Chapter Text
Japan loved his boyfriend. He really did. America is amazing in a lot of ways. He’s knowledgeable in many fields. His impenetrable confidence is admirable, and was something Japan wished he could replicate. However, sometimes, America is fucking insufferable.
The main cause for Japan’s irritation was when America and him discussed cars. Or more specifically discussing cars at car shows, such as the one they were currently attending, along with a bunch of other car obsessed nations. Both America and Japan loved cars. They loved to tinker with them and they took great pride in their work. One could even say that perhaps they took a bit too much pride in their work, in some cases.
It started with a few jabs here and there. America making off hand remarks about how tiny his cars are and how they weren’t as powerful. That they weren’t useful for hauling or going off road. Stuff that Japan really should be used to hearing and shouldn’t be mad about anymore. But god damn, whenever this conversation topic came up, he wanted to strangle him.
“So if we were going to rank the cars we brought in regards to who can pull a giant Egyptian marble obelisk, mine would obviously be the best. Then Germany’s car would win. And then Prussia’s”
“Hey, Why is mine third! Mine can totally haul more than yours.” Prussia shouted.
“Shut Up” America rattled on. “Then Italy's car, and then Japan’s car. And then France’s car. And then Romano’s car.”
“Why am I at the bottom, is this because you think the wheels are going to fall off the car if I make it on my own?” Romano sneered
“Mon cher, when do your cars not fall apart?”
“My last car didn’t fall apart-”
“Italy helped you with that one.” France said smugly.
“You interrupted me!” America interjected. “The one who is actually at the bottom is England.”
“Oh Bugger off, You all just don’t understand the beauty of the Reliant Robin.” England scowled.
“Frankly, England, most of us don’t understand the appeal of a 3 wheeled car.” France teased.
“Yeah, that thing falls over every time you turn a curve.” America laughed.
“You all are too obsessed with being flashy. No humility.” England retorted.
“Being flashy isn’t a bad thing.” France wrapped his arm around England's shoulder, which England quickly shoved away. “Still, America, my car was placed way too low. I think it should be higher.”
Japan rolled his eyes at the conversation and started tuning it out. Yes, England’s car was stupid and objectively inferior to all of the other cars the other countries brought. But it was unique and had a ton of character. No one else would dare bring something so hideous. Except maybe America, however Japan knew America didn’t possess that level of self awareness. He would for sure bring one of those stupid family trucks and expect everyone to be impressed by it.
In order to not fall asleep, Japan texted Indonesia about the latest Yamaha motorcycle designs that the two of them had collaborated on and brought to this show. He wished he could geek out with him about their innovations rather than attend this massive dick measuring contest.
“Why are we even arguing about this?” Germany interrupted the arguing nations. Japan could tell Germany was about to explode soon, and Japan was in half a mind to do the same.“We are arguing about the horsepower of our cars under the presumption that this is the only thing that matters in good car design. There’s more to a car than that.”
“Yes, like speed!” Italy shouted.
“No. not like speed.” Germany grumbled while he rubbed his temples.
“Isn’t the power of the engine the most important part of a car?” America asked.
“Not if your car isn’t oversized.” Japan said with a hint of snideness. If he knew what was good for him he would have stayed quiet. But tonight he had forgotten his decorum somewhere over the pacific ocean. England snorted behind him.
“Size is important, it makes the car look cooler!” America insisted.
“That is a matter of opinion. I think the sleeker, smaller model is better.” Japan said dismissively.
“But you can’t fit anything in it.” America complained.
“No one can fit anything in your cars.” Japan quipped. Years of frustration were coming to a head. “Your car is just styled to look bigger than it actually is.”
“That can’t be right…” America replied.
“How about we change the subject.” Germany interjected. “Let’s talk about safety instead-”
“No, don't get them started on that.” England sighed.
“I’m going to get snacks for everyone!” Italy shouted.
“Mine’s obviously the safest, it's a tank.” America replied. Resulting in eye rolls from everyone else that America casually missed.
