Wait, What? (4/6)
anonymous
January 6 2011, 18:41:18 UTC
America managed to still England’s movements with his strong grasp. His breath was tumbling out in ragged bursts as he kept England motionless. England’s body was trembling with the need to move, but America wouldn’t release him. With a sudden intake of air, America managed to push himself up, and rolled England onto his back. He straddled England’s waist like a cowboy getting ready to ride.
“I’m sophisticated,” he said back ferociously, licking his hand and reaching behind to coat England’s cock with more saliva, stroking gently to draw that passion from his lips. “I’m so fucking sophisticated, I bleed champagne.” His body was aching to be filled again, so he lifted his ass up and stroked England’s erection back and forth across his opening, until finally sliding down onto it. He filled himself to the hilt and his eyes rolled back.
“Yes, you are a paragon of sophistication,” England replied quietly, entranced by the look of pure bliss on America’s face. “The Star Wars pajamas in your suitcase are proof enough of that.”
America slowly raised his hips, and slammed himself down on England’s cock. Both men groaned at the same time.
“You calling me a nerd?” America built a rhythm of rolling his hips, hands gripping England’s waist to steady himself.
For a while, it was all England could do to hold onto the bed. Using his remaining strength, he thrust his hips upward, meeting America’s energy and sliding in even deeper.
“I’m calling you a s-slovenly, overbearing fool who has no sense of decency and no respect for his elders,” he hissed out, trailing a hand inward along America’s thigh, careful to avoid the bruise.
“O-oh yeah?” America’s breath hitched when England grabbed his cock and started stroking, but he didn’t stop moving. He couldn’t stop. “Well you’re cold…” Another gasp. “…and stuffy…” He threw his head back, grinding forward into England’s hand, and rolling backward onto his cock. “…and you drive on the wrong - ah-“ The heat was building. “w-wrong side-“ The pleasure pooled and burst forth. “OF THE ROAD!” He cried out, limbs shaking.
His release slid down England’s chest and fingers as he continued to rock back and forth. It wasn’t long before England took a deep, shuddering breath and came hard inside him. A few more thrusts and America rested against his heels before falling over heavily onto the bed.
When he could move again, England crawled to America and laid down beside him. “You drive on the wrong side,” he whispered, and kissed America’s neck.
America took his hand and squeezed it gently as they looked up toward the ceiling. “Nuh-uh,” he said, attempting to breathe steadily. “The majority of nations drive on the right.”
England drew in a deep breath and sighed it out. “How do you know that?”
Instinctively, America turned to look at him. “I read it.”
“In a book?” England quirked an eyebrow.
“In a magazine,” America replied.
England smirked at him.
“What’s wrong with magazines?” America’s tone was defensive. England’s smirk wouldn’t budge. “They have credible information!” he insisted.
“Do they, now?” England chuckled. “We are talking about yours, aren’t we?”
“Hey. Just…shut up.” He leaned over and stopped England’s smile with a kiss.
Fingers entwined, they cuddled together in silence for several minutes. After a while, the silence turned from peaceful to unnerving. It felt like something important had happened that neither of them could quite comprehend. The concealed tube beneath the bed continued to emit the substance that had so blurred the line of their relationship.
Slowly, England pushed himself towards the edge of the bed, and America followed him. “Your insistence on arguing is going to make us late,” he said, going into the bathroom, still unable to acknowledge their tryst.
“You started it,” America replied, and flipped the light switch. He grabbed a couple of hand towels, soaked them in warm water, and used one to wipe the come off of England’s chest.
Wait, What? (5/6)
anonymous
January 6 2011, 18:43:59 UTC
“I did not,” England snapped. When his chest and hands were clean, he took the other towel and crouched down behind America, nudging his legs apart. America spread his legs and held on to the counter.
“D-did so,” he said back, biting his lip as England wiped off the come that had seeped out of him and down his inner thigh. When he looked into the mirror and saw himself, stark naked and squirming, he felt a moment of pointed confusion, like something was deeply wrong with the situation. It passed when England stood up and turned him around.
“I’m not going to argue about who started the argument,” England insisted. He finished cleaning himself while America quickly took a comb to his hair.
They walked back towards the bed and started gathering their clothing, throwing ties and shirts back and forth as they found them.
“Cause you know I’m right,” America said smugly. He used the opportunity to clear up his glasses with the corner of his shirt.
They dressed with escalating speed, aware that time was running out quickly.
“You’re always right in your head, aren’t you,” England observed. He was wearing pants, socks, and one arm of his shirt.
America pulled his belt through the remaining loops. “I am always right. When it matters.”
“Ah.” England did the last few buttons on his jacket and picked up his briefcase. “So when you’re wrong, you just convince yourself it doesn’t matter. I must say, the mind of an egomaniac is fascinating.” He stood and held the door open. “Don’t forget the document.”
America sneered and lifted the briefcase in his hand, to show that he had everything ready to go. “Glad I entertain you so much, mister Judgmental Asshole.” He turned out the lights and hurried through the door.
Side by side, they left the room bickering, with absolutely no understanding of what had physically transpired between them. They kept their voices low as they passed the other rooms, until they got into the elevator car.
When the elevator arrived at the lobby, America emerged without pause, followed by England. Their shoes pattered on the marble floor.
