Christmas was a bit of an awkward time. Hong Kong always had a good time celebrating it with him, but despite his age, he knew as well as England did that there was always something missing, some element that kept the picture from being complete.

England was fairly sure that Hong Kong knew what it was, too. Not that he would ever say it.

It was an uncomfortable topic, more so for England than Hong Kong, who didn't quite grasp the intricacies of England's relationship with said missing element, but it wasn't just their relationship that England worried about when considering bringing the absent link into the picture.

China wasn't Christian.

Needless to say, it made the idea of a complete Christmas a little uncomfortable, to say the least of the custody issue over Hong Kong.

England thought about it every year, though. Would this year be the year he finally decided to reconcile with China? Would this be the year they could exchange gifts together? Would this be the year that they could have a wonderful dinner, just the three of them?

Would this be the year that they could finally be a family?

But every year, it wasn't.

He knew he had to make the first move, though. China had over four thousand years of pride that would keep him from ever requesting to be a part of the festivities on his own. Not to mention that the time when England would have to return Hong Kong to China was fast approaching, and hell would freeze over before China would willingly invite England to be a part of anything at his house, at least at this rate.

Christmas loomed over them, almost like the presence of a surprise party that you had already been tipped off about. Hong Kong awoke most days with a near expectant look in his eyes, but every day, England pretended not to notice that knowing little spark and sent him down to breakfast, as was routine.

It was eight days before Christmas when England finally found himself tumbling off the deep end with no idea how he'd gotten there.

"Wèi."

He had to be crazy. "China?"

There was no way he would try something like this otherwise.

He could almost see China's face souring on the other end of the line. "Hello, Opium. What do you want, ahen?"

England cleared his throat in discomfort. "I…wanted to ask you something," he confessed.

"You do know how early it is over here, ahen?" intoned China, unimpressed.

"I knew you would be awake," retorted England. "You're an early riser."

There was a silence on the other end of the line, and it came with a tiny swell of victory. "Well, what did you want to ask, ahen?" the eldest eventually came back with. The warm feeling of triumph was immediately flattened, replaced with the shakiness of anxiety.

"…well. I…" England felt a lump of opposition rise in his throat. "I was just wondering…if…" He trailed off, swallowing.

The younger nation grasped frantically for the words, but in the time it took him to even begin to compose the question in his brain, China shattered all of his hard work with an impatient, "Wondering what, ahen?"

"-if you had prepared any shipments of tea," fumbled England, defeat creeping up on him. "Demand is getting higher, with the…holidays coming, and all."

China made a noise in disgust. "I have other things to worry about, ahen! You'll get your tea when you get it!" England couldn't help but cringe at China's tone, especially when he continued in harsh Mandarin, "Nǐgěiwǒgǔn!" before hanging up abruptly.

The former empire heaved a defeated sigh, placing the phone back on the receiver. Well, that was an abysmal failure. Maybe this wouldn't be the year after all.

"England?"

The gentlemanly nation spun with a jolt towards the quiet voice, eyes wide in alarm. "Hong Kong?" he replied dumbly, despite the young territory being quite visibly in front of him.

"Was that China?" he asked coolly. If there was one thing about Hong Kong that never failed to unnerve England, it was those eyes; it didn't seem fair in the least that he had the same perceptive gaze that China did.

"…yes," responded the kingdom simply. "Just business inquiries."

Hong Kong stared at England, countenance level and unchanging. England didn't know if that meant he bought it or not. The older island gave a small sigh, stroking the top of the young Asian's hair before kissing the crown of his head gently. "Go to bed," instructed England softly. "I'll have breakfast ready in the morning."

Following some heavy seconds of silence, Hong Kong hugged England around the waist before he shuffled wordlessly out of the room.

Only when England was sure that his territory was out of earshot did he let out a groan. There had to be something he could do.

The next day, he ended up calling China again, making sure to wait until after Hong Kong had gone to sleep. He was greeted with the same polite "wèi" as before, and just as before, when he revealed his identity, China reverted to his caustic opium-peppered insults.