“That’s literally not true. And cars aren’t supposed to be tanks!” Japan hissed.
“If a tree falls on my car it is not going to break it like it would yours!”
“...Is that verifiable?”
“Yeah totally!” America replied.
Japan doubted that highly. “Doesn’t matter though, in every other scenario your cars aren’t safe. You can’t see children and small animals passing in front of you. They crush other cars and kill the people in them in accidents. They kill civilians and bikers-”
“You don’t need to cite every rule in the book that I have allegedly broken.”
“Maybe a different test would be better.” France said weakly, desperately trying to salvage the conversation before it devolved further.
“Yeah, I would like a different test.” America said tensely. “Like one of endurance, like the fact your cars would never survive rough terrain like mine.”
“I live in the mountains. I think my cars can handle whatever you throw at them.” The sarcasm rolled off of Japan’s tongue like lava.
America’s tone matched Japan’s in iciness. “Ah yes your densely populated country where you are never far from the city.”
“Implying I don’t know what a country road looks like.”
“Your cars would never make it up my mountains.”
“Yes they would. I know they would, because they have done it. Because my cars are actually popular in your market. Unlike yours in mine.”
“That is only because of your protectionist policies.”
“If that were true, everyone else here wouldn’t pretend to like your designs.”
Japan must have struck a nerve, for the hurt on America's face was gut wrenching and it was only made worse by how America didn’t force it away. An awkward air filled the room, none of the nation’s wanted to look them in the eye, for fear of making the argument worse. Japan instantly regretted his words.
“America I-”
“Don’t bother. You’ve said what you wanted to say. I’m clearly not wanted.” America said flatly before making his exit. Japan barely registered it when America bumped into his shoulder.
“Look what I found guys! Cheesecake!” Italy returned cheerily, completely oblivious to the heavy atmosphere around him. “ Japan you’ve gotta try this chocolate one!”
“No thanks, Not hungry.” Japan replied before storming off to the bar. He wanted to apologize and make this all go away. But he also didn’t. He hated how sensitive America was. He hated how sensitive he himself was. He didn’t want America to go, but he also didn’t know how he could talk to him right now. He was far too incensed to think properly.
Japan sweared colorfully as he knocked his leg against a bar stool. His anger making him lose his sense of his surroundings.
“If you keep talking like that I’ll have to kick you out.” Netherlands said. Japan’s face blushed hot in embarrassment.
“What drink do you want?” Netherlands replied coolly.
Japan sighed in relief that Netherlands was wholly disinterested in asking why he was in such a foul mood. Netherlands was far more concerned with making his car themed cocktails and getting as many tips as he could. True friends don’t pry into other people’s business! Another thing that his obnoxious boyfriend ought to understand! Ok, maybe that’s going a bit too far. Japan really didn’t want to talk about it.
“Le mans. Make it five of them.”
Japan gulped down his fifteenth drink that evening. He hadn’t seen America in hours nor had he received any messages from him. This fact incited a mixed feeling from him. On one hand Japan was still annoyed with America. On the other, he wasn’t used to America going silent on him and that made his stomach turn. The other countries had kept to themselves, avoiding Japan and his bad energy. No doubt they were all gossiping about his and America’s very public fight. It was disgusting behavior. However tonight Japan welcomed it. Normally he would bottle up his emotions and pretend he was fine, but tonight the idea of that made him squeamish. The gossip was tasteless, but at least it allowed him to be alone.
“Hey.”
Japan glanced to his left at France who sat down next to him. He nodded in acknowledgement of his presence before going back to looking at his glass. Sadly fate wouldn’t let him live in peace.
“I’ll have what he is having” France said to Netherlands before turning his focus onto Japan. “So how is the drink?”
“Strong. Exactly how I like it.”
“I can see that. You know, you’re looking a little raggedy, you may need some coffee to wake yourself back up-”
“Get to the point, France. I know why you are here.” Japan interrupted. He wasn’t in the mood to entertain any of the man’s attempts at small talk.
