The Room [3b/?]
anonymous
November 22 2009, 23:31:09 UTC
“But everbody know you’re a virgin! It’s not a secret anymore!” He was laughing so hard there were tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. He finally managed to grab England’s wrists and pull them away. “Well, now I’m going to have to kill you because you know my secret. Such a shame that you have to die a virgin.”
“Oh, where’s the shame in that?” he retorted, trying to free his hands. He over balanced, and fell straight onto America.
Their faces were so close together, their noses only a few inches apart, eyes blinking at each other. It made England flush, but he didn’t move away, instead, he only moved closer, eyelids fluttering. He could see America’s eyelashes, behind his glasses, and his breath was warm on England’s cheek. America’s eyes were half lidded, and he was leaning up, grip loosening on England’s hands.
Then the sound of someone banging through the air vents brought him out of his trance. What was he doing? England pushed away, standing back up, not quite sure what to say to someone you had just almost kissed.
America sighed, pushing himself up to sit on the floor. He looked disappointed, and England tried to ignore that fact.
“Someone’s trying to get in through the vent,” he said, stating the obvious and effectively changing the subject.
“Well, then we’re just going to have to stop them, aren’t we?” America said, standing up. He squinted at the ceiling, where the thumping and sound of sheet metal being stretched was coming from. “I have to keep you safe,” he said in an aside to himself that England heard regardless. England blushed again, as he did every single time something towards him came out of America’s mouth. Being trapped in this room with him was not good for England’s mental health.
For he wanted to be safe in America’s arms again, burying his face into that America-smelling jacket. Or be on the floor, still kissing. England blinked when he realized what he was thinking. He had just claimed a few minutes earlier that he didn’t have sexual urges. And yet he was thinking about kissing, of all people, America senseless on the floor.
It could be somebody you know already. And just one day, it will all click in your brain and…
“All you’ll want is them,” England finished out loud in a quiet voice. No, it couldn’t be right. He didn’t love America. He didn’t even like him half the time! He was mad at the brat for leaving him all those years ago. But that was the trick, because why was he so mad if he didn’t even like America? Why was he still around him and teasing him?
And why did he want to kiss him so much?
No. He wouldn’t accept this. It was just because America was protecting him and because of his nerves. It had nothing to do with sex! Nothing whatsoever. He was not going to kiss America senseless, and he didn’t have that tingling feeling running through him and he most certainly didn’t want America to take his virginity.
Re: The Room [3b/?]
anonymous
November 23 2009, 01:07:26 UTC
oooooooh my gosh yessssss!! I just cannot express how much I love this story. The interaction is so good and the way you're moving the situation is effortlesly PERFECT. Please more, good anon!!!
Re: The Room [3b/?]
anonymous
November 23 2009, 08:10:00 UTC
*tuts* Denial isn't healthy, England. And I doubt you'll be able to effectively deny yourself when that tingling feeling migrates to lower regions of your body...
I love this fill so far, anon, and I especially love how you didn't just make England completely passive and vulnerable. He's clearly a bit of a blushing virgin here, but he's still the nation who won't just immediately cave in to his desires.
Re: The Room [3b/?]
anonymous
November 27 2009, 18:34:42 UTC
Aaaaaaah. This is what we need more of. Such pretty, sweet, d'awww-worthy fluff! Like the anons before me have said, there's too little of this for USUK (and that's saying a lot, considering the number of fics they have), and you write it beautifully. I hope you update soon!
The Room [4a/?]
anonymous
December 2 2009, 23:06:15 UTC
I hope this part doesn't seem rushed. I really wracked my brain over this.
---------- America was too busy inspecting the vent opening to even notice the realization that England had just come to. Or hadn’t come to. It wouldn’t change anything, he told himself firmly. There was nothing to change. There would be no hugging and no kissing and no sex on his watch.
He watched as America overturned an end table and pushed it in front of the grate near the floor. It seemed almost flimsy, unlike the dresser in front of the door. But it was all they had at the moment, so it would have to do. America admired his handiwork and turned to England, grinning.
“See, nobody will get in here! Your virginity is safe with me, Iggy!” It struck him as to how ironic that statement was, because he was starting to get the feeling that it wasn’t safe at all with America in the room.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, realizing this was the second time in five minutes that he had said those words to America. He really needed to stop doing that, or else America would get a swelled head or really think he was a hero…even though he had saved him twice already.
A silence fell over them, America sitting in his chair and swinging his legs, whistling a cheerful tune, possibly to break the silence. England was sitting on his bed now, contemplating America. The Nation had to be experienced. There was no utter way he was a virgin, not anymore. Especially with the fact that France helped him during the Revolutionary War.