"What do you want now, ahen?" he prodded irritably. "I already told you about the tea-"

"Not that," England interrupted, something he would have frowned upon in any other circumstance, had his heart not been beating quite so fast. "It's…"

The other end was quiet, waiting for England to finish. Again, he found himself with that sticky feeling in his throat, a mass that caught all the words he intended to say. "I was wondering if…" he tried again, breath hitching on the request.

"…if you…" The fuzzy sound of low static on the phone was almost suffocating. He wished China would interrupt again. "…knew what Hong Kong's favorite color is," the isle finished lamely. In his mind's eye, he saw China staring at him with that disbelieving deadpan.

"Really," the older civilization responded flatly.

"Really," parroted England.

"I don't know, Opium- you're the one he's been living with for more than a century now, why don't you tell me?" A few words in Mandarin came after the query, leading England to believe it was rhetorical, before China spat out, "Gǔn kāi!" and, again, hung up on him.

The United Kingdom sighed. Failure number two.

He'd try again tomorrow.

"Wèi."

"Good morning."

"-ai-ya, again? Can you even tie your own shoelaces, ahen?"

He felt like he should probably be more insulted at that, but, with his streak of dumb questions so far… "There's a…"

Goddamnit, why was this so difficult? He was acting like a lovesick teenager!

…no, that was absurd. He was simply anxious because he was trying to ask a favor of someone who didn't like him, and that favor happened to go against that person's religious beliefs. That was perfectly reasonable. "Lovesick teenager", that was just dumb.

"…it's…"

"Just spit it out, ahen, or my breakfast will burn!"

"-America was nagging me to make him Chinese food and I was wondering if you had any recipes."

"Look in a cookbook, ahen! Perhaps that way your food will actually turn out edible! Gǔndàn!"

Click.

Onto attempt number four.

"Hello, ahen?"

Oh. China knew it was him. That couldn't be a good sign.

"You don't seem surprised."

"Well, this seems to have become an everyday thing, ahen. What is it now?"

"Would you…" Oh damnit. "…make sure to…be careful of faeries today? They're feeling quite mischievous."

"…faeries, ahen."

"What? I know you can see them too!"

"Zǒu kāi."

Click.

Four days until Christmas. This wasn't that hard.

"What is it today, a- go away, I am on the phone, aru!"

England's brows furrowed as a crash sounded on the other end of the line, followed by a very angry "ai-ya!" "China?" he tried cautiously.

There was a clatter and what sounded like someone rubbing something against the mouthpiece of the phone before a voice made him pull the phone away from his ear with its volume. "Who's talking to aniki, da-ze~?"

England hung up.

Alright, today was going to be the day. He was the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, he could do this!

"What is your question, Opium."

…that…wasn't a friendly tone. "I wanted to know if…" China was deathly silent on the other end of the line. "…you…enjoyed yourself with Korea yesterday."

"Qù sǐ ba huǒ!"

Click.

Two days until Christmas.

If he didn't do it tonight, he wasn't going to get another chance - especially because it was already Christmas Eve over there.

England dialed the number that he had memorized by now and brought the phone to his ear.

"Wèi." China seemed to have either forgotten who he was speaking to or had grown tired of yelling at him.

"Good morning," England greeted. "Would you-"

"What do you really want, ahen?" China cut him off neatly, surprising the island. "You've called me every day for a week now with stupider questions each time, ahen," he explained before asserting, "There has to be something else you want."

England balked, mouth opening and closing repeatedly like a fish in a tank. There had to be an easy response to that. Maybe something like 'I want you to be here for Christmas'. Or, shortened, perhaps just 'you'.

No, that was ridiculous.

"England," warned the Asian, commanding his heart to do flip-flops with the rare usage of his name instead of drug-based insults. "I'm going to hang up if you don't ask what you really want to ask me, ahen."

"I was wondering if you'd like to come over for Christmas dinner," spit out the blond in a tumbled flurry of words. "As- as a present. To Hong Kong. …He'd like to see you."

