Superbrit?--Hetalia USUK

It was a warm Sunday afternoon at America's house in the outskirts of Washington DC. He was currently basking in the sun on his front porch wearing khaki shorts, a DC Comics shirt, and pair of sunglasses while enjoying a cool glass of iced tea (the only good tea that exists according to the American). He was not alone however.  He was accompanied by his Canadian brother who wore a relatively worried glaze. Sure, taking advantage of the lovely weather was a great way to spend your weekend afternoon but, he knew they should really be working on their reports for the world conference tomorrow.  

Canada had been trying to work on his report earlier today before finally being convinced (forced) to take a break. He made America promise that this break would only be a short one, an hour at the most. The likelihood of that happening was slowly deteriorating…okay…the chance was pretty much gone considering that happened approximately five hours ago. Luckily, he was almost done with his report and knew that he could quickly finish when he got back to it. America, on the other hand…well, he rather not think about that.

Canada sighed to himself, turning to his brother who was wiping away the tea he spilled on his superhero shirt after taking a swig of his iced tea. Figuring that he might as well make the best out of the situation, Canada decided that small talk may help him ease his mind.  

"So, America?"  Canada said gently as America propped his sunglasses on top of his head to reveal his real glasses that hid underneath. America always thought it was unfair to not be able to wear sunglasses, seeing as he looked so cool in them. So, he had to have some custom made to fit over his own, some that didn't look lame like the bulky ones they had at drug stores.

"Yeah?" America replied, hoping this wasn't another attempt to get him to go back to work. He thought it was rather obvious that it wasn't going to work after the first two times.

"Have you heard about the new Superm-

"What are you wearing?!" America shouted out interrupting the poor stunned Canadian in a combination of what seemed to be surprise and utter confusion. Canada was completely mystified by his brother's reaction. What could possibly be wrong with what he was wearing? If there was something wrong, why didn't he say something about it sooner?  After examining himself thoroughly, he decided that America was crazy and was about to demand an explanation when he noticed that America's attention was not on him at all.

"That's…not cool!" America shouted again, his attention drawn to the bottom of the small staircase leading to the yard. If it wasn't for the thick pillar in his way, Canada would have been able to see who was at the receiving end of his brother's yells.

"Oh, this?" said a voice that seemed extremely familiar as well as extremely British. Just as America stood up from his lawn chair, Canada saw something he'd never dreamed of seeing.

England, the usually prime and proper gentlemen (unless drunk or provoked by a certain Frenchman or American for that matter) was currently standing there in front of America's house in a….Superman costume?

"Yes, that. Why are you wearing that? Take it off!" America yelled out more as England simply remained standing; arms crossed.

"Well, I just thought it seemed appropriate seeing as an Englishmen has just been cast to play Superman. I thought you would appreciate it." England smirked obviously enjoying the twitching of America's eyes. Truthfully, England had no idea how he ended up with the costume. He remembered being in a quaint little pub he found near his hotel last night. He was attempting to relax a little before the headaches he knew he would soon receive. It wasn't too bad until these two relatively irritating blokes started to speak loudly about who was the best superhero. The conversation they were having just reminded him far too much of America.

England tried very hard to ignore their conversation, tried to drown it all out with…more liquor… until they said something that caught his attention. He wasn't entirely sure why he was so excited…no, not excited...he didn't get excited about such trivial things…but he was intrigued to hear about the recent news about a British actor being cast as Superman for the new film.  At the time he knew that he just had to get out of that pub so, after slamming down enough dollars and probably a pound or two on the counter he wobbly made his way out the door. His recollection after that is quite vague. The only thing he can slightly remember was him trying on different outfits in this strange looking store. Either way, he woke up in his hotel room completely horrified when he noticed what he was wearing. However, after a few hours of debating with himself, a fairy that followed him and again with himself, he decided that he would indeed show up at America's house in this costume. America's reaction would be enough to make him feel better about the half wasted day and the embarrassment he was sure to gain.

This is why he presently stood in front of America's house in a full Superman costume, underwear over the tights and everything. He was also very glad to find that he was right, America's open mouth and twitching eye was fully worth it. "Well? Don't you appreciate my new found interest in your superhero films?"

"No!" America yelled out once more while scratching his head, trying to figure out if what he was witnessing was truly happening or if it was a nightmare he was having after dozing off on his law chair.  

