Why Do I Suck at This Game!?
I Think You're Doing it Wrong: Kink Meme Prompt: [America] and [Romano] are doing whatever. [England] overhears and assumes sexy tiems.
Word Count: 788
“The hell do you think you’re doing!?” England heard Romano shout.
Funny, the Brit thought, that’s America’s office isn’t it?
Indeed, the American flag on the door clearly indicated that this was the office America used during their meetings. England was unaware that America even knew where South Italy was let alone who he was, but then why would his voice come from that office?
“Relax,” he heard America say, “I know what I’m doing.”
“Like hell you do! I-it’s too big!” Romano shouted like his life depended on it, “It’s never going to fit!”
“It’ll fit. Trust me, I’ve done this loads of times.”
He shouldn’t stay; he was a gentleman, and gentlemen don’t listen in on these kinds of things, yet somehow England found himself leaning towards the door instead of bolting like he should have.
Behind the door there was some panting and grunting before Romano started shrieking again.
“Stop stop!” he was clearly out of breath and sounded like he was in pain, “You can’t just force it in like that! God, you have no idea what the fuck you’re doing do you?”
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” America defended, “Just trust me on this and hold on tight, kay?”
“I’m telling you, you don’t! If you keep shoving it up in there something’s going to break!”
“I’m sure it can take it,” he insisted. Romano groaned.
Really, England hoped he taught America better than that. Not that they ah, discussed such things when he was a colony…actually, he’s pretty sure France was the one who taught him about sex, now that he thought about it. Clearly the frog missed a few steps.
“I’m telling you, it can’t! And I think I would know!”
“Romano, just because you’re Italian doesn’t mean you know everything there is to know about this,” America stated in that I-Know-Everything-And-You-Don’t-So-Nyeh tone that England knew all too well. His pity went out to the small Italian.
“Actually,” Romano’s breath sounded like it was coming in gasps at this point, “it does. Change of plans, America,” suddenly there was a loud crash followed by the sound of several chairs and/or tables being overturned in some sort of scuffle, “I’m on top.”
England should leave. He told himself as much and everything. But there was something about imaging cowardly, profane Romano topping brash, young, obnoxious America into submission that forced him to lean even closer to the door.
“W-wait! Wait!” America shouted, panicking now, “this is not what we agreed on!”
“Too bad. Trust me, it’ll be better for both of us this way,” and England could hear the leer on his face, “You had your chance, and you fucked it up. Just hold on tight and let me show you how it’s done… ”
What followed was a series of gasps and moans and curses in both English and Italian. In all honestly, before this England never would have even assumed America and Romano would be…compatible together, but after this…
A shout of “R-Romano!” rang out from behind the door, followed shortly by the clear sound of an American collapsing on the ground.
“So?” he heard Romano say smugly, “How’s that?”
“A-awesome!” America panted, “Really, I never knew you had it in you.”
“Of course I did,” England heard him scoff, upset that the American had doubted his prowess, “What else would you expect?”
As he heard the two nations getting up, England finally was able to pull himself away from the door and sprint down the hallway before he was found out. Besides, he had a new, pressing matter to take care of.
“It’s really awesome!” America continued as he stared up at the ceiling, “And you’re right, it does truly light up the room!”
“I know,” Romano still had that smug grin on his face as he followed the other’s gaze towards the new Italian lighting fixture he’d just installed in the office, “Don’t ever doubt me again. Why did you think I could support your massive weight anyway?”
“I’m not fat,” the blonde muttered as he scratched the back of his head, “And I didn’t want you to electrocute yourself. There’re a lot of wires up there.”
Romano blushed and looked away, “S-stupid, I was fine…until you just collapsed on me at the end.”
The younger nation just laughed at him, “You kept squirming around up there and kicked me in the ribs. Anyway,” he quickly got on all fours and stared at him, not unlike an eager puppy, “now that you’re done being my interior decorator, we can have sex now?”
