Long Nights & Hockey Games [1/2]
anonymous
August 3 2009, 19:28:42 UTC
Fail!Anon here with a Fail!Fill. Beware the misuse of switching between human and country names.
When Matthew had offered him a ticket to the Hockey game, Alfred really had no idea what he had gotten into. America was a fan of the sport, if his citizens were anything to go by, and he certainly got into it (maybe not like some of his other sports), but he’d honest to god never seen this side of his brother before. OK, so maybe he’d heard about before from a few who actually took notice of his less noticeable brother, but he’d never really given much thought about it either, though Canada could be aggressive, and sometimes he was sort of a liberal dick. But that was beside the point.
They entered the stadium with no hassle with Canada smiling nicely at the men who checked their tickets. America had received a few boo’s at his own jersey, but his brother gave him a small smile and said it was OK ‘They do that a lot’ even thought America knew that already, and Canada had even received a few high fives of men with the same jersey name. It was then things started to go a little haywire.
Canada seemed a bit more jumpy than usual when he asked America if he wanted a beer to take to their seats. When they managed to find their seats (trust Canada to make sure they were almost on the ice) Matthew had a smile on his face that was usually on the American’s. Alfred’s own smile faltered as he caught a glimpse of it. Tonight was going to be a long night.
…
At the end of the first period, not much had happened. Neither team managed to make a goal and no fights had been started, a disappointment to both of the brothers. By the beginning of the second period, however, Canada was once again on his toes.
Canada shook his head and turned toward the American. “Did you see that? Totally elbowed ‘im.” America just nodded in response, keeping his eyes on the rink when two of the players slammed into the glass in front of the blondes. America’s eyes went wide, Canada smiled, then Alfred’s ears promptly bled.
Matthew was up in no time, pounding against the shatterproof pane, yelling at the opposing team and cheering on his own. Some of the spectators around them cheered on the fiery blonde until the referee broke up the fight and turned to Matthew.
“Sir, please do not interfere with the players.”
If it was possible to describe Canada with a snarl, then a snarl it was. He sat back down rather roughly and growled out “I wasn’t fucking messing with them.”
Alfred had been quite shocked during the small scene, and as he reflected upon it moments later, he began to laugh to quell whatever the hell he was feeling in the pit of his stomach.
…
The second time Canada was up and yelling at the referee, America admitted to himself that he may or may not be slightly turned on by his brother’s new, forceful nature.
By the last period, he was trying to hide a now painful erection with his baggy jersey and trying to get it to go flaccid by thinking of detestable things, but the only thing that kept coming to mind was the image of Canada riding him and yelling at him in the best possible way.
Long Nights & Hockey Games [2/2]
anonymous
August 3 2009, 19:31:43 UTC
Canada was much too happy for America’s liking. His smile was now larger than Alfred’s as he cheered his team off the ice when they had won, and boy could Matthew use his mouth.
Canada turned toward his brother and ran a hand through his own hair. “Wasn’t that awesome?”
The aforementioned man was still biting his lips and merely nodded in response. The Canadian was expecting some retort about using the word awesome without referring to America himself of something equally childish, but it never came, and suddenly, he was worried.
“Hey, are you okay? You look sick. Was the beer bad?” The questioning blonde placed a hand on his brother’s thigh to support himself and he placed the other upon Alfred’s forehead. “You’re a little warm.” He was going back to his usual nice, reserved self.
America mumbled something that sounded like ‘No shit,’ then glued a small smile to his face. “I’m fine, really.” But keep yelling, please.
And America got his wish. “Alfred, don’t do this.” Canada’s tone was final, and one that he rarely used (and only on America.)
“You really wanna know?”
“For fuck’s sa-” Canada rare curse was swallowed when his brother’s lips met his own. The hand that was on America’s thigh was squeezed and Alfred moaned a bit into the still chaste kiss, deepening it.
Matthew finally moved his mouth against his brother’s.
A catcall was heard from the section above them and Alfred laughed into the kiss as Matthew blushed as they pulled away.
“What was that for?”
“The kiss? Oh, well, all that aggressiveness in you turned me on a bit.” The American smirked as his brother’s blush grew an angrier red. “Hey, come on, don’t turn back now. I like it when you’re rough.”
Canada crushed their lips together again, this time taking control. Somehow he managed to get over the armrest between them and straddle his loudmouthed brother. As he did so he felt America’s stiff problem. This time it was his turn to laugh.
“How long have you had that?”
America mumbled something unintelligible.
“Al…”
“Fine, since the beginning of the second period.”
Canada let out another small laugh. “Well then, we need to find a place better suited for me bossing you around.” He leaned in toward America. “Maybe I’ll even get a little rough.”
As they made their way out of the stadium, America realized he was right, it was going to be a long night.