"Hello England."   

"I thought we agreed that Superman was off limits to you and I would stop wearing the Harry Potter costume." America said with a pout. He was resisting the urge to stomp his foot and cross his arms, that would surely escalate he's little outburst into tantrum category.

"Well…yes…" England replied slightly miffed. America couldn't remember important assignments or important dates, but he would remember some idiotic form of truce they made.
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In a cozy home office, decorated by various old paintings, mahogany curtains and an off white carpet sat England at his desk, peacefully doing paperwork.  He sat there humming the tune of 'Hey Jude' along side the small radio that was propped up on the antique wooden bookcase behind him. Though he had been working all morning he found the routine and the gentle drops of rain outside his window to be quite soothing. Putting down his pen, he reached over to his cup of warm tea. Careful to not spill any drops of Earl Grey on his paperwork, he brought the cup to his lips and took a slow and long inhale, just enjoying the aroma.  As he parted his lips in order to take a sip, he anticipated the feeling of the warm liquid going down is throat, yet it never came. For just as he tipped his cup, the door to his office slammed open causing England to jerk his hand in confusion. Fortunately for him, both his trousers and paper work were spared; his carpet however, did not receive the same lucky fate.  

Forgetting about the carpet that soon would have an unsightly stain, England looked up to see the cause of his near heart attack. America stood there, one hand on the frame of the door while the other still held on tightly to the door knob. He looked tired and upset as he practically leaned against the frame and his forehead shined due to the combination of thin sweat and rain. He obviously had been in a hurry to get here.

"You can't have him!" yelled the American in a tone of desperation before he promptly shut the door close.  

England had absolutely no idea what to think about it all. He found himself simply staring at the closed door for quite some time. Just as he was about to shake his head to try to forget about what just happened, the door slammed opened once more. This time, the American didn't stay at the door but instead rushed to the cushy seat in front of England's desk and crossed his arms.

"You can't have him. It's not fair." America said in a much calmer tone then before.

"America…" England started out gently. He didn't know what could have possibly made the American this upset so he decided a soft start was the way to go. "I don't have any idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, sure you don't. Taking him was a sneaky thing you…Brit."

"Now, see here America." England replied losing his patience. He wasn't going to be insulted for something he had no clue about. "I am very busy and do not have time to be insulted for something I had no part in. I still have no idea what you are talking about."

"Batman!" America shouted out causing England to blink in confusion at America's own surprised appearance, apparently he had been trying hard to not have another outburst.

"I beg your pardon. What do I have anything to do with Batman?"

"Exactly! He's my superhero but now there's an English actor being cast to play him in the movie!"

"America, please stop yelling." England replied after cringing at the loud volume of his voice.

"Sorry…" America said almost shyly before pouting once more. "But it isn't fair."

England released a large sigh as he pondered a way to get the American to stop moping around and soaking his office chair. How did he get here anyways? England was fairly certain that he had been at his DC home just the other day. He wouldn't seriously take an improvised trip to London just to yell at him about an English actor would he? Well…yes, he would. "America, I ensure you that I did not know about this and I have no intention of taking your superheroes. Trust me." English finished with a small role of his eyes.

"Fine…but its still not fair…its not like I take…whatever it is that you have…not that I would want to." America responded as England bit his tongue before he said something that would only prolong this nonsense. "Can you at least promise to never take Superman? He's like the epitome of American superhero awesomeness."

"Yes...under one condition." If England was about to promise to do something that he honestly had no control over, he might as well get something out of it. "You have to stop wearing your Harry Potter costume around town when you visit me. The pointing and incorrect pronunciations of spells are beginning to irritate the neighbors." Truth is they have been complaining to him from the very first time America decided to sport the costume around town. At first they seemed to find it entertaining but that shortly came to an end when he started pointing to random people, claiming the looked like the characters and started shouting out spells.

"Ah, that's it? Sure! Anything to save Superman from losing his American superhero awesomeness." America said with a grin.
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"You promised, remember? I went to your office and you promised to-

"Yes, yes. I don't need a retelling of the whole bloody event. I was there, mind you." England said before America had a chance to finish his sentence.