Back then he had known it was only a matter of time before France corrupted his young charge and took him to bed. And indeed, France had bragged about it to hurt England, to let him know that America wasn’t England’s anymore. It had frustrated England to no end, because America, his own colony, had lost his virginity before England. He had grown up and left him behind.
He had been so upset that he had gotten drunk and in a drunken haze had almost done it, with some prostitute he had picked up off the street. Only, he forgot two key things: people who are drunk can’t usually get it up, and he almost had no sexual drive anyway. It ended up with her storming off after he had paid her for her wasted time, and him drinking an entire bottle of rum to try to forget.
But he never could.
“What’s it like?” he found himself asking to America.
“What’s what like?” America questioned, looking confused.
“What’s sex like, you git! What does it feel like?” America looked surprised for a moment that he would be asking that. England just scowled in his direction, hoping to look like he wasn’t a totally pathetic man. He had the slightest feeling it wasn’t working.
“It… It’s hard to explain. Sex is, well…sex. It’s pleasure between two people. Look it up in a dictionary, I’m sure you have one around here,” America said, leaning back in his chair. England almost snapped back at him, but he saw the thoughtful look on America’s face and realized he wasn’t done speaking yet. “Then there’s making love.” England blinked at that matter-of-fact statement.
The Room [4b/?]
anonymous
December 2 2009, 23:09:47 UTC
“Aren’t they…the same thing?” He’d heard them used interchangeably, especially by a certain Frenchman when talking about his conquests. It made England want to drop the entire subject, but he was curious as to what America was going to say in response.
“No, they’re not the same thing,” America said, shaking his head emphatically. “I don’t actually know what it feels like, but I know they’re different. Making love is more emotional, more involved… You only do it with someone you love, and when you cross that threshold, it’s forever.” His vivid blue eyes pinned England to the chair, even through his glasses. It made his breath flow out of his body, because America was so…beautiful… And he clamped down firmly on that thought.
“Hollywood?” he enquired smoothly, or what he hoped was smoothly, since hundreds of butterflies decided to make a home in his stomach. America lost that intense look and flushed, looking distinctly embarrassed.
“Hollywood. It gets into my head and I get really romantic.”
“I don’t mind,” England blurted, his mouth getting ahead of himself. He really didn’t mind, because this was a side of America he could deal with. It was…strange, realizing that America actually had morals and was, dare he say it…chivalric. “I mean, I’m not going to make fun of you for it.”
“Yeah. That would be really stupid of you. You’re still a virgin. And how old are you?” America asked, a smirk playing across his face. England just wanted to smack him. “Iggy, c’mon, tell me truthfully, do you want to die a virgin, or what?”
England wasn’t quite sure he knew the answer to that question. A part of him was saying yes, that he would never give into those base needs, and he had proved he didn’t need them. But another part, growing stronger by the second, was giving an emphatic no.
“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “Perhaps someday…”
America smiled at him, that strangely intense look on his face. “It’s like I said before. You’re waiting for your special somebody.” England’s stomach weakly did a back flip at that and he flushed. The vision of kissing America, taking those glasses of his off and really kissing him returned tenfold. He hurriedly tried to think of the last person he had wanted to kiss like that, and drew an utter blank.
It was because he had never wanted to kiss anybody like that. He simply never had the drive to want to kiss and hold somebody. Except for America. When he was a colony, and now when he was an adult, all grown up. England had always been drawn to America, had loved to cuddle him when he was little. When he had left, he didn’t know how to handle a grown up America, America his equal. But now he realized that the urge to be close to him hadn’t ever gone away. It had just shifted to something much more…adult.
England swallowed, feeling his face heat up, and tried to backtrack, tried to put himself back into willful denial. But that realization had loosed floodgates in his mind, and he couldn’t stop it. The way America’s blue eyes sparkled, that stupid little cowlick that wouldn’t lie flat, his smell, the way his clothes fit on him, his whole entire posture… It all made England shiver, but in a nice way.
“England?” A hand was waving in front of his face and he shook himself out of his thoughts, pushing them back down. America looked relieved. “You looked really far away for a moment there. Listen, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I was just asking…” America told him, a faint flush painting his cheeks. England noticed immediately how nice America looked like that.
The Room [4c/?]
anonymous
December 2 2009, 23:12:26 UTC
“You didn’t. Don’t worry. I’m used to the fact that my being a virgin isn’t exactly… becoming of a Nation my age.” It was downright embarrassing and pathetic. But yet…he wasn’t doing anything about it. There were about twenty countries outside that door, ready to shag him on a moment’s notice. He wasn’t quite sure if it was fear or America’s explanation.
