[Cuba/England] Accented Spanish and Sugar (7b/?)
anonymous
July 30 2010, 21:03:33 UTC
Now he turned to look at Cuba, and he found himself trapped in Cuba’s gaze, his brown eyes molten in the darkness, drawing him in and making him shiver as a thumb stroked firmly and slowly along his thigh. There were promises in Cuba’s eyes and desire on the surface of his skin, and England swallowed thickly and forgot to breathe...
When the curtain dropped and the lights turned on, the applause and the following sounds of people rising, stretching and starting to shuffle towards the exit were lost on England. Cuba’s hand had subtly been reclaimed before it could be seen, and England wanted it back. He started as Cuba tapped him on the arm, and looked up to see that the other nation was already standing, quirking an eyebrow at him and looking amused.
“It’s time to leave,” he said, and England blushed a little, hurriedly getting to his feet as he realised that he’d got lost somewhere in the opening notes of Swan Lake and in memories of body heat.
As they stood, waiting for the crush of people all trying to leave at once to move, Cuba pressed himself closer to England from behind and leant forwards to speak lowly in his ear: “Come back to my place.” A hand touched England’s hip. “You can stay the night,” Cuba murmured, and England could only nod.
The journey back to Cuba’s house took far too long, and the feeling of their thighs pressed flush against each other in the back of the taxi wasn’t enough, the lingering glances weren’t nearly enough, and it wasn’t until Cuba had fumbled his key into the lock and opened the door that England felt free. He pushed Cuba into the wall of the hallway, grinding their bodies together and kissing him, touching him and demanding to know why Cuba had to be so fucking gorgeous at such inappropriate times.
They made it to the bedroom somehow or other, and paused to impatiently tug and yank at clothing, leaving it to messily crease on the floor as Cuba pushed England down onto the mattress. England reached up and pulled him even closer, their panting breaths mingling together in the air and their hips rocking against each other, seeking the friction and slickness and ahh.
And then it was burning and rhythm and want; it was pleasure pressed against skin, fingers curled tightly in fistfuls of sheets; it was sharp noises with soft edges and fitting together and patterns traced on skin with searing mouths. It was Spanish dripping from Cuba’s tongue and heat so deep that it scorched England’s body. It was green eyes like stardust and emeralds, and honeyed incoherent gasps falling from England’s lips, growing sharper and louder as Cuba moved like that and then the whole world imploded and gravity broke and the insides of England’s eyelids crystallised into coloured glass...
And when Cuba came inside him, England held his hand so tightly that he didn’t know if it was his pulse or Cuba’s that beat in his wrist like the waves outside that crashed on the Caribbean shore.
Thank you so much, anons, for the kind comments! I was especially glad to get positive comments on characterisation because Cuba gets so little screen time in the strips that it's damn hard to write him. I'm also happy that you like this pairing, because although I'd never realised I wanted Cuba/England before I saw this request and somehow came up with it, I think I'm starting to actually ship it *shot* Then again, World/England is my OTP
Some notes on the update:
Part 6 obviously takes place during WWI, during which German U-boats patrolled the seas around Britain and cut off food supplies by sinking merchant ships. February-June 1917 was the most dangerous time to travel to Britain as the campaign became even more brutal during those months. Cuba did indeed ship sugar to Britain during the war under the pretense that the ships were heading to Sweden
Cuba declared war on Germany on 8 April 1917
And the Royal Ballet Company did perform in the Gran Teatro in Havana on the first night of their performance, and Swan Lake was indeed part of their programme...shut up, you know you love my obsessive need to get the details right
Sorry for the short update and the pseudo porn. I'll write proper smut in one of the later parts OTL I just love writing sex like it's poetry in motion~
sorry, i dropped a comment at part 6 without knowing there would be a part 7 afterwards. XDD i was just THIS in love with that.
but oh, god. you frigging TEASE. the scene at the theater was probably the hottest thing i've read in the meme in a long, long while.and it was just teasing, yet -perfect. the tension, the heat, the scene, the touches, and everything that happened afterwards was just so PERFECT and SHIT
this fic is SO beautiful. *_* you ARE giving both england and cuba such a spot on characterization, and how they act, and it's refreshing to see this england after so many not-so-good fics i've read. and omg, THANK YOU.
cuba/england. i ship it now. thanks to you. i ship everybody/england as well, though with italy i must admit of preferring england topping, but this pairing... this pairing... it's so fresh and new and GOOD. i'm blown away.
also, yea, i love your ending notes. they do help a lot :3 research makes a fic WORK twice as much ;)
FUCK I do not really need to add to my list of England rarepairs (or Cuba pairs period), they cause me so much grief when I try to look for art/fic/fellow shippers, but this is SO AWESOME it might satisfy my growing obsession with England/Cuba all by itself. ♥
This anon just read through the whole fill and is now loving it! God how come I never saw the potential of Cuba/England before? I mean I ship World/England for god's sake!