France paused for a moment, shocked by Japan’s directness, before continuing. “Yes about your petit Amerique, You seem pretty upset by him.”
“Oh really? I didn’t notice.”
France looked a bit taken aback but kept pressing him. “What I mean is, I haven’t seen you get this mad at him in a very long time.”
“Yeah and? Are you coming to tell me I’m no longer the perfect boyfriend.” Japan scowled at France.
“I just came to ask if you wanted to talk about it. Get it off your chest” Japan stayed silent for a few moments, prompting France to continue. “ I promise that whatever you say stays between us.”
Japan gulped down the rest of his drink. He was a bit weary of discussing his private thoughts. Especially with France, the world’s biggest gossip. But damn he wanted this off his chest.
“He’s just always like this.” Japan sighed.
France perked up in interest. “Like what?”
“Just really petty. He constantly tries to insist that his designs are better than mine. He constantly nitpicks my work. Constantly haggles me about how my engines aren’t as powerful as his or that my designs aren’t as cool looking. Whatever that is supposed to mean. He insists that my cars can’t haul as much as his. Because of course they don’t, because his cars are all basically trucks while mine are actual cars. And I know why he does this. He doesn’t want to admit that my designs are better. He doesn’t want to admit that the stuff he claims are so important are superficial at best or are extremely impractical. He accuses my cars of only being popular because of protectionism, when I abandoned protectionism years ago at his insistence, and it came at a major cost to myself. And the worst part is he engages in protectionism too. He just does this because he’s too proud to admit that my cars are more popular than his. That my cars are popular due to their merit. He just can never admit when he’s not the best at something. And he especially can’t admit it when other people surpass him.”
Japan felt an odd sense of relief at his outburst. But also unease at what he had just shared. He held his breath as he waited for France to respond.
France gave him a sympathetic look. “This isn’t just about cars, is it?”
Japan stayed silent, but the look on his face only served as confirmation.
“America is like that with everyone. He hates to admit defeat. It’s best to tune him out.”
“Yeah, easy to say that when you don’t have to put up with it all of the time.”
“I drink to your ability to endure him.”
Japan gulped down the rest of his drink. To love America was to engage in masochism. Good thing Japan was indeed a masochist.
“Have you ever spoken to him about your feelings?” France asked.
“Somewhat. But not like this. What good would it do though? It wouldn’t make things better.” Japan replied in resignation.
“I disagree with that. America is stubborn, but he can be reasoned with. I have seen him listen to you when no one else can get him to listen.
“Does he though?”
“He does. I’ve seen him do it. And I know he adores you.”
Japan didn’t respond and instead opted to stare at his empty glass.
“Do you think he doesn’t listen to you?” France pried.
“No, I know he will listen.” Japan sighed. “I just question my success though.”
“Then you’d better go talk to him.” France nudged him. “The only thing worse than an America that’s loud and arrogant, is one that is upset.”
“Do I have to?” Japan groaned.
Japan. France pressed.
“Ugh.” Japan groaned, and leaned back in his seat. “I don’t even know where he is. He’s been ignoring me and I’ve been ignoring him.” A sharp pain radiated through his chest as he thought of this fact.
“I guess you’ll have to find out.” France laughed. “If I were you I’d check your pockets.”
Japan gave France a WTF expression before reaching into his suit pocket and feeling around to find what France was referring to, or lack thereof.
“That son of a-” He stopped himself mid swear before storming out of the bar, Leaving France alone.
Japan broke open the doors of the display room of the car dealership. It was supposed to be abandoned for the evening as everyone partied. But rather than be abandoned he heard the muffled sounds of heavy metal music roaring from across the room. He marched over to the source of the noise. That source being his Honda NSX. His precious baby that he just had customized. He squinted in the general direction of his car and he sighed in relief, for he could just barely make out a mop of messy blonde hair poking up from the driver’s seat.