"However, that was before you decided to make a movie with an American as Sherlock Holmes, who is a British Treasure." England really had nothing against the actor. In fact, he thought the actor did a splendid job portraying the world's first and only consulting detective. He even thought the accent wasn't half bad, not that he would tell America this. Besides, if America wanted to be petty about things of this nature then he could be too.  

"Hey... you can't blame that on me. The director to Sherlock Holmes is English so, you made a movie with an American as Holmes." grinned America, fighting back with a surprisingly good argument.

"But you let it happen! This is just proof that even you can ruin a well bred Brit to think like you." Replied England internally cringing at the horrible comeback he knew he just given.

"It's not my fault that they realized how awesome my movie stars are. They're from the great land of Hollywood. So, of course they're the best, especially for action and superhero movies. Those are the movies where my actors really thrive and come to life." America exclaimed with over exaggerated hand gestures.

"Like the Batman movies?" England smirked as America lowered his arms that he still held over his head.

"That was a fluke. It's not like we've had any other superheroes being played by a non-American." America pouted, not liking to be reminded of the "tragedy" of the English Caped Crusader.

"You've had some of my actors as heroes." said Canada calmly from the sidelines.

"Well, apparently your Hollywood knows, in your words, how awesome my movie stars are as well. Now, that they have an Englishman playing the greatest American hero of all time." England said with a tilt of the head, fully enjoying the twitch that found its way back to the American's right eye.

"The Green Hornet actor is Canadian…"

"Yeah. Well. You know what England?" America finally crossed his arms and narrowed his brows. This was getting serious. No one spoke badly about the Man of Steel without repercussions. America was now going to pull out all the stops.  "Your cooking still sucks!" There he had said it, because America knew that when all else failed…insult England's cooking.

"The Green Lantern is Canadian too…"

"What! You take that back! You use to enjoy my cooking!" How dare he take such a cheap shot? America knew that if he wanted to rile England up all he had to do was hit it where it hurt, his pride. His cooking skills were always a sore spot because he really did try hard to cook something not burnt and disgusting, really he did.  

"No, I didn't. I just ate it so I wouldn't hurt your feelings." That was very much true. When America was younger he had no real knowledge of what was supposed to be considered delicious or not.  However, after finally coming to the conclusion that whatever it was that England was feeding him was not the definition of the word, he had no other choice but to force it down. He just couldn't take away the look of pride and joy that was written on England's face whenever America took generous bites of the burnt slush and smiled.

"Well, it's not like you can tell what is good or not, seeing that you stick anything edible down that hole you call a mouth." England fought back.

"You know, the original Captain Kirk is Canadian too..."

"So, you're calling your food inedible since I want to keep it as far away from my mouth as possible?"

"Wha-Never! I'm just saying that you have no sense of taste much less health. Have you ever taken a look at what exactly is in a Big Mac?" England was certain that the commercials about 100% beef were a lie. Those burgers tasted nothing like genuine beef; instead they tasted of only grease and heart attack. How America was able to wolf down a dozen at a time still both baffled and appalled him.

"Hey, your stuff can't be that healthy if its not even real food." Real food isn't supposed to look and taste like charcoal.

"At least it doesn't make me fat. Is it just me or are you getting a bit chubby around the waist? You seem a bit wider. Is your new diet craze not working for you?" If America was going to throw a low blow then England was going to throw one right back at him. America has been obsessed with his weight ever since he weighed himself and did not receive the outcome he was hoping for.  After that he has tried any crazy dieting plan or fad that has probably been just as unhealthy as the burgers he eats every day.  There was the more normal of plans like the 'low carb diet' however, that only led to the 'Grapefruit diet', 'Chewing diet, 'Baby food diet', 'No-solid-food- just-detox-drink diet', and the 'Eat-everything-with-blue-sunglasses-on diet'.

"Hey, I am not fat. This-This… is all muscle. You just don't know what it looks like since you're all small and stuff." America started with a mumble before he gain some of his usual gusto and confidence back.

"Really? Are you positive about that? The last time I checked muscle isn't supposed to jiggle. At least my lean muscles don't." There was no denying that England though smaller in stature was fit and packed a good punch, especially during drunken bar fights.

"Keanu Reeves who is like...the savior of the universe is Canadian…"

"That's not jiggling, it's flexing." America said flexing his right arm before placing his hands on his hips in an odd attempt to appear somewhat majestic.  
England lifted his brows at America as he continued to stand still (or as still as America) stand while tilting his up towards the sky. The glare of the sun hitting his glasses in just the right spot to make it seem like he was shining.

