Announcement: This piece inspired me to write another Olympics USUK fic that's sort of a fluffy companion piece to this one (well, not really, but they're both set at the Olympics and they share a few reoccurring jokes, so I'm going to say it is anyways). It's T-rated and set in a modern AU. I'm posting it immediately after putting up this chapter, so you can find it under the name 'Bullseye.'

Chapter Rating: T for mild language and brief mentions of sex. I'm not sure if omake smut is a thing, but I'm all smutted out, so enjoy some fluff instead :)

London Olympics 1908 – Blame France, Part Deux

"Australasia?" America asked in confusion as the flag bearers began to march past. America squinted, suspecting he needed a stronger prescription for Texas. He turned to look at the country in question and asked, "I thought your name was Austria?"

"Australia," the friendly, dark-haired nation corrected with a laugh. Australia took the all-too-common butchering of his name in stride, unlike Austria, who always played a furious Chopin melody whenever someone referred to him by the name of the land down under.

"We went with Australasia because Australia and I are competing together," New Zealand added. The young Dominion leaned forward, waving at the small cohort of competing New Zealanders as they walked past.

"Yep, Zea didn't have enough athletes to compete, since there are only so many events you can train sheep to do," Australia teased his younger sibling, leaning over to ruffle New Zealand's fluffy blond hair.

"At least I wasn't the one who suggested using kangaroos as boxers," New Zealand retorted.

America grinned at the good-natured siblings. They really reminded him of someone, but the name escaped him at the moment. He focused his mind back on the more important matter at hand. "Boxing kangaroos? That sounds incredible!"

Australia's smile broadened. "I know, mate! I was also considering wrestling crocodiles. Next time you visit, you should come have some fun with the crocs and the 'roos."

America nodded excitedly and continued to chatter with Australia about their plan for the 'best zoolympics ever.' England simply sighed and tried to ignore the fact that his former colonies were absolute nutters. He told himself reassuringly that it certainly wasn't his fault, but for once he was having trouble figuring out who to blame. He finally decided that in the absence of a better choice, he would stick the blame where it normally fell.

And on the other side of the stadium, France sneezed.

Author's Notes

This was part of the original opening segment for the 1908 section, but I took it out because my stories already suffer from the problem of having lots of people sitting around talking. That said, I decided to post it as an omake because I really, really want to see the Zoolympics. Seriously, America and Australia, get working on this!

London Olympics 1948 – M&Ms and Cheerios

"Hey, England! Thanks for letting me stay at your pad!" America stood grinning in the doorway with a ridiculous number of bags dangling from his broad shoulders.

"It's no problem," England gestured for America to come inside and hid his wince as America tracked dirt onto his nice carpets. "Why so many bags?"

"My sporting equipment! I wanted to make sure I had time to practice so that I definitely take home all the medals. A hero has to get the gold, you know."

"Mmm," England replied noncommittally, thinking of his own slim odds in winning many of the coveted gold medals. "Are you hungry?" he asked. He knew it was a somewhat pointless question (in all the years he had known America, was there ever a time when America wasn't hungry?), but he asked anyways because he was a gentleman.

America laughed. "Oh, you don't have to worry about giving me any of your disgusting food, I brought my own!" He held out a bag of small o-shaped cereal pieces and brightly-colored chocolate candies. Why were they brightly colored? Wasn't brown a perfectly acceptable color for chocolates? Who thought that bright red and bright blue would make it taste better?

"What is that?" England asked in distaste.

"M&Ms and cheerios!" America responded with his mouth full, making England scowl even more at his lack of manners. "My folks just invented them a few years back. You want to try some? They're incredibly delicious." America offered the open bag to England.

England just pushed it way. "Gods no, that looks disgusting."

"England, you're not one to talk about disgusting food." America grinned, still munching away on the chocolate and dry cereal mixture.

"My food is perfectly lovely you uncultured oaf!" England snapped back. "And if you just eat sweets and cereal the entire time you'll be too fat to win any medals." He glared at America. Only two minutes into America's stay and they were already in one of the never-ending arguments. America just seemed to unthinkingly push all of England's buttons.

England forced himself to calm down. Everyone complained about his food (just proving their stupidity), so there was no reason to get extra upset at America. "Well, you know where the bedroom is," England said with a wave toward the stairs. "I'll be in the kitchen eating my delicious lunch, if you need anything."

America nodded and carried his bags up the stairs with no visible effort, muttering under his breath that he wasn't fat because he clearly worked out all the time.

As England ate his own slim lunch, it occurred to him that America might have brought his own food to be kind, since he knew England was still rationing. England had been worried about how he was going to feed his bottomless pit of a boyfriend. But why couldn't America just say so, instead of hiding his kindness behind an insult? This thought in mind, England made his way up to the bedroom and watched from the door as America unpacked his clothes and equipment.

"I wouldn't mind trying some of those M&Ms now," he said.

America perked up immediately and brought over the bag. "Sure thing, England!" He watched with a happy grin as England carefully ate a few of the colorful chocolate pieces. "What do you think?" America asked.

"It's very sweet," England replied, earning a huge grin from America, who considered 'very sweet' to be the highest praise possible for food.

Almost as sweet as you, England added to himself.

Author's Notes:

England and America! Stop being so disgusting sweet and go have sex already! XD

Cheerios and M&Ms were both first sold commercially in 1941 and became popular during WWII. Since McDonald's didn't start until 1955, I decided it would be more historically accurate to give America a month's supply of Cheerios and M&Ms (I am all about historical accuracy, obviously). I think they taste pretty good mixed together, but maybe I'm just dangerously American.

London Olympics 2012 – Oh, Canada

At the gathering of nations after the opening ceremony, America spotted his brother and immediately glomped him. Canada was stronger than he appeared and familiar with exuberant American affection, so he simply smiled indulgently and patted America on the back.

America pulled back and grinned happily, slapping Canada on the shoulder. "Hey bro! I didn't realize you were here! I didn't see your athletes in the parade of nations."

"What?" Canada asked softly. "B-but, they were wearing 'Canada' across their chests!" He had helped designed the uniforms himself, certain that this year other countries would finally notice him.

America shrugged. "Huh, doesn't ring a bell."

"I don't recall seeing them either," England added.

"Maybe next time you should use neon lights!" America suggested helpfully, before he grabbed England and made a beeline for the buffet.

Canada sighed. He really needed something to cheer himself up, so he went to find Prussia. He found his boyfriend unsuccessfully arguing with Olympic officials about whether 'Prussia' should have been included in the Parade of Nations. So far, the officials weren't giving in, despite his description of his 'awesome' outfits.

"No one noticed my athletes even though I wrote Canada on the uniforms!" Canada complained softly, once he caught Prussia's attention.

"Well, it's a stupid parade because they won't let the awesome me in it. You know what we should do?"

Canada smiled. "Sex and pancakes?"

"Fuck yeah," Prussia replied eagerly, already licking his lips in anticipation.

No one noticed when they left the gathering. All things considered, there were certain benefits to being invisible.

Author's Notes:

Seriously, the Canada team uniform says "Canada" right across the front of their red hoodies. Canada dear, you might be trying too hard. Hmm, now I want to write PruCan smut involving hot and sticky maple syrup. I will never look at breakfast the same way again.

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