Hashtag? – Axis Powers Hetalia, AmeLiet

[thecrazyalaskan]

Title: Hashtag?
Author: fireweed15
Fandom / Setting: Axis Powers Hetalia
Characters / Pairings: AmeLiet (America x Lithuania / Alfred F Jones x Toris Laurinaitis
Word Count: 877
Rating: T
Warnings / Notes: Written for Round 8 of the Hurt / Comfort Bingo: Fever / Delirium; dubiously self-translated Lithuanian
Summary: America and Lithuania's lunch plans are slightly derailed.

I'm gonna sail the USS AmeLiet into the goddamned sunset. also I'm shameless Hamilton trash so there you go 

 

-- -- -- 

In all, the morning could have gone so much worse, especially given the fact that as host Nation, America was in charge of this quarter's conference. All the same—

"Alright, that wraps up the morning." He shuffled his notes into a pile on the podium. "We'll call it a two-hour lunch, meet back here at one-thirty—have a good one, and if anyone needs lunch recommendations, hit me up."

The assembled Nations started to disperse, splintering into groups to coordinate plans, both immediate and later in the day. America finished gathering up his notes and pens and even managed to get them neatly into a folder before cramming it into his briefcase. Alright—everything had gone great so far! This was going awesomely so far!

He started to make his way across the room, pausing occasionally to answer a question or give directions. Finally—"Hey Toris!" He dropped into the chair next to Lithuania. "Sorry I didn't catch up with you this morning—hadta deal with those pre-conference jitters, y'know?" He lightly punched Lithuania's shoulder. "So I promised you lunch—where to?"

It was at this point America realized that Lithuania hadn’t acknowledged a word he'd said, his chin still his in hand. "Hey, still with us?" he teased, shaking Lithuania's shoulder now.

"Mmm?" Finally roused, he lifted his head, blinking. "Ei, Fredas." His voice was warm but oddly hoarse as he reached out and took America's hand. "I'm ready whenever you are."

"Are you okay?" He squeezed Lithuania's fingers.

"Yeah—just a little under the weather," he replied, lifting America's hand to his lips and kissing the backs of his fingers.

Part of America couldn’t help but melt at the affectionate gesture—a bigger part of him was concerned. It was never simply "under the weather" with him, and he'd known him since the twenties. As Lithuania released his hand, he rested it on the former's cheek. "Are you sure it's just a little?" he asked, his voice dropping to a low murmur as he moved his hand to Lithuania's forehead. "You're really hot right now…"

"I'm—" He started to protest, but ultimately seemed to decide against it. "I've felt better…"

"New plan," America announced, sweeping Lithuania's notepads into his briefcase, as well. "You're going to take the rest of the afternoon off and fight this—we can crash at my place."

"Bethesda?" Lithuania asked, taking his briefcase.

"Nah, I got an apartment in Bloomingdale," America clarified, lopping his arm through Lithuania's as they stood. "Gotta be close to the action sometimes, y'know?"

Lithuania nodded, running his free hand through his hair. "Thank you."

"No problem." Despite his light words, America was clearly intent on getting back to the aforementioned apartment before he allowed himself to settle.

✪✪✪

Lithuania was asleep almost as soon as America closed the passenger door. Perhaps that alone was testament to how exhausted he was, America mused as he parked in front of the apartment building. "Hey." He reached over and gently shook his companion's shoulder. "We're here."

Lithuania was slower to wake this time. "Jau?"

"Yeah, already, dude," America confirmed, opening the door and coming around to do the same for Lithuania. "Just a ten minute drive." He grabbed both briefcases and let his companion link their arms. "I'll do lunch—you can borrow a pair of my pajamas, sound good?"

He hummed in tired agreement as America unlocked the door and led him up a short flight of stairs. "Nothing fancy," he requested. "You don't need to go to a lot of effort—"

"Have I ever not taken care of you?" he replied, setting the briefcases and his keys on the entry table. "I've got it under control. You—" He wrapped Lithuania in a loose hug, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead (and almost effectively ignoring how feverish he felt). "Focus on taking care of yourself, too. Gerai?"

Lithuania nodded, managing a small smile. "Okay."

"Awesome." He released him and directed him to the bedroom and adjoining bathroom. "I'll catch you in a about twenty minutes."

For the next several minutes, the apartment was relatively quiet, save for America shuffling around the kitchen, and the distant sound of Lithuania settling in for the afternoon. As promised, about twenty minutes later, America let himself into the bedroom, tray in hand. "Y'awake?" he asked softly.

"Mmhmm," Lithuania confirmed, emerging from the bathroom in a pair of the other Nation's sweats and a T-shirt.

"Cool, so I have—" He waited until Lithuania was settled in bed and covered with the blankets before going on. "Chicken noodle soup, Sprite, a cup of tea 'cos I know you're into that, and a shot of DayQuil."

"Sounds great," Lithuania murmured, accepting the tray and carefully balancing it on his knees. He started to pick up the spoon then paused. "I have a question."

"Go ahead," America replied, carefully climbing onto the bed next to him.

He indicated the lettering on the T-shirt he wore. "This might be the fever talking but… Why is there a hashtag for 'yay Hamlet?'"