But still…there was that feeling that was starting to take a hold of him, flush creeping down his neck, his palms going sweaty, a heat that swallowed his body and most rational thought throbbing to his heartbeat. And when exactly had he started breathing heavily? He licked his dry lips and shifted in his chair, suddenly uncomfortable wherever he moved. His clothes were itchy too, and he wondered if his clothes had always been this confining. How had he survived?
Staring into America’s blue eyes, which had suddenly darkened and taken on an intense predatory look, rational thought flitted back into his brain for a split second to tell him that, unmistakably, he was in the first stages of sexual arousal.
Re: The Room [4c/?]
anonymous
December 4 2009, 09:00:59 UTC
So Al's effectively cut off entrance from the air vent and door. Protecting England while attemptiing to awaken his feelings for you? Clever move Al. lol
I love Hollywood. Al's romantic side is just too sweet. No wonder Iggy's falling for him...or I should say he's beginning to understand hs feelings.
Love this chapter. Please update soon.
reCAPTCHA: playing returned...Is Iggy planning on flirting? XD
Re: The Room [4c/?]
anonymous
December 8 2009, 01:42:52 UTC
I wonder why this hasn't been done more often?? I mean if you think about it I would guess that it's practically canon. He sees Unicorns for goodness sake.
“Oh, where’s the shame in that?” he retorted, trying to free his hands. He over balanced, and fell straight onto America.
Their faces were so close together, their noses only a few inches apart, eyes blinking at each other. It made England flush, but he didn’t move away, instead, he only moved closer, eyelids fluttering. He could see America’s eyelashes, behind his glasses, and his breath was warm on England’s cheek. America’s eyes were half lidded, and he was leaning up, grip loosening on England’s hands.
Then the sound of someone banging through the air vents brought him out of his trance. What was he doing? England pushed away, standing back up, not quite sure what to say to someone you had just almost kissed.
America sighed, pushing himself up to sit on the floor. He looked disappointed, and England tried to ignore that fact.
“Someone’s trying to get in through the vent,” he said, stating the obvious and effectively changing the subject.
“Well, then we’re just going to have to stop them, aren’t we?” America said, standing up. He squinted at the ceiling, where the thumping and sound of sheet metal being stretched was coming from. “I have to keep you safe,” he said in an aside to himself that England heard regardless. England blushed again, as he did every single time something towards him came out of America’s mouth. Being trapped in this room with him was not good for England’s mental health.
For he wanted to be safe in America’s arms again, burying his face into that America-smelling jacket. Or be on the floor, still kissing. England blinked when he realized what he was thinking. He had just claimed a few minutes earlier that he didn’t have sexual urges. And yet he was thinking about kissing, of all people, America senseless on the floor.
It could be somebody you know already. And just one day, it will all click in your brain and…
“All you’ll want is them,” England finished out loud in a quiet voice. No, it couldn’t be right. He didn’t love America. He didn’t even like him half the time! He was mad at the brat for leaving him all those years ago. But that was the trick, because why was he so mad if he didn’t even like America? Why was he still around him and teasing him?
And why did he want to kiss him so much?
No. He wouldn’t accept this. It was just because America was protecting him and because of his nerves. It had nothing to do with sex! Nothing whatsoever. He was not going to kiss America senseless, and he didn’t have that tingling feeling running through him and he most certainly didn’t want America to take his virginity.
Not at all. And it would stay that way.
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captcha: entranceway fends ...Nice captcha, nice.
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I love this fill so far, anon, and I especially love how you didn't just make England completely passive and vulnerable. He's clearly a bit of a blushing virgin here, but he's still the nation who won't just immediately cave in to his desires.
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I really hope to see this continued Anon! ~bookmarked
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----------
America was too busy inspecting the vent opening to even notice the realization that England had just come to. Or hadn’t come to. It wouldn’t change anything, he told himself firmly. There was nothing to change. There would be no hugging and no kissing and no sex on his watch.
He watched as America overturned an end table and pushed it in front of the grate near the floor. It seemed almost flimsy, unlike the dresser in front of the door. But it was all they had at the moment, so it would have to do. America admired his handiwork and turned to England, grinning.
“See, nobody will get in here! Your virginity is safe with me, Iggy!” It struck him as to how ironic that statement was, because he was starting to get the feeling that it wasn’t safe at all with America in the room.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, realizing this was the second time in five minutes that he had said those words to America. He really needed to stop doing that, or else America would get a swelled head or really think he was a hero…even though he had saved him twice already.
A silence fell over them, America sitting in his chair and swinging his legs, whistling a cheerful tune, possibly to break the silence. England was sitting on his bed now, contemplating America. The Nation had to be experienced. There was no utter way he was a virgin, not anymore. Especially with the fact that France helped him during the Revolutionary War.