The hatesex part really did touch me. Actually I think it's more than just hate and fight; they were angry, but to me it seemed more about the fact that they both knew the content of those insults were, in some way, true, and that they couldn't do anything but took out their frustration/hate on each other, which is kind of sad.
Then when Cuba said he wouldn't use England to annoy America again, it's like, he assured England their relationship was beyond spiting someone else and it made me smile since it's so indirect and cute.
They had their ups and downs and history and the way you write just sdgh;asgasklfgh <3
When the curtain dropped and the lights turned on, the applause and the following sounds of people rising, stretching and starting to shuffle towards the exit were lost on England. Cuba’s hand had subtly been reclaimed before it could be seen, and England wanted it back. He started as Cuba tapped him on the arm, and looked up to see that the other nation was already standing, quirking an eyebrow at him and looking amused.
“It’s time to leave,” he said, and England blushed a little, hurriedly getting to his feet as he realised that he’d got lost somewhere in the opening notes of Swan Lake and in memories of body heat.
As they stood, waiting for the crush of people all trying to leave at once to move, Cuba pressed himself closer to England from behind and leant forwards to speak lowly in his ear: “Come back to my place.” A hand touched England’s hip. “You can stay the night,” Cuba murmured, and England could only nod.
The journey back to Cuba’s house took far too long, and the feeling of their thighs pressed flush against each other in the back of the taxi wasn’t enough, the lingering glances weren’t nearly enough, and it wasn’t until Cuba had fumbled his key into the lock and opened the door that England felt free. He pushed Cuba into the wall of the hallway, grinding their bodies together and kissing him, touching him and demanding to know why Cuba had to be so fucking gorgeous at such inappropriate times.
They made it to the bedroom somehow or other, and paused to impatiently tug and yank at clothing, leaving it to messily crease on the floor as Cuba pushed England down onto the mattress. England reached up and pulled him even closer, their panting breaths mingling together in the air and their hips rocking against each other, seeking the friction and slickness and ahh.
And then it was burning and rhythm and want; it was pleasure pressed against skin, fingers curled tightly in fistfuls of sheets; it was sharp noises with soft edges and fitting together and patterns traced on skin with searing mouths. It was Spanish dripping from Cuba’s tongue and heat so deep that it scorched England’s body. It was green eyes like stardust and emeralds, and honeyed incoherent gasps falling from England’s lips, growing sharper and louder as Cuba moved like that and then the whole world imploded and gravity broke and the insides of England’s eyelids crystallised into coloured glass...
And when Cuba came inside him, England held his hand so tightly that he didn’t know if it was his pulse or Cuba’s that beat in his wrist like the waves outside that crashed on the Caribbean shore.
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Some notes on the update:
Part 6 obviously takes place during WWI, during which German U-boats patrolled the seas around Britain and cut off food supplies by sinking merchant ships. February-June 1917 was the most dangerous time to travel to Britain as the campaign became even more brutal during those months. Cuba did indeed ship sugar to Britain during the war under the pretense that the ships were heading to Sweden
Cuba declared war on Germany on 8 April 1917
And the Royal Ballet Company did perform in the Gran Teatro in Havana on the first night of their performance, and Swan Lake was indeed part of their programme...shut up, you know you love my obsessive need to get the details right
Sorry for the short update and the pseudo porn. I'll write proper smut in one of the later parts OTL I just love writing sex like it's poetry in motion~
TBC
Reply
sorry, i dropped a comment at part 6 without knowing there would be a part 7 afterwards. XDD i was just THIS in love with that.
but oh, god. you frigging TEASE. the scene at the theater was probably the hottest thing i've read in the meme in a long, long while.and it was just teasing, yet -perfect. the tension, the heat, the scene, the touches, and everything that happened afterwards was just so PERFECT and SHIT
this fic is SO beautiful. *_* you ARE giving both england and cuba such a spot on characterization, and how they act, and it's refreshing to see this england after so many not-so-good fics i've read. and omg, THANK YOU.
cuba/england. i ship it now. thanks to you. i ship everybody/england as well, though with italy i must admit of preferring england topping, but this pairing... this pairing... it's so fresh and new and GOOD. i'm blown away.
also, yea, i love your ending notes. they do help a lot :3 research makes a fic WORK twice as much ;)
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PS: Oh hello there, fellow World/England shipper! *brofist*
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This anon just read through the whole fill and is now loving it! God how come I never saw the potential of Cuba/England before? I mean I ship World/England for god's sake!
The hatesex part really did touch me. Actually I think it's more than just hate and fight; they were angry, but to me it seemed more about the fact that they both knew the content of those insults were, in some way, true, and that they couldn't do anything but took out their frustration/hate on each other, which is kind of sad.
Then when Cuba said he wouldn't use England to annoy America again, it's like, he assured England their relationship was beyond spiting someone else and it made me smile since it's so indirect and cute.
They had their ups and downs and history and the way you write just sdgh;asgasklfgh <3
OhshitIamramblingshutupself
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