literature

Where Everybody Knows Your Name [France and US]

Deviation Actions

Hairbun503's avatar
By
Hairbun503
Published:
877 Views

Literature Text

France & America : Where Everybody Knows Your Name [Bromance]! 
Yes, you read right. Bromance. No yaoi here, rabid fangirls. This is simply two guy friends, although you might pick up some FrUs if you squint...a lot...
By the way, this could be considered Cheers/Hetalia Cross-over, but nobody probably has any clue what Cheers is so...yeah...This *probably* is going to be a two-shot, or it will end here. Not sure, just had to get this idea out of my head, so I could sleep peacefully tonight. 

Enjoy!  

~Sometimes You Wanna Go, Where Everybody Knows Your Name~ 

America sighed, dragging a hand down his face. This meeting was dragging on forever. Really, was it ever going to end?! 

"Well...As usual, we got nothing done. But, this meeting is over. See you all next year," Germany breathed out, his blue eyes clenched shut and his fists tightly gripping the table, in an attempt to keep the last remnant of his sanity, and his temper, in check. America nearly leapt to his feet, prepared to get back to his house, change into some casual clothing, and head off to this old bar on the side of town. 

He shuffled slowly toward the door, moving with the herd of tired, bored, disgruntled, infuriated, and just plain oblivious nations, all quite ready to go home, or to their hotel rooms for the night. As he slid through the door, he saw France outside the window, pacing back and forth nervously. Normally, he never paid much attention to the French nation, save for when he and Caterpillar-brows were at each other's throats in the meeting room. But, he looked truly anxious right now. His pacing was fast, and each of his turns were jerky and stiff, his handsome features, usually graced with a charming smile, were now sagging, and seeded with depression and stress, his blonde brows furrowed, and his pearly white teeth gnawing on his lower lip harshly. 

America couldn't just leave him like that. 

With a heavy sigh, and a slight groan, the personification of the United States made his way outside, hoping to find the source of the Frenchman's worries. 

When he got outside, France smiled, but wearily, obviously tired. America gave him an even look. 

"Drop the bullshit, I saw you pacing out here. What's eating you?" he questioned, jamming his hands into his pockets. 

France let out a half-laugh, half-sigh, the sound tinged with bitterness and anxiety. "Ah, it is nothing," he muttered, waving his hand dismissively. While France could be a sly liar when he wanted, his shaking hands gave him away. 

"Right. Again, bullshit, France," America deadpanned, his eyes half lidded. He wasn't going to go through this. Then, he got an idea. A small smile worked it's way onto his face. 

"Hey, France, I'm heading to an old bar tonight, wanna join me?" he suggested, shrugging. 

France thought for a moment, before chuckling and shaking his head. "Fine, fine."

America grinned. "Great I'll pick - " 

"On one condition," he cut in, holding up a finger to silence the young nation. 

"Sure, what is it?" he inquired casually, figuring he could handle almost any condition that France threw at him. 

"We don't go as nations," he said evenly, startling America greatly. That was an...odd request. But, even still, he smiled and nodded. 

"Alright, I'll pick you up at around...." he looked down at his watch. "Seven. Wear something ratty. I know, it sounds stupid, but trust me, nobody will give a damn, where we're going." 

With that, the blonde turned on his heel, heading off down the street, just as the thunder rumbled above their heads.

~And They're Always Glad You Came~ 

The rain was coming down in cats, dogs and livestock. That is to say, it was pouring. It had been predicted, of course, and most people were advised to stay in their homes, due to flood advisory's. But, Alfred really needed to get the hell out of his house, to that one place...the one place where he wasn't "America" anymore. He was Alfred, and he was just a normal guy, with a stressful job, and a lot of crazy relationship issues. At least, to everyone at Cheers, he was. 

With another heavy sigh, he threw on his old brown jacket, the coarse fabric rough, and very different from the worn leather bomber jacket he always wore. Glancing at himself in the mirror, he nodded. A plain white dress shirt, khaki slacks, and a pair of worn out old boots. Compared to the things he usually wore, this was as toned down as he got....Well, if we don't count the casual wear, when he's out in the streets, trying to just have fun, and get acquainted with his citizens. 

Putting on an old, tan fedora, he walked out of his house, getting into his car as fast as he could, and then driving to the hotel France was staying at. When he pulled up to the hotel, he saw France standing outside, standing under the arch of the door, if only to keep himself from getting soaked. America smiled, just barely, and walked up to him, tapping the Frenchman on the shoulder, causing him to flinch. 

