling back at the albino. "Besides, you did help me relax, and I worked better afterwards, and it was… nice".

Prussia's smile widened considerably at his words. "I'm glad the plan worked in the end! Does that mean we can still hang out together even though your work is done?"

"Of course! I meant it when I said I liked spending time with you, Gil!" America smiled, feeling rather relieved. "I have fun, and you're truly… awesome, indeed!"

Prussia's smile turned into a feral smirk. "Let me try something then?"

"Wha–mmmmmph!"

America had no time to prepare himself –not that he would have managed to understand what Prussia wanted to do before it was too late– because Prussia had already tugged him close by his wrist.

Their bodies collided with each other and America looked up to grunt in annoyance at the ex–Nation, only to have Prussia steal his breath away with a kiss.

'Who the hell he thinks he is! It's not awesome to do something like that!'

Prussia's lips were hard and tasted of a mix of different flavours that America couldn't really discern, and moved against his own, massaging them whilst crimson eyes were open and stared down at him, gauging his reactions.

The American Nation had a half–thought of pushing him away and kick his ass –he was strong enough to do it, after all– yet he wrapped his own arms around Prussia's neck instead, parting his lips as an invite.

Crimson eyes danced in mirth, a growl passing through Prussia's lips to vibrate against the American nation's one, making him shiver.

"Hnnnn…"

America let out a soft groan when a tongue pushed through his lips, licking at the insides of his mouth and curling around his own tongue in a way that made him stop thinking altogether.

Ok, maybe this wasn't that bad.

Actually, it felt good.

He finally started to respond, his own tongue hesitantly coming out to battle Prussia's, trying to get more of the taste; he liked it –the kissing, the flavour, the way his body shivered at the touch, oversensitive and eager for more…

It really felt good.

Prussia's hands sneaked around his waist and held him flush against his body for a second more, then finally let him go, pushing him away a bit; America stumbled backwards, one hand pressed against his lips, snapping out from his trance.

"W–what was that for?" he growled instinctively, pouting.

He was embarrassed, yet he wanted nothing more than latch himself on the ex–Nation's lips again.

Leaning forwards until he was inches from America's face, Prussia smirked predatorily and slowly licked his lips, smirking when America's eyes followed the way his tongue moved.

"Deepening our relationship some more" he replied.

America flushed, and was about to reply when Gilbird made himself known by flopping down between them, chirping happily and pecking at America's cheek.

"Piyo~!"

"See? Gilbird wants to deepen your relationship as well!" Prussia snickered. "What about you, hmm?"

Opening his mouth to reply, America stopped for a second, glaring at both Gilbird and Prussia, before finally breaking down and starting to laugh.

He'd liked kissing Prussia. A lot. It felt right, and he wanted to do it again. He had only started being friendly with the albino a month and a half before, but this felt like the right progression to their… relationship, in a way.

The giddiness he felt, with the whole cliché butterflies in his stomach, made him unable to stop laughing. He was happy.

"Awesome Gilbert," he managed to say amongst his laughing "pick your sorry ass up and offer me a coffee to wipe this disgusting taste from my mouth!"

Prussia smacked him on the arm, "Hey, don't insult me like this, I'll let you know a lot of Nations would do anything to be in your shoes, cheeky American!"

"I want the list!" smiling brightly, America leaned forwards and pressed his lips against Prussia's. the taste was the same as before, and the way his heart thumped in his chest was enough of an answer to America. His smile turned even bigger. "Unless you can find a way to make sure no Nation will want to get in my shoes anytime soon, consider them to be in my black list!"

"You're definitely a cute guy, Al" Prussia teased, but America could see he was almost gloating.

"Are you my possessive bitch now, Gil?"

"I'm nobody's bitch, little Alfred. But I'm definitely possessive over you" he nodded to himself, smirking at how Gilbird chirped appreciatively, "now come on, the awesome me needs to celebrate!"

"Don't forget that the hero needs his coffee, Gilbert!"

Prussia's arm once again around his shoulders, holding him so close America could breathe in his scent, he allowed the older man to drag him towards the closest bar, with Gilbird twirling in the air above them.

It was a good day, and it was going to get even better, America was sure of that.

……………………………………………

SOY: so that was it. I don't quite mind this pairing, I guess, but alas. I blame two friends for the amount of America–related fics I'm writing lately.