Japan walked over to the passenger window and knocked to signify his presence. America looked at him and gestured for him to enter before going to turn his music off. Japan slid into the passenger side of his car, overall not really used to being on this side. He gave America a gentle smile, only for it not to be returned, as America kept his eyes glued in front of them.
“Nice music taste.” Japan offered up.
“Yup.” America responded flatly.
“Do you listen often?”
“Not really.”
“Do you often sneak into other people’s cars when you’re upset?”
“Ugh” America’s expressionless demeanor cracked as he grimaced. “I just wanted to get away from people.”
“Avoid me, you mean.” Japan pressed lightly.
“Not necessarily. I knew you’d find me eventually.” America replied despondently.
Japan leaned across the seat and hugged America tightly. America stiffened slightly before relaxing. “Don’t sneak off on me like this.”
America leaned his head into the crook of Japan’s shoulder and replied with a small voice. “I didn’t think you wanted me around.”
“You upset me, yes, but I still love you.”
“You do?”
“Of course.” Japan stroked America’s hair gently as silent tears began to roll down America’s face.
“I thought you were done with me.” America cried into his shoulder as his tears sped up.
“Oh America, Do you really think I’d break up with you just like that?”
America didn’t respond and only seemed to tense up.
Japan sighed and pulled America’s face up to look at him directly. “I wouldn’t. Don’t think that I would.”
America nodded wordlessly.
“That said, I’m still annoyed.” Japan pressed on.
“Yeah… I was being an ass” America cringed and leaned back into the seat.
“Yeah, you were.”
“I’m sorry about that. For putting down your work so aggressively.”
“I appreciate the apology.” Japan said with a slight smile. “But please be mindful of this in the future.”
“I’ve done it a lot, haven’t I? "America said with a resigned expression, making Japan’s heart twist slightly.
Before Japan could respond, America was already continuing. “I’m sorry, you don’t deserve that behavior from me. In truth I’m kind of jealous of how much more people like your cars than mine. And of how they are. Well. Better.”
America looked away to hide his face from Japan’s reaction. Japan gave America a bemused smile. “So you're willing to admit it?”
“Shut up…”
“No I’m not going to. I think I actually need you to repeat that last part. About how my cars are better.” Japan pressed him slightly.
“AGH” America leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms, pouting like a petulant child. “Your cars are better. Happy?”
“Extremely.” Japan laughed before kissing America on the cheek. “You should know you don’t need to put other people’s work down just to feel better about yourself.”
“I know… I just should be better than I am.” America said with frustration.
“Then you should focus your energy on that rather than being rude to people about it.” Japan scolded gently.
“People will think less of me if I’m not the best though.” America whined in turn.
“People will not think less of you for not being the best. They will think less of you if you put others down.” Japan said softly while stroking America’s hair. ”I will think less of you if you keep being baselessly rude about my cars.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how bad I was being.”
“I accept your apology.” Japan said before giving America a more serious look. "You should also learn to accept that other people are going to be better than you at some things."
America rolled his eyes at Japan. “Come on. My mantra is that I’m the number 1 at everything. Not number 1 at most things.”
“Ok first off, that is not a healthy mindset to have for yourself. No one can be the best at everything. No one should ever be the best at everything.” Japan replied pointedly, making America pout. “Secondly, if you are the best at everything. What does that leave the rest of us?”
America went silent next to him. Japan hoped he had gotten through to him, if only for his own sake, but he wasn’t sure.
“I guess that’s true. And I could possibly do it for you. I am in an absolutely amazing car right now.” America said with a wry smile.
“Now you’re just being a suck up. Flattery will get you nowhere with me.” Japan responded coolly.
“Is it really flattery if it is true?” America said before he pressed his lips against Japan’s. Japan moaned softly into the kiss welcoming the closeness
America quickly made the kiss more intimate, rubbing his hands along Japan's shirt, slipping his fingers beneath Japan's buttons every so often. Japan wasn’t remiss to America's indulgences, he knew what he was up to.
"Now you're just sucking up to me to get sex out of me."