The Italian rolled his eyes, but there was still a pleased smirk on his face, “Fine,” swiftly, he tackled the American to the ground, “but I’m topping.”
Word Count: 788
“The hell do you think you’re doing!?” England heard Romano shout.
Funny, the Brit thought, that’s America’s office isn’t it?
Indeed, the American flag on the door clearly indicated that this was the office America used during their meetings. England was unaware that America even knew where South Italy was let alone who he was, but then why would his voice come from that office?
“Relax,” he heard America say, “I know what I’m doing.”
“Like hell you do! I-it’s too big!” Romano shouted like his life depended on it, “It’s never going to fit!”
“It’ll fit. Trust me, I’ve done this loads of times.”
He shouldn’t stay; he was a gentleman, and gentlemen don’t listen in on these kinds of things, yet somehow England found himself leaning towards the door instead of bolting like he should have.
Behind the door there was some panting and grunting before Romano started shrieking again.
“Stop stop!” he was clearly out of breath and sounded like he was in pain, “You can’t just force it in like that! God, you have no idea what the fuck you’re doing do you?”
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” America defended, “Just trust me on this and hold on tight, kay?”
“I’m telling you, you don’t! If you keep shoving it up in there something’s going to break!”
“I’m sure it can take it,” he insisted. Romano groaned.
Really, England hoped he taught America better than that. Not that they ah, discussed such things when he was a colony…actually, he’s pretty sure France was the one who taught him about sex, now that he thought about it. Clearly the frog missed a few steps.
“I’m telling you, it can’t! And I think I would know!”
“Romano, just because you’re Italian doesn’t mean you know everything there is to know about this,” America stated in that I-Know-Everything-And-You-Don’t-So-Nyeh tone that England knew all too well. His pity went out to the small Italian.
“Actually,” Romano’s breath sounded like it was coming in gasps at this point, “it does. Change of plans, America,” suddenly there was a loud crash followed by the sound of several chairs and/or tables being overturned in some sort of scuffle, “I’m on top.”
England should leave. He told himself as much and everything. But there was something about imaging cowardly, profane Romano topping brash, young, obnoxious America into submission that forced him to lean even closer to the door.
“W-wait! Wait!” America shouted, panicking now, “this is not what we agreed on!”
“Too bad. Trust me, it’ll be better for both of us this way,” and England could hear the leer on his face, “You had your chance, and you fucked it up. Just hold on tight and let me show you how it’s done… ”
What followed was a series of gasps and moans and curses in both English and Italian. In all honestly, before this England never would have even assumed America and Romano would be…compatible together, but after this…
A shout of “R-Romano!” rang out from behind the door, followed shortly by the clear sound of an American collapsing on the ground.
“So?” he heard Romano say smugly, “How’s that?”
“A-awesome!” America panted, “Really, I never knew you had it in you.”
“Of course I did,” England heard him scoff, upset that the American had doubted his prowess, “What else would you expect?”
As he heard the two nations getting up, England finally was able to pull himself away from the door and sprint down the hallway before he was found out. Besides, he had a new, pressing matter to take care of.
“It’s really awesome!” America continued as he stared up at the ceiling, “And you’re right, it does truly light up the room!”
“I know,” Romano still had that smug grin on his face as he followed the other’s gaze towards the new Italian lighting fixture he’d just installed in the office, “Don’t ever doubt me again. Why did you think I could support your massive weight anyway?”
“I’m not fat,” the blonde muttered as he scratched the back of his head, “And I didn’t want you to electrocute yourself. There’re a lot of wires up there.”
Romano blushed and looked away, “S-stupid, I was fine…until you just collapsed on me at the end.”
The younger nation just laughed at him, “You kept squirming around up there and kicked me in the ribs. Anyway,” he quickly got on all fours and stared at him, not unlike an eager puppy, “now that you’re done being my interior decorator, we can have sex now?”
The Italian rolled his eyes, but there was still a pleased smirk on his face, “Fine,” swiftly, he tackled the American to the ground, “but I’m topping.”