“If you hate all my movies so much, why do you keeping watching-” America stopped abruptly near the entrance and held a hand up to his head. It felt as though a veil was being lifted gradually.
England performed the same motion, rubbing his forehead like he was trying to remember a dream. He grimaced as he tried to break through the cloudy fog that hung over his mind. Everything seemed frozen in time for one confusing moment.
And suddenly, it all became perfectly clear. The answer to why they both felt so uneasy and exhausted and sated.
Every glorious, sweaty detail became illuminated in their memory.
America’s eyes widened as his line of sight gravitated helplessly towards England’s crotch. He staggered back and opened his mouth as if to speak, but simply started to turn a deep shade of red. It was a feeling far beyond embarrassment or shame. He had just had been thoroughly fucked by someone without realizing it was happening, and that someone happened to be England.
On the other side, with the same harrowed look in his eyes, England was already blushing from his roots to his neck, mouth hanging open in a silent scream. His eyelid started twitching compulsively, and his legs felt like they were going to give way at any moment. He made a noise that sounded like a poor imitation of human language.
They stared at each other for a moment that held an eternity, while other hotel guests shot them puzzled glances and walked past.
England was the first to take a step, lurching forward as if his shoes contained heavy weights. He took another step, and then another, and was soon rushing stiffly for the door, without a single glance back. Every visible inch of skin was still heated and flushed. America watched through the glass, frozen to the spot, as he got into a waiting taxi and drove off.
Wait, What? (6/6) - with SUPER ULTRA CLICHÉ ENDING for your pleasures
anonymous
January 6 2011, 18:48:53 UTC
America could feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears and stared off into the distance. He had two choices. He could either go to the meeting, hand over the paper and pray that he wouldn’t be forced to acknowledge England’s existence in any way, or he could find the nearest closet and hide in it forever.
Somehow, against everything his mind was screaming at him, he chose the former - even knowing that he could never look his ally in the face again, and that he would have to sit there for hours knowing that England’s come was still inside him.
He just had to wait for his feet to unglue themselves from the ground.
-----
In the back of an unmarked van parked inconspicuously across the street, three figures huddled around a glowing monitor. A set of speakers crackled softly.
“Glad I entertain you so much, mister Judgmental Asshole,” said the man on the screen, just before the lights went out.
After a long stretch of silence, Hungary turned to her companions. France was grinning like a maniac, and Japan was shielding his face, leaving just enough space to peek between his fingers.
The plan had not gone exactly as they had anticipated.
“So…that was weird,” she said, interrupting the quiet.
France grunted indifferently, still smirking at the screen. Japan didn’t say anything.
“At least it worked. Kind of.”
France grunted appreciatively, still smirking at the screen. Japan didn’t say anything.
She leaned forward and turned off the central recording device. A blissful grin spread across her face as she watching the red light blink and fade out. Oh, the wonders of technology.
Re: Wait, What? (6/6) - with SUPER ULTRA CLICHÉ ENDING for your pleasures
anonymous
January 6 2011, 21:25:10 UTC
That was both strangely and strangely hot; I knew the cliche ending was coming, but that doesn't make it bad! Heh, and their bemused reactions were freaking hilarious. <3<3<3 And France's crazed grinning? LOL
And I'll be the one saying: epilogue/sequel/moar pls!
anonymous
January 6 2011, 22:53:04 UTC
Their bickering was spot on, and it felt truly strange and still funny and sexy the way they went through the motions of sex, and bloody hot sex at that.
Would love to read something more!! Oh goodness the following days would be so awkward, especially for America I believe. I find it oddly satisfying that the one to be on the receiving end was Alfred precisely. Because he seemed to have the upper-hand with all his witty comebacks, but still is the one who allowed England to take him *drools a bit*
SO MOAR!!! Epilogue with And then What? pls!! Serves the silly boys right to belately realize what good chemistry they have (at least in the bedroom LOL) If this would take them to start love-hate dates I wound't complain XDDDD
Awesome! ::G:: I don't know what's better; their fantastic bickering, or the fact that they were bickering about the letter "u" and so on while having mindblowing sex. Oh, maybe it's that America yells "the wrong side of the road" during his climax. Or the realization, which was perfecto. The cliche ending included all the usual suspects. Right on the money, anon!
Very cleverly done! Anon, I'm grinning from ear to ear. And, er, it was hot, too. Thank you! SO MUCH, SERIOUSLY.
Re: Wait, What? (6/6) - with SUPER ULTRA CLICHÉ ENDING for your pleasures
anonymous
January 8 2011, 22:58:04 UTC
That was strangely erotic. Somehow, the fact that they didn't want this or even acknoelwedged it made it hotter, and I'm very glad the cliched ending wasn't what I, at first, thought: that they would magically realise their attraction and get together. I think you have something really good going on, and I second the sequel request; a lot can be done with these two after this happened against their wills and for the first time.
MORE MORE WRITE MOREEEE!!
anonymous
January 12 2011, 04:54:54 UTC
The masses have spoken!!! (like the 5 commenters but HEY WE LOVE THIS SO IT HAS TO COUNT!!)
Top!England hell yes, that was damn hot!!
Write more pretty please!! They've just GOT TO TALK IT OUT!! Oh gosh England would be so damn embarrassed instead of being smug, I can see it