England waited for the telltale click. It didn't come. "…what, aru?"

His breath hitched. No "opium". "…I know it's short notice. I'm sorry."

"…you'll let me see Hong Kong, aru?" questioned China in a voice just above a whisper.

The younger nation hesitated, unsure of how to deal with the strange tone in his conversational partner's voice. "Of course," he eventually replied, his teeth catching his bottom lip. "I'll pay for the plane ticket-"

"Don't worry about it, aru," said China hurriedly. "I'll be there. Hěn kuài zàijiàn." And then came the click. But this time, it wasn't partnered with the feeling of defeat or failure; this time, it came with an overwhelming sense of relief. He would have to pick China up from the airport, and he just realized they hadn't discussed times at all, but it would work out.

It really shouldn't have been that difficult to ask in the first place; it was for Hong Kong, after all. Not him. Absolutely not.

When he finally collected himself enough to hang up the phone, he did so without noticing the discerning pair of dark eyes watching him from the shadows of the adjacent hallway.

Christmas morning arrived with the dank wetness that London was well-known for. It had snowed on Christmas Eve, but the accumulation on the ground had quickly melted into gray slush. It wasn't exactly the most picturesque Christmas. England didn't mind, though; too much snow and China's flight may have been delayed.

He didn't normally purchase a tree (the second year that he did so, Hong Kong set it ablaze with firecrackers; England never did figure out if it was purposeful or not, so he gave up on the endeavor following that incident), but this year, he decided to invest in one. China, at the very least, might be entertained by the notion of decorating it. In addition, he'd decorated the house interior, albeit in a conservative and nowhere near extravagant manner. He lacked the patience to do too much at the last minute. Nonetheless, he hoped Hong Kong would like it - he hoped China would like it.

His guest had arrived early Christmas morning - early enough that England would even hazard to call it late Christmas Eve night. England bade him to sleep in the guest room and try not to make too much noise, so they could surprise Hong Kong when the child awoke. He'd tried to apologize for possibly imposing on China's religion - or formal lack of one - but (to his immeasurable relief), was met only with a response of "Anything for Hong Kong, aru."

Which honestly, only left the question of why he still felt so nervous.

Maybe he was worried about how Hong Kong would react. After all, he hadn't seen China in over a century; maybe England would be left in the dust in the wake of their tearful reunion.

…that couldn't be it. He sincerely doubted that the child would allow that to happen; Hong Kong was smarter than people gave him credit for sometimes. He would pick up on the atmosphere.

But, the time to worry was quickly ticking out, as England was poised in front of the younger Easterner's door and ready to knock. He took in a deep breath and let it out as a nervous sigh before rapping his knuckles against the wood. "Hong Kong?"

"Come in," the boy welcomed him, so he opened the door. He was met with the sight of his colony, wide awake and reading at his desk. When the door creaked open, he turned his face up to stare at England.

The empire met his gaze with a smile, greeting him with a soft, "Merry Christmas, my boy." Hong Kong slipped out of his chair and padded over to England without a word, standing before the threshold of the room and boring up into his guardian with an expectant gaze.

England smiled, offering his hand to the colony. Hong Kong took it, and together the pair started away from the bedroom. "Come now, I have a surprise for you," began the European, "I think you're going to like it."

He led the child through the hallways and down the stairs until they were in the corridor adjacent to the sitting room, only a corner away from their complete Christmas. At that point, England paused to let go of Hong Kong's hand, smiling. "Go on," he encouraged. A short, silent glance was his response before the young Oriental passed through the doorway.

China sat on the couch, with his teacup empty, and his hands shaking and clenched in his lap. One leg was folded tautly over the other and he bounced the heel of his foot against the carpet; as soon as Hong Kong entered the room, China snapped to attention, laying his eyes on the boy that he had missed for so long.

He didn't contain his excitement, darting to his feet with an excited shout of the territory's name and a surge forward and down to envelope Hong Kong in a tight hug. "I've missed you, aru," the eldest nation confessed, his voice hiding a tremble.