"Ah, sorry. I was...off in space." He chuckled, shaking his head. 

"Ready?" America questioned, arching a golden eyebrow. 

France nodded, putting on a black hat, similar to the one America wore, but not quite the same. They both nodded at each other, before climbing into the car. 

~You Wanna Be Where You Can See, Our Troubles Are All The Same~

Walking down the cement stairs, Alfred took his hat off, shaking some of the water from his hair. Francis was attempting to wring his hair out. Finally, Alfred opened the door. Just as they stepped in, the bartender, a taller man with short brown hair, and a hint of a smile, turned toward them and smiled. 

"Hey, Alfred. The usual?" he asked, already grabbing something from under the bar. 

"Yes. Thanks, Sam. Oh, by the way, I brought a friend from work. Sam, this is Francis," he introduced, taking off his coat and hanging it up on the rack. Francis nodded to Sam, and smiled wearily. Then, he took his coat off as well, and the duo made their way to the bar, plopping down on the stools with soft sighs. 

Sam set the bottle of beer on the wooden table, then turned to Francis. "And what can I get you?" 

"Wine," he said simply, not letting his finicky taste for fine wine get in the way of his need for alcohol at that moment. Sam chuckled, grabbing a glass and then a bottle from under the bar. 

"Rough day at work?" he questioned, taking the cork out, and then pouring a glass of the deep red liquid. 

Alfred nodded. "Yeah. Arthur was a pain in the ass, Ludwig was uptight and screamed most of the time, and then Eliza and Gilbert got into another fight." 

Sam chuckled, shaking his head and passing the glass to the slightly shocked Frenchman. He was curious on how much Alfred said about them to this man. But, once he took the first sip of wine, most of his thoughts just cleared out, and he only focused on the conversation before him. 

"Can those two go for a day without fighting?" he asked. 

Just as Alfred was about to answer, a man on the other side of the bar called out, "Hey, Sammy, can I get another beer over here?" 

Sam looked over, raising an eyebrow. "Do you have the money to pay for that beer, Norm?" 

Norm smiled. "Of course I do! I got a job today - " a groan from Sam, the man sitting next to him, and a red-headed waitress standing off to the side. "Hey, don't be like that," he said defensively. Then, he just sighed and said, "Just give me my beer..." 

Sam chuckled. "Coming right up, Norm." And he went back to doing his job. 

Alfred sighed, taking another sip of his beer. "So, what was eatin' you earlier, Francis?" he asked, his clear blue eyes lazily wandering from the wooden counter top to his companion, who was clawing absentmindedly at the bottom of his wine glass with his fingernail. 

"Ah, it is nothing," he said, waving a hand dismissively. 

Alfred gave him a blank look. "Bullshit. Everyone else may think I'm slow, and that I don't pay much attention to anything, but they're sorely mistaken. I can tell when someone's lying to me." Al gave a weak, bitter chuckle. "And you've never been a great liar, Francis." 

Francis stared at him for a long moment, caught a little off guard by the young man's words. Then, he chuckled sourly and shook his head. Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed a package of cigarettes. "Would you like one?" he asked, turning to Alfred. 

Al snorted, shaking his head. "After seeing what those things did to a...close friend* of mine, I'll have to turn that down," he replied, taking a halfhearted sip of his beer. 

Francis nodded in understanding, and opened the package, grabbing one of the white tubes from the paper carton, as well as taking a pack of matches from the counter of the bar and striking one. Once the cigarette was lit, Francis let out a content sigh, his nail finally pausing in it's scratching on the glass. 

"You wanted to know why I was upset earlier?" he asked, his azure eyes darting over to Alfred. "Today was the day that Joan died, and I was stuck in that damn meeting all day. Normally, I would go to the monument in Rouen, but it is a seven hour flight, at least. So, I am spending the day of her death, sitting in an old, dingy bar." 

Alfred winced. "Yeah...I get what you're saying." 

Francis's head snapped over, his eyes narrowing. "What do you mean you 'get what I'm saying'? Have you ever been forced to sit through the agony of a meeting, on the day someone you loved with all of your heart, but couldn't have forever, died?"

Alfred turned his head, giving Francis a dead look. "Amelia Earhart, July 2nd, 1937. The day she went missing." 

