madra_liath: (Catdog)
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Summary: Sequel to "Chucking Out Time". England comes home from a long day to find no tea on the table and Wales using up all the hot water. More old-married bickering ensues. Written for the Axis Powers Hetalia Kink Meme.

***

England pushed open the front door with a sigh, dumping his briefcase in the hall.

“I’m home!”

He shut the door behind him and tossed his keys on the hall table, then shrugged off his coat. “You got the tea on yet?” He moved through the house, peering into the living room and the kitchen. “Hello?” Finding no sign of his boyfriend – and more annoyingly, no sign of his tea – he raised his voice. “Hellooo? Am I talking to myself?

“There’s no need to shout,” Wales’s voice floated down from upstairs. England started up the staircase. “I’m running a bath.”

“Well at least that’s something,” England grumbled. He trudged into the bathroom. “Where’s me bloody tea, you lazy git?”

“Wherever you left it, I expect,” Wales replied. He was kneeling next to the tub, clad in a red dressing gown that was a little too small for him, testing the temperature of the water. “I have been working all day too you know. Just because I don’t go gallivanting halfway across the world like you…”

England moved further into the bathroom, only to grimace as a pungent smell hit him.

“Oh, Christ.” England pressed his nose against his sleeve and gestured at the tub. “Bath’s for you, isn’t it?”

Wales nodded, slipping out of his robe. “I’m afraid so.”

“Jesus.” England turned away and put the toilet seat up. “You fucking ming.” He let out a sigh of relief as he pissed loudly into the bowl. “What’d you do, roll in a barbecued sheep?”

You try feeding a dragon without ending up stinking like a burning abattoir.” Wales wet a washcloth and started to scrub at his arms. “If you’re hungry, you’ll have to make your tea yourself.” He moved onto his pudgy chest and belly. “And if you want a bath you’ll have to share. There’s no more hot water.”

England huffed out a sigh and took a moment to consider. “If I can fit.”

Wales flicked a fluffy cloud of suds at him.

“Well go and make the bloody tea, then!” he groused. “Be nice to come downstairs and have my tea on the table for once.”

“Oh, moan, moan, moan,” England grumbled, unbuttoning his shirt. “You know, just cos you’ve got tits doesn’t mean you have to act like my wife.

Wales snorted. “Wife? All the work I do round here, I might as well be your mother.”

England pulled off his shoes and socks. “Yeah, but I don’t shag my mother, do I?” He stepped out of his trousers. Wales ducked his head under the water and resurfaced, slopping soapy water onto the bathroom floor. England scowled and mopped it up.

“Oi, Moby Dick, watch what you’re doing,” he growled.

Wales swept his wet dark hair back from his face and cast an eye over England’s naked body. “Look, are you getting in here or are you going to stand there making fat jokes all evening?” He slid lower in the bath. “Because if it’s the latter, I’d rather you left, thank you very much.”

England sighed. “All right, I’m getting in.” Wales scooted back to make room and England clambered in. “Trust you to leave me the tap end.” He picked up the loofah. “Come on, turn around.”

Wales did as he was told. He hissed as England began to wash his back.

“Easy, you’re not scrubbing the kitchen floor!” England eased off a bit and Wales relaxed slightly. “Not that you’d know anything about that.”

“Well that’s my point, isn’t it?” England exclaimed. “You’re just better at that stuff than me, it makes sense for you to do it. Remember what happened last time I made the tea? We had to call the coastguard.”

“Yes, I was impressed by how thoroughly you managed to cock that up,” Wales answered dryly. He took the loofah from England and gestured for him to turn around. England sighed as Wales began to scrub away the day’s worries with strong, gentle strokes. “If you put half the effort into doing housework that you do into avoiding it, it’d be done in no time.”

“Well that’d be no fun,” England replied. Wales reached past him for the showerhead and England braced himself for the shock of cold water running over his scalp. He was surprised to feel pleasantly warm water instead.

“Here.” He pushed Wales’ hand away and twisted around to look at him. “I thought you said there was no more hot water?”

Wales shrugged. “I must’ve been mistaken.”

England gazed at him for a few seconds, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, then turned back around to let Wales finish wetting his hair. He closed his eyes and sighed as Wales began to work shampoo into his hair, gently massaging his scalp as he did so.

“Tell you what,” England murmured, “let’s go out, eh? My treat. We could try that new little Italian place on the corner.”

“That’d be lovely,” Wales agreed. He began to rinse the shampoo out of England’s hair.

“Assuming we can scrub out all the burnt wool stink,” England added. The last of the shampoo lather slid over his face and he opened his eyes. “Come on, your turn.”

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September 2015

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