"I've missed you too," responded the younger Asian quietly, returning the embrace with less force but no less meaning. China laughed an almost disbelieving laugh, and continued to do so when he pulled away to brush some of Hong Kong's fringe out of his face.

"You've grown, huh? I guess Opium has been taking care of you, aru," sighed China nostalgically, smiling as he set his palms against Hong Kong's cheeks. "Merry Christmas."

England watched with a tiny smile that hid no small amount of guilt; he had been the one to separate the two, after all.

When they were finally content with their greetings, China straightened, gathering his composure. His movements were curious as he peeked around, absorbing all the decorations, before finally his attentions settled on the bare evergreen tree set up in front of the window.

"I thought, perhaps, we could decorate it together," explained England awkwardly. A look of understanding dawned on the other country, but it wasn't long before he had to make a query.

"Where are the ornaments, aru?"

Oh, damnit. The Briton groaned, his hand hitting his forehead. "In the attic," he lamented. He hadn't even thought about that, he hadn't needed them in so long. China snorted behind his hand, choking back a laugh.

"It's alright. We can just make ornaments, aru! Do you have any construction paper?"

They'd spent more time cutting snowflakes and strings of garland for the tree out of red and green paper than they did actually decorating it, mostly because England had lost patience around the fourth butchered snowflake and they had a deficit of complete ornaments. But they spread them out evenly and China even folded an intricate-looking tree-topper ("I don't care what Japan claims, I taught him this, aru,"), leaving only the preparation of dinner.

Which, of course, China insisted on commandeering, loathe to "risk his health" by consuming English food. England wasn't sure which was more embarrassing; China's adamant refusal to eat his food under any circumstances or the fact that his guest was cooking for him on such an occasion.

They ate without incident, though (unless one counted England almost losing a finger from China's overprotective reaction to England trying to help as an "incident"), and it was almost surreal. England could hardly believe that they hadn't always been like this; hadn't always been a family. China spoke animatedly - mostly to Hong Kong, granted, who took it in with his usual quiet interest - seeming entirely devoid of any drug-related grudges.

Why, again, had this been such a difficult thing to ask for?

After dinner, they sent Hong Kong into the living room to open the presents left for him underneath the tree, China watching the colony through the doorway into the room while England cleaned up.

"I'm sorry that I didn't bring anything, aru," said the Eastern country when he felt England's presence approach. "I didn't have any time to shop, with all the other preparations for the trip, aru."

"It's alright," consoled the island without looking at China, eyes fixated on Hong Kong, who was fiddling with the tape on the box of one of his gifts. "I'm sure he's just happy that you're here."

"England." Hong Kong's voice startled him, and he set a hand against the doorway, straightening up and starting in the direction of the tree under the assumption that Hong Kong needed help getting something open. He paused when the boy shook his head, and his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. A tiny hand directed his attention upwards with a point.

He first looked to the ceiling and saw nothing but his chandelier and dust. When his search yielded no results, he looked questioningly at his territory, who only sighed. "The doorframe," specified Hong Kong.

England tried again, tilting his head to look along the frame. They traveled up and across until he located what the child was indicating: a fresh, verdant sprig of plant adorned with rounded leaves and clusters of white berries.

"Wh-" The kingdom sputtered, eyes narrowing at the innocuous decoration. "I didn't hang that. Hong Kong, did you-"

"It's mistletoe," was Hong Kong's only answer. England looked across from him, where China was also studying the leafy twig, though with notably much more bemusement than the European in front of him.

The implications hit England like a truck, drawing out a protest. "I am not-"

"What is it, aru?" China interrupted, cutting off England's tirade at the start. "I don't understand."

…he wasn't sure if that made this better or worse.

"It's…mistletoe," he blanched, lips curling into a frown at his own fumbling. "That is- it's a tradition here, and in America as well. When a couple meets under it - not that I put it there! I don't use it, so I can avoid…well, when a couple meets under it…" He sighed, energy depleted from his vehement denials. "They're supposed to kiss."