America looked up at him with doe eyes and rubbed Japan's stomach. "Maybe? What's wrong with that?"
"It's needlessly coquettish."
America trailed kisses along Japan's neck, looping Japan's tie around his fingers. "A fancy way of calling me a slut. And to think people think you are polite."
Japan's breath hitched a bit as America began to leave a hickey on his neck. He was happy to see that America’s mood had improved, even if it was objective cringe. "It is polite. And it is true. Tell me America, I'm curious, did you lose your virginity in a car? It seems very like you."
America looked up to give Japan a pointed stare. "Oh wouldn't you like that idea, me being a stereotype and remaining pure till the invention of the automobile and then fucking in the back seat."
Japan giggled at the description before America continued. "The first time I was with a woman was in a carriage"
"That sounds like a rough ride."
"Oh it was, we felt every bump. This alternatively will be a much smoother ride." In a flash America had Japan in another kiss, making Japan's mind go to putty. America finally went below the belt and rubbed the front of Japan's pants making Japan's erection poke painfully at the front of his now too tight slacks. For his part, Japan returned the favor by reaching over and grabbing America's hard on, making him pant heavily.
Japan broke the kiss and turned away. "You're a tease. But we are not having sex in my car."
"Awww but it's new and it has the new car smell!"
"That's a perk?"
"Obviously! It gets you high!"
Japan rolled his eyes and straightened his shirt now that America had slightly lessened his grip. "That's a toxic gas sweetie. Regardless, I'm not letting you cum all over your suit and my car."
"Me? cum everywhere? More like you will. Also. "America dug into his inside pocket and pulled out 2 condoms. "They are tire themed too"
Japan snorted out a laugh, before getting serious. "Nice save, but you are going to be riding me.
Shook his head before teasing Japan further. "No way. I'm currently in a Honda, so you should spread your legs and let me in."
Japan laughed breathily. Two can play that game. "You could be riding a Honda so I would advise that you get over here and spread your legs."
"Your argument is tempting, but would still be impossible." America leaned over and kissed Japan's neck, Mischief lacing his voice. "I am too tall for that. If you wanted me to ride, we should have been in my car."
Japan kept his gaze stern. "You must really be a whore, if you design your cars to be big enough to accommodate intercourse."
In a swift movement America claimed Japan's lips in a kiss, his body awkwardly curving over the stick shift and into the passenger seat. Japan was twisted as well trying to accommodate him, the contortion was uncomfortable, but sweet kisses from his boyfriend were worth it. He tangled his hands in the golden locks, messing up America's soft hair. He could feel America's grip on his thigh as he balanced himself against him.
The sound of doors clanging interrupted their enjoyment. Japan pushed his lover away to listen. Unfortunately for the both of them, America slipped and hit the gear shift. The car lurched forward slightly making them hit their heads.
"Fuck, America, you're going to get us caught."
"I'm sorry I'm just cramped." In America's untwisting he hit the horn making them both jump.
Japan's heart sank. Great, they were going to get arrested for fornicating in his own car. How could this day get any worse.
As if the universe wanted to challenge him, he was startled by the sound of his car's engine starting.
"What are you doing?”
"Getting us out of trouble. Buckle your seatbelt."
"America, turn off my car right now or so help me god-"
Japan had no time to finish his sentence for in a split second, they were speeding across the dealership floor, with ease America avoided Italy's bright red Ferrari and the cursed Reliant Robin, that for some reason was painted with the Union Jack? England could be just as patriotic as his brothers in the weirdest of ways.
Through the maze they went as flashlights shone on them, incoherent shouting was drowned out by the squeals of the tire on the shiny black floor. Just as the overhead lights came on, America veered Japan's beautiful Honda right into the glass front doors, shattering them instantly and sending the car flying out into the parking lot. The alarms wailed and Japan was in half a mind to strangle his boyfriend right there.
"What the fuck is your problem?!"
"A lot of things."