Back then he had known it was only a matter of time before France corrupted his young charge and took him to bed. And indeed, France had bragged about it to hurt England, to let him know that America wasn’t England’s anymore. It had frustrated England to no end, because America, his own colony, had lost his virginity before England. He had grown up and left him behind.
He had been so upset that he had gotten drunk and in a drunken haze had almost done it, with some prostitute he had picked up off the street. Only, he forgot two key things: people who are drunk can’t usually get it up, and he almost had no sexual drive anyway. It ended up with her storming off after he had paid her for her wasted time, and him drinking an entire bottle of rum to try to forget.
But he never could.
“What’s it like?” he found himself asking to America.
“What’s what like?” America questioned, looking confused.
“What’s sex like, you git! What does it feel like?” America looked surprised for a moment that he would be asking that. England just scowled in his direction, hoping to look like he wasn’t a totally pathetic man. He had the slightest feeling it wasn’t working.
“It… It’s hard to explain. Sex is, well…sex. It’s pleasure between two people. Look it up in a dictionary, I’m sure you have one around here,” America said, leaning back in his chair. England almost snapped back at him, but he saw the thoughtful look on America’s face and realized he wasn’t done speaking yet. “Then there’s making love.” England blinked at that matter-of-fact statement.
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“No, they’re not the same thing,” America said, shaking his head emphatically. “I don’t actually know what it feels like, but I know they’re different. Making love is more emotional, more involved… You only do it with someone you love, and when you cross that threshold, it’s forever.” His vivid blue eyes pinned England to the chair, even through his glasses. It made his breath flow out of his body, because America was so…beautiful… And he clamped down firmly on that thought.
“Hollywood?” he enquired smoothly, or what he hoped was smoothly, since hundreds of butterflies decided to make a home in his stomach. America lost that intense look and flushed, looking distinctly embarrassed.
“Hollywood. It gets into my head and I get really romantic.”
“I don’t mind,” England blurted, his mouth getting ahead of himself. He really didn’t mind, because this was a side of America he could deal with. It was…strange, realizing that America actually had morals and was, dare he say it…chivalric. “I mean, I’m not going to make fun of you for it.”
“Yeah. That would be really stupid of you. You’re still a virgin. And how old are you?” America asked, a smirk playing across his face. England just wanted to smack him. “Iggy, c’mon, tell me truthfully, do you want to die a virgin, or what?”
England wasn’t quite sure he knew the answer to that question. A part of him was saying yes, that he would never give into those base needs, and he had proved he didn’t need them. But another part, growing stronger by the second, was giving an emphatic no.
“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “Perhaps someday…”
America smiled at him, that strangely intense look on his face. “It’s like I said before. You’re waiting for your special somebody.” England’s stomach weakly did a back flip at that and he flushed. The vision of kissing America, taking those glasses of his off and really kissing him returned tenfold. He hurriedly tried to think of the last person he had wanted to kiss like that, and drew an utter blank.
It was because he had never wanted to kiss anybody like that. He simply never had the drive to want to kiss and hold somebody. Except for America. When he was a colony, and now when he was an adult, all grown up. England had always been drawn to America, had loved to cuddle him when he was little. When he had left, he didn’t know how to handle a grown up America, America his equal. But now he realized that the urge to be close to him hadn’t ever gone away. It had just shifted to something much more…adult.
England swallowed, feeling his face heat up, and tried to backtrack, tried to put himself back into willful denial. But that realization had loosed floodgates in his mind, and he couldn’t stop it. The way America’s blue eyes sparkled, that stupid little cowlick that wouldn’t lie flat, his smell, the way his clothes fit on him, his whole entire posture… It all made England shiver, but in a nice way.
“England?” A hand was waving in front of his face and he shook himself out of his thoughts, pushing them back down. America looked relieved. “You looked really far away for a moment there. Listen, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I was just asking…” America told him, a faint flush painting his cheeks. England noticed immediately how nice America looked like that.
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But still…there was that feeling that was starting to take a hold of him, flush creeping down his neck, his palms going sweaty, a heat that swallowed his body and most rational thought throbbing to his heartbeat. And when exactly had he started breathing heavily? He licked his dry lips and shifted in his chair, suddenly uncomfortable wherever he moved. His clothes were itchy too, and he wondered if his clothes had always been this confining. How had he survived?
Staring into America’s blue eyes, which had suddenly darkened and taken on an intense predatory look, rational thought flitted back into his brain for a split second to tell him that, unmistakably, he was in the first stages of sexual arousal.
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Great update anon!
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I love Hollywood. Al's romantic side is just too sweet. No wonder Iggy's falling for him...or I should say he's beginning to understand hs feelings.
Love this chapter. Please update soon.
reCAPTCHA: playing returned...Is Iggy planning on flirting? XD
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please update :D
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