China's facial expression changed over the span of a few seconds. First it indicated confusion, which became indignity at the suggestion, and at that point England had to check himself to make sure his own face didn't betray his- hurt? But then the corners of China's mouth twitched. The tiny motion gave way to laughter, leading one hand to China's stomach to support it while he doubled over. "You're joking, aru! Ahh, you had me there for a second, Opium- you Europeans have such weird senses of humor, aru, I actually believed you!"

The isle found himself conflicted. A tightening feeling seized the pit of his stomach, his fists clenching and unclenching repeatedly. "China," he cut in, provoking the stop of the giggles. As soon as those eyes began to search him, England set his hands on his companion's shoulders and caught his lips before hesitation could bring him to pull back.

He waited with bated breath for China to punch him and revert back to his harsh attitude, rewinding all the progress they had made with this visit, but no impact ever came; in fact, it almost felt like China started to kiss back, but that was probably just his mind playing tricks on him.

When he went to pull back, though, and found a hand on his neck halting his progress, that was confirmation enough that he wasn't crazy; or, maybe that they both were.

The second time he tried to retreat, China allowed him to, but very reluctantly, the hand at his nape tightening. The ancient nation's breathing seemed to have gotten a little shallow (though he was doing a bang-up job of hiding it) and his face was flushed to his neck. England hoped he wasn't that red.

China didn't seem to know what to say, staring up at England with his lips parted - England had to avert his eyes, because that face really made him want to go back to kissing and he didn't exactly want to push his luck.

"You weren't joking, aru," was the remark to break the silence. England had to chuckle, but it seemed the laughter loosed his control of his mouth.

"Unless I made it up to have an excuse to kiss you."

Wow, that sounded like something out of one of America's dime-a-dozen romantic comedies. And was also really incriminating. Whoops.

When he summoned up enough courage to glance back at his companion, China was as red as ever, his mouth moving like he wanted to say something.

"He wasn't joking," Hong Kong vouched, to England's relief. "But he did really want to kiss you." The second part, less to his relief.

"-Hong Kong!" England interrupted defensively, trying to suppress his no doubt rapidly surfacing blush. China's laughter from next to him disrupted the remainder of his reprimand.

"Well, he needs to be more creative, aru," prodded China, a good-natured tone in his voice as he fiddled with England's tie. "I won't fall for it next time."

Next time?

There was going to be a next time.

China wanted a next time.

He knew the jab at his creativity should have offended him, but he was a bit too preoccupied with laughing deliriously at the happy revelation. The oldest in the room eyed him with folded arms and a smile. "You're so weird, aru."

A tug at his shirt pulled his attention to Hong Kong, eliciting more laughs. "Merry Christmas," said England, unsure of who he was really saying it to.

"Merry Christmas," parroted Hong Kong. He sounded less than enthusiastic, but a good look at him and England had learned to tell when the truth was otherwise.

"Shèngdàn jié kuàilè." When England looked to him in confusion, China only gave a knowing smile and pulled the island nation in for another kiss.

He couldn't wait for next year.

Notes: Wèi - telephone greeting.
Nǐgěiwǒgǔn - get out of my sight
Gǔn kāi - get lost
Gǔndàn - scram/get out
Zǒu kāi - go away
Qù sǐ ba huǒ - die in a fire
Hěn kuài zàijiàn - see you soon
Shèngdàn jié kuàilè - Merry Christmas
MOST OF THIS IS GOOGLE TRANSLATED. SO IT'S PROBABLY WRONG. SO DON'T USE IT AS A REFERENCE FOR IDK, YOUR FRIEND WHO IS GOING TO CHINA OR SOMETHING.

origami - Some Chinese scholars believe that origami, the Japanese art of paper-folding, actually had its origins in China.
Christianity - Christianity is a minority religion in China and is not officially recognized. The majority of China (40-60%) is agnostic or non-religious, with Buddhism being the next largest religious group behind that.
mistletoe - Mistletoe is more a European and American tradition than it is a Chinese one.

A/N: i am slightly late. but. better late than never? D; merry Christmas, everyone!