"Right…flexing.  Just like you are doing right now?"

"You know it, babe." America said looking back down at the Brit and shooting a grin. "Don't be jealous because I'm all cool and buff and have better food and actors and movies." He said finishing in a wink.

"Even though you have an English actor as your most important hero?" England smirked, hopefully for another twitch.

He found himself to be quite disappointed as America's reaction was much different then previously. "We just wanted you to get a little taste of awesomeness. You know, since you don't have any real superheroes." Apparently America had found a way to make himself feel better about the whole ordeal. He made it seem like he was doing something generous and heroic by letting the other poor heroless nation have a feel of superhero greatness.

"I'll let you know that we have plenty of superheroes… like Captain Britain and Doctor Who." England answered after a short hesitation.

At this America simply laughed. "Ha, right...besides Captain Britain is still American made. Captain America just needed a much less cool side kick." He ended with a snort.

Looking rather annoyed, England clicked his tongued in a not very gentlemen fashion. "Doctor Who is still much superior to your Captain America. Even your American fanboys know that."

"Matthew Perry is half Canadian. Not that he's a hero or action star or anything but 'Friends' was pretty popular…."

"Aw, you wish England." America smiled sympathetically as he reached out to pat the shorter nation on the head only to get it knocked away. "Everyone recognizes my superheroes. So, I win when it comes to superheroness, me being a perfect example."

"Oh, why yes, of course! You are the best example of what is to be considered superheroness!" England exclaimed with what he hoped was enough sarcasm that anyone even America would understand. He was sure that even people who have never heard of bit of English was able to hear it.

"There we go. Now you get it." England sighed at the lost meaning of his words as America smiled and patted him on the back. "So, now that you've admitted to my awesome heroicness. How about we go get some real food? I'm starving." He whined while rubbing his stomaching in a circular motion.

England sighed once more giving up, it was a lost cause. "Yes, fine…." He hung his head slightly getting a reminder that he was still wearing that dreaded tight costume. "But let me get out of this first."

"Awesome." America said with a small hop. "I think you still have some clothes here from the last visit."  America walked towards the door as England, who still feeling a tad bit upset about the turn out of this event, followed behind.

"Can I come too?"

England stopped America from his first step in to the house with a hand on his arm. America paused and looked down at England with a curious expression as he noticed that he too held a confused look. "Did you say something, America?" England finally asked.

"Nah" America shook his head. "It was probably my stomach." He said with a shrug.

"Oh, Alright." America's answer being enough to satisfy him, England let go of his arm and let him continue on into the house. "Well, let's get that stomach of yours fed then. Perhaps, I'm in a need for some food as well if I'm starting to hear things."

"Other then your imaginary fairies?" America laughed as he shut his front door after England made his way through into the house and promptly yelled at him to not start up another argument.  

The rest of the day was spent nicely…for the most part. After England changed into much more appropriate attire and an argument about eating at McDonalds, America and England were able to agree on a local deli. It was all going well until they soon became confused and slightly frightened (completely terrified in America's case) as they noticed an extra plate on their table with slowly disappearing food.  To make matters worse, America never did get back to working on his report for the world meeting. This meant he would have to "wing it" with some outrageous plan involving robots and bottle rockets in order to save the rain forest. It was because of this grand speech that England vowed to himself to not let America figure out that the new Spiderman happened to be half British.

[A few days later]
Canada lied down peacefully on his couch snuggling up to his polar bear friend when he suddenly jolted up to a seating position. The polar bear looked up angrily at his owner from his new found position on the floor.  "What a minute." Canada said to himself, his bear giving him a curious look. "Superman was co-created by a Canadian-born artist!"
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"Are you alright?" England asked America who sat next to him on the porch, looking quite concerned. They had been sitting, just enjoying the evening sky when England noticed America shiver. It was slowly getting cooler but he didn't think it was enough to make the American shake in such a manner.

"Yeah, I'm cool." America said placing a hand on his heart. "I kind of felt really bad…all over…for a brief moment."

"I bet it's the fifteen burgers you eat ate an hour ago. I told you not to shove them in your mouth five at a time."

"Yeah…I guess you were right."