Seme!Male!Reader! x Hetalia - Don Juan Triumphant

America Route Part 2: A Definite Answer

"On Monday I'll be leaving, and I don't know if or when I'll be back."

Those words cut America deeper than anything he could remember in even fairly distant history. The house was exceptionally quiet, aside from the just-audible bubbling coming from the kitchen.

America looked back down at the floor, the tears continuing to stream down his face. He still wanted to know one definite answer in this moment:

"Are... are you absolutely sure about this, ______?"

You couldn't bring yourself to even formulate a more complex sentence than "Yes." America's hands tightened even further on his apron, letting you know that your answer had been received and fully understood.

"If that's really what you want, I can't stop you...

You've always known what you want, and now is no different. However I need to know one thing; what's his name?"

Your breath hitched in your chest at the question from your now almost miniature-looking boyfriend; he had curled so much into himself that his size seemed to have been reduced to almost non-existence.

"His name...? There isn't anyone else. I'd think you'd know that by now."

He let out a sigh of relief that at least he hadn't been replaced by anyone else. Yet the emptiness and fear he was feeling in the moment didn't grant him any lasting reprieve from his inner turmoil. With one seemingly exhaustive heave, America stood up and walked out of the front room then into the kitchen, after which point you heard the stove dials clicking into the off position, and the slight ruffle of fabric as he undid the apron's tie around his waist. He hung it up on its hook, and walked defeated out of the kitchen, slowly and sullenly upstairs to the bedroom; after which the latch softly clicked letting you know the door was closed though unlocked. You sat for a few moments in the now completely silent house, hoping that while you were unwavering in your answer, that you didn't come down hard on Al, as you loved him no matter what else.

After a short deliberation, you went upstairs to check on your American boyfriend, hoping to comfort him; at least as much as possible in the moment. Stopping at the bedroom door, you were about to knock before hearing his slow, almost melodic breathing, letting you know that he was fast asleep. Opening the door, you could see him still wearing his uniform. He fell asleep so quickly that he didn't change into his pajamas, or even get under the covers.

As you walked over to give him a kiss on the cheek, which you did, you felt that the pillow was wet with his tears; his heart was broken, and to such an extent that he continued to cry in his sleep. However you couldn't help but feel extra shame when this kiss didn't get any reaction as they had in the past. Your sense of defeat was also becoming palpable in the moment. You removed your suit, setting its constituent pieces on the leather chair, thereafter climbing into bed pulling the covers over yourself, and quickly joining Alfred in the land of sleep.

-SATURDAY MORNING-

You awoke to find the other half of the bed empty, light streaming in through the window letting you see it was vacant. Your heartbeat quickened to an almost panicked state in the moment until you saw the bathroom door closed, and heard the shower running letting you know Alfred was still there. Looking over to the chair where you had left your suit on it the night before, you saw that it had been removed and was now hanging in the closet next to Al's school uniform.Collecting your thoughts, you sat up in bed your back resting against the headboard, the covers barely covering your boxer-wearing lower half. As Al continued to shower, you started to examine yourself: looking at your own toned physique, moving to your empty hands, before setting them by your sides.

These few moments were full of self introspection:

"Why did he fall in love with me? Was it solely out of physical attraction?"

These and other thoughts continued to fill your head, though you didn't have much time to ponder on them for the water soon stopped running, and you were greeted with the sight of your boyfriend exiting the bathroom with a towel around his waist.

"Uh... Good morning," you squeaked out.

You were nervous. Why were you nervous? You hadn't been at this level of it since your first date. It was likely at your own trepidation of what was going to happen next. Did America hate you now? Was he going to berate you, as out of the normal as that would be? Then again this entire situation was unprecedented for the two of you as neither of you had been in a romantic relationship before.

"Morning," he responded back plainly.

None of the preceding misgivings had come to pass. That provided you a bit of relief, however the tension was still palpable. America walked over to the closet and once again retrieved his school uniform, walking to the dresser for a clean pair of boxers; thereafter walking into the bathroom to get dressed, closing the door behind him. He walked back out a couple minutes later, sitting on the edge of the bed, then donned his socks and sneakers.

"Where you going, Al?," you asked as he walked from the bedroom.

"Well, we didn't get to have dinner last night, so I'm going to heat it up for us."

"Wouldn't it be bad by now?"

"After one night, and considering I put it in the fridge a couple hours after I originally fell asleep? Not a chance. The Hero has it covered! And you need to get dressed, lover."

All things considered, he seemed in a pretty good mood today; indeed a very good mood. A few minutes later, you came downstairs, wearing your favorite Metallica t-shirt, and a pair of black basketball shorts. You sat at the table, waiting for Al to finish working his magic in the kitchen. After about ten minutes, a spread of incredible proportions was set on the already-set table.

"You made all of this yesterday?"

You were astounded at the sheer amount of work that he had put into it; even for big celebrations, it rarely got to this level.

"Of course I did! You didn't think your uke didn't have it in him, did you? ... Even though you're usually what's in me."

You blushed to your ears at his innuendo. Perhaps he was trying to rekindle the romance between you two. Even though you remained red-faced for a minute or two, you quickly came back to your senses as you remembered the news you had delivered to him yesterday.

"Al, are you sure that you're okay with this?"

"While it's not the easiest pill to swallow, I have to be okay; it would be unbecoming of me as not only the Hero, however as your Hero if I weren't!"

You could tell that he was going on his usual routine of trying to use bravado to trudge through a difficult situation; understanding full-well that he was truly hurting inside. You decided to humor him and continue through breakfast as though nothing was out of the ordinary; the usual jokes and ribald humor being present as always, even knowing that come Monday nothing would ever be the same.

-2 PM-

A knock on the door surprised Al, making him slightly jump in his spot on the couch as he watched Sailor Moon. Pressing pause on the remote, he walked to the front door where an older, well-dressed man with slicked-back hair, and a briefcase in his left hand, stood.

"Uh, can I help you, dude?"

"Yes, this is the residence of ________ _______, correct?"

"It sure is! Yo, ________! There's someone here for you!"

-End of part 2-