When Matthew had offered him a ticket to the Hockey game, Alfred really had no idea what he had gotten into. America was a fan of the sport, if his citizens were anything to go by, and he certainly got into it (maybe not like some of his other sports), but he’d honest to god never seen this side of his brother before. OK, so maybe he’d heard about before from a few who actually took notice of his less noticeable brother, but he’d never really given much thought about it either, though Canada could be aggressive, and sometimes he was sort of a liberal dick. But that was beside the point.
They entered the stadium with no hassle with Canada smiling nicely at the men who checked their tickets. America had received a few boo’s at his own jersey, but his brother gave him a small smile and said it was OK ‘They do that a lot’ even thought America knew that already, and Canada had even received a few high fives of men with the same jersey name. It was then things started to go a little haywire.
Canada seemed a bit more jumpy than usual when he asked America if he wanted a beer to take to their seats. When they managed to find their seats (trust Canada to make sure they were almost on the ice) Matthew had a smile on his face that was usually on the American’s. Alfred’s own smile faltered as he caught a glimpse of it. Tonight was going to be a long night.
…
At the end of the first period, not much had happened. Neither team managed to make a goal and no fights had been started, a disappointment to both of the brothers. By the beginning of the second period, however, Canada was once again on his toes.
Canada shook his head and turned toward the American. “Did you see that? Totally elbowed ‘im.” America just nodded in response, keeping his eyes on the rink when two of the players slammed into the glass in front of the blondes. America’s eyes went wide, Canada smiled, then Alfred’s ears promptly bled.
Matthew was up in no time, pounding against the shatterproof pane, yelling at the opposing team and cheering on his own. Some of the spectators around them cheered on the fiery blonde until the referee broke up the fight and turned to Matthew.
“Sir, please do not interfere with the players.”
If it was possible to describe Canada with a snarl, then a snarl it was. He sat back down rather roughly and growled out “I wasn’t fucking messing with them.”
Alfred had been quite shocked during the small scene, and as he reflected upon it moments later, he began to laugh to quell whatever the hell he was feeling in the pit of his stomach.
…
The second time Canada was up and yelling at the referee, America admitted to himself that he may or may not be slightly turned on by his brother’s new, forceful nature.
By the last period, he was trying to hide a now painful erection with his baggy jersey and trying to get it to go flaccid by thinking of detestable things, but the only thing that kept coming to mind was the image of Canada riding him and yelling at him in the best possible way.
America bit his lip.
Oh god.
He was just making this worse.
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Canada turned toward his brother and ran a hand through his own hair. “Wasn’t that awesome?”
The aforementioned man was still biting his lips and merely nodded in response. The Canadian was expecting some retort about using the word awesome without referring to America himself of something equally childish, but it never came, and suddenly, he was worried.
“Hey, are you okay? You look sick. Was the beer bad?” The questioning blonde placed a hand on his brother’s thigh to support himself and he placed the other upon Alfred’s forehead. “You’re a little warm.” He was going back to his usual nice, reserved self.
America mumbled something that sounded like ‘No shit,’ then glued a small smile to his face. “I’m fine, really.” But keep yelling, please.
And America got his wish. “Alfred, don’t do this.” Canada’s tone was final, and one that he rarely used (and only on America.)
“You really wanna know?”
“For fuck’s sa-” Canada rare curse was swallowed when his brother’s lips met his own. The hand that was on America’s thigh was squeezed and Alfred moaned a bit into the still chaste kiss, deepening it.
Matthew finally moved his mouth against his brother’s.
A catcall was heard from the section above them and Alfred laughed into the kiss as Matthew blushed as they pulled away.
“What was that for?”
“The kiss? Oh, well, all that aggressiveness in you turned me on a bit.” The American smirked as his brother’s blush grew an angrier red. “Hey, come on, don’t turn back now. I like it when you’re rough.”
Canada crushed their lips together again, this time taking control. Somehow he managed to get over the armrest between them and straddle his loudmouthed brother. As he did so he felt America’s stiff problem. This time it was his turn to laugh.
“How long have you had that?”
America mumbled something unintelligible.
“Al…”
“Fine, since the beginning of the second period.”
Canada let out another small laugh. “Well then, we need to find a place better suited for me bossing you around.” He leaned in toward America. “Maybe I’ll even get a little rough.”
As they made their way out of the stadium, America realized he was right, it was going to be a long night.
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So much awesome and win in this 8D
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NO FAIL.
TOTAL WIN.
ALLOW ME TO HAVE YOUR CHILDREN.
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Author!Anon is very glad you liked!
And your first born will suffice.
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YOU MUST WRITE SMEXY TIMES FOR ANON!
PLEASE I WILL GIVE YOU MY SOUL!
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http://i89.photobucket.com/albums/k230/taylorsprarrow/Picture1-2.png
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HERE HAVE SOME INTERNETS, A MILLION COOKIES, MY FIRST BORN, AND SOME MORE INTERNETS.
YOU WIN AT EVERYTHING FOREVER. <33333 I hope you got that reference. C:
reCAPTCHA: toning Philip
Since when were you a coach, CAPTCHA?
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