I don't really have an excuse for this except that in my History class we were going over the Revolutionary War and ever since I've been wanting to write a fic like this. It's sort of like a "modern Revolution?"

Disclaimer: I do not own UK or US or Hetalia... although I am both XD

The sky was dark. Clouds blocked the sun from view, only opening to release a steady rain that beat against the hard field. The ground slowly turned to mud. The sound of Converse against the pavement as the blonde country ran through the sheet of rain could be heard even over the showers.

He panted, tears in his eyes as he ran as fast as he could down the street. He had to know if it was true. Two hands strangled the life from his heart. He felt the rain mix with his tears on his face and soak his white shirt, clinging it to his skin. I must know.

He turned down off the path down a long driveway. The house that stood before him was an old style home, built in the Gilded Age of American history. He looked up at it, pausing to see a light on in the window of his lover's bedroom. He felt a flash of fury. It flittered away as he saw shadows moving in the light. He felt sadness take over his body. He sobbed and burst through the front door.

He knew the house better than even his own. He had spent so much of his time in it, with the owner of the home. It was America's home. He felt his heart wrench as he heard his lover's laugh from the top of the stairs. Followed immediately by his lover's deep, throaty moan. He ran up the staircase, anger blending with anguish and agony. It can't be true! It can't be!

Then he heard the all too familiar laugh. France's laugh. It sounded amused and happy, but it sent a cold rush through England's body as he reached the second landing.

"No." He felt tears run down his cheeks, his voice a mere whisper. He burst into America's bedroom.

"England!" America called from his compromising position beneath France. They laid, bare on America's bed, France pinning America on his back. The younger country was covered in hickey's and he, as well as France, was fully erected.

England stood in the doorway, tears running down his cheeks. His worst fear had been confirmed. America was cheating on him. "S-So… y-you and France?" He said, his lip trembling, sniffling as he stared at them.

America pushed the other man off of him, trying to get to his lover. "England-."

England backed away, shaking his head. He surrendered, his heart ripped into pieces. "I hate you, America." He said, his voice cracking under the weight of his agony. He turned and ran, leaving America holding his hand out to try and stop England's leaving, but he could only watch as England disappeared down the hallway…

… never looking back.

Revolution- End

I was in a similar situation once... only slightly reverse the America and France. I was dating a Frenchman and he cheated on me with an American... I was crushed.

Did anyone catch the whole Revolutionary innuendo bit? America and France were allied against England?