"Have you gone mad?" Japan shrieked. "You're going to get us arrested! You caused so much property damage! You scratched my car!"
"I'll repaint your car. Don't worry sweetie." America said as if he had just scratched someone’s cheap IKEA furniture rather than an expensive sports car.
"You'd better." Japan said with a glare.
Flashlights began to flicker the parking lot, conveying that their time was up.
"OK we gotta get out of here." America shifted the car back into gear.
"Wait stop-" Japan didn't get to finish his sentence, for they were screeching out of the convention parking lot, and onto the streets of El Paso.
"AMERICA WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING! YOU ARE GOING TO KILL MY CAR DRIVING AT THIS SPEED ON STREETS LIKE THIS!"
"Oh please, I've got this entirely under control." America shouted back at him in a demeanor that seemed confident but Japan could tell was masking a bit of anxiety.
With ease America was able to dodge the various obstacles on the road, illegally passing cars resulting in a symphony of honks as they passed. Even as America sped through the red lights he managed to avoid the pedestrians. Impressive driving, truly, but that brought no ease to Japan’s mind which was in full panic mode. America couldn’t have been happier.
"Man this thing speeds up so fast! This is an absolute joy to drive!"
"TURN THIS CAR AROUND RIGHT NOW!"
America cackled maniacally. "Oh relax, live a little!’ While going 144 km down an urban street.
Japan looked behind them, police lights were beginning to tail them. Japan hit his head against the head rest.
"The three of us are going to die. And then we will go to prison thanks to you."
"The three of us." America repeated, bemused, as he roughly turned a corner.
"Yes! My baby! That you are abusing!"
Borderline insane laughter filled Japan's ears as they swerved down an alleyway, knocking over trash cans as the police chased them.
The mayhem America was causing as they made repeated sporadic turns at top speeds gradually allowed them to lose their pursuers. Thank goodness. However that didn’t prevent America from pissing off a bunch of local Texans that were minding their own business till some maniac driver in a fancy Honda sportscar came rushing down their neighborhood streets. Nor did America get rid of the Angry Japan. The real important one here. That anger gave way to a livid nausea though as they rolled down the streets, taking every turn at much higher speeds than what any sane person would do. Japan couldn’t help but worry that America had actually done this before. All Japan could do was stare at the street in front of him as he turned green.
Japan wanted to kill America. He had been in cursed car rides before, Namely that time Italy tried to take him for a joy ride in World War 2. But God fucking damn it, at least it wasn’t in his car. Japan was in half a mind to throw America on the ground and beat him up, he was so angry. However if he did that they would both be dead. Eventually the lines of houses and small businesses gave way to the vast deserts of the American southwest. The sight of cactuses and tumbleweed granted Japan some minor respite. Under normal circumstances he would have admired the beauty of the desert, but these were not normal circumstances.
“I think we lost them,” Japan mumbled groggily. “You can stop driving at 200 kilometers now.”
“Are you kidding? Your car is great!” I want to drive all the way to the Grand Canyon at this speed! America laughed.
“I will murder you.” Japan growled as he sunk further into his chair.
“Aww but it would be so much fun!”
“Kurosu…Kurosu…”
“Oh I know, What if we did some off-roading!”
“America, my car is not one of your muscle trucks, it doesn’t go off the road. Now stop the car so that I can wring your neck.’
“What are you talking about? I’ve taken your cars off-roading before. The Subaru I got was great for that. Lowkey is better than mine at off-roading.”
Japan stared at him with a mixture of hatred and shock. Did he really just say that the Subaru was better than his car at something?
“Oh! This is the perfect spot for it!” America shouted before veering the Honda off of the empty freeway and out into a desert path. Japan whipped around as America spun them in circles. The world spun as his precious Honda was forced to do figure 8s and donuts in the dirt. He was reduced to muttering swears and dark curses in Japanese as America cackled loudly. Practically reduced to a caricature of himself that you’d see in a cartoon.
As they spun, America got a terrible idea. “Hey, what if I parked behind that rock.”