Francis looked as if he'd been slapped in the face. He'd completely forgotten. The day that Amelia went missing, Alfred suddenly dropped off the face of the planet. After the nations spent days worrying about him, they went to his apartment, and found him analyzing map after map, trying to find out where she could have crashed. It took three years, and the help of all the nations, but they finally got him to let go. It had been the first human that Alfred had fallen in love with that he'd actually pursued a relationship with. Despite every warning, by every nation he knew, Alfred was still enough of a fool to begin dating her...and he still obsesses over her disappearance. 

"Oh...I completely forgot..." Francis muttered, feeling very much like an asshole in that moment. 

Al shook his head, taking another long swig of the ale in his hand. "It's okay. You needed to vent." With a light shrug, a calm silence fell between the two, who periodically sipped at their alcohol, or stared at the T.V, broadcasting some local news station, in the corner. 

But, this silence didn't last for long. Behind them, the door opened and two people stepped in. They both appeared to be middle aged, one being a man with neatly combed hair, and a woman, with slick black hair, also combed back, and a stern, neutral stare on her face. 

"Oh look, the therapists are here..." Alfred muttered, taking a long, full swig of his beer, finally finishing it. "Another, please," he requested, setting the tinted glass bottle onto the wooden counter with a clink. Just as Sam set another bottle in front of him, the duo took their seats near Francis and Alfred. 

The female eyed Francis blankly, not even bothering to cover it up, or hide it in any way. 

Francis raised an eyebrow at her. "Can I help you?" he asked, his French accent thick in his voice. Whether this was due to his current mental state, or the alcohol, he couldn't be quite sure. 

"I'm Lilith. Lilith Crane," she said dryly, her voice as emotionless and blank. She extended a hand, which Francis took, turning it over to plant a kiss to the top, receiving a scathing look from the man seated next to her. 

"Francis Bonnefoy. Pleasure to meet you," he said, smiling charmingly at her. She only nodded, taking her hand back the moment it was released. 

"French, I presume, going by your accent and surname?" 

Francis was taken a little aback by her cold manner but nodded anyway, taking the final sip of his wine. She raised an eyebrow, watching the way he held the glass, and how he swirled the wine before he drank. 

"Appreciation for fine wine, judging by the manner you drink," she droned on dully. 

Francis raised an eyebrow again, his crystal clear blue eyes slowly become fogged by a "what the fuck" look of epic proportions. 

"Charming as ever, Lilith," Alfred chimed from next to Francis, realizing that the poor Frenchman was probably trying to understand Lilith, and failing quite miserably. 

Lilith gave him the same, indifferent look, although a flash of annoyance did spark behind her eyes. "Hello, Alfred." 

The man, deciding to defuse the situation, had Lilith move over one bar stool, and he took her place, sitting next to Francis. "Frasier Crane, pleasure to meet you." 

Francis shook the man's hand, nodding. 

"I see you are a friend of Alfred," he noted, glancing over at the American, who was calmly sipping his beer and pretending that the conversation next to him wasn't happening. 

"Who don't you know at this bar, Alfred?" Francis asked, looking over at his companion. Al set the beer down, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Everybody knows everybody here, Francis." 

Francis sighed, nodding. "Okay, then..." he mumbled. 

And, he began to try and drown his sorrows in the wine. 
Yeah, I'll probably end up revisiting this Crossover many times...MANY TIMES...with multiple nations.

Anyway, if you don't know what Cheers is *throws the link to the place to watch Cheers online at you*...*Pleakly Voice* HERE, Educate yourself! [link] ENJOY~!

But, in all honestly, I really wonder if there's been anymore crossovers with this...I'll have to check. Anyway, it will, more than likely, be continued, since I haven't brought in Diane, Carla, or Woody yet. ((yes, Diane. I cannot STAND Rebecca. AT ALL.))

By the way the * after Al said "A close friend of mine" refers to my personal headcannon that Alfred was really close friends with Walt Disney, and he quit smoking a month after Walt Disney died of lung cancer.

Anyway, just want you to know, I'm not dead! :D

Cheers (c) Whoever owns Cheers
Hetalia (c) Hidekaz Himaruya
Story (c) ME
© 2013 - 2024 Hairbun503
Comments16
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
blackdreamer17's avatar
blackdreamer17
love the show and the plot its funny