“Isn’t there a cliff over there?” Japan asked, struggling as America drove a design into the dessert floor. “You’re going to drive us off a cliff.”
“No I’m not!” America scoffed as he abruptly started driving toward the rock at high speeds.
“Yes you are! This is not a video game. You are going to drive us off a cliff. And worst of all, you are going to tear up the bottom of my car with Tumbleweed!
America made a hard turn, avoiding the cliff and the rock face. The inertia of the car caused the two of them to veer to the side. Japan went green again. As the car turned away and they avoided danger Japan felt as if his stomach had kept going, tumbling down the hill to get stuck in a cactus.
Finally the car stopped, in a perfect parallel park next to the rock side, and just out of view of the road. America jumped out of the car, giddy with excitement, one that Japan would have found contagious in any other setting.
“Woohoo! Let’s do that again!’
Japan clumsily stepped out of the car. He was so nauseous though that he fell on his face. With extreme effort, he pulled himself up from the rock face.
America finally turned to look at him. “Woah, you don’t look so good, are you ok?” He held out his hand to help steady him.
THWACK
America was knocked back by a powerful punch to the face, courtesy of Japan. His glasses limply fell off his face, bent from the impact. America clutched the rock behind him. “Ok- I deserved that.”
“Yeah. You did.” Japan hissed. He glared at America as he rubbed his eye.
“Fuck… you got me good.” America hissed out. He covered his eye and leaned against a rock and grimaced in pain. “And my glasses. Did that make you feel any better?”
“Not Particularly.” Japan grumbled as he examined his car for scratches, immediately finding 3, thankfully, cosmetic ones.
“Didn’t think so.” America replied. “I’m sorry for getting us into so much trouble and driving at dangerous speeds.”
“And for being impulsive," Japan interrupted.
“That too. But! I got us away from the police! We aren’t sitting in a jail cell right now! So that's good!”
“You’re really trying to put a positive spin on us stealing my own car. How did we lose them anyway? "Japan replied, annoyance still lacing his breath.
“The police are useless, what else is new.”
“Eh, true. I would have ditched mine sooner.” The two of them went quiet, breathing in the clear night air.
Japan looked out at the desert trying to internally get a bearing of where they were. “Aren’t we close to the border? How far do we have to walk till we get to the Las Vegas version of the Great Wall of China?”
“Uuuuuuugh Don’t make me think of that.” America groaned “You’re already making my head hurt like hell.”
Japan laughed darkly. “Fuck… Am I going to get deported because of this joy ride you took me on?”
…
…
…
!!!
“No.” America replied, as if coming out of a dissociation. “Why would you think that?”
“Just asking” Japan responded, mirroring America perfectly.
For a moment they stared at the beautiful Southwestern Dessert’s night, admiring the stars that were invisible in El Paso’s city lights. America interrupted the silence. “I think we should skip town for a few days. The car convention has us antsy. How about we go to one of the national forests.”
“Is this an excuse to do more off-roading? Japan asked sarcastically.
“Actually no, I just wanted to do something nice for you after everything I did. And keep a low profile. But if you waaaant.”
“Ugh, Shut up.” Japan wrapped his hand around America’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. America’s tension went down slightly with the act. Japan quickly broke it though. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. However only on one condition. You are going to ride me. In my car.”
In the gloom Japan could just barely see America’s face curl in indignation. Japan had to hold back laughter “Don’t look at me like that. You owe me that much. You’re out here acting like a crazy teenager who just discovered speed racing. You might as well take that role.”
“Oh please I drive way better than a teenager.” America replied derisively. “Besides, what do you know about speed racing?”
“If you need to ask that, then you don’t know as much as you think.” Japan mocked him.
“Oh so you intend to school me in the art of racing?”
“Maybe.” Japan said, unable to hide the Cheshire like grin slipping up his face. “If you want, I could make it happen now.”
Even in the dark America could pick up on his meaning. “You’re a freak, you know that, right?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Alright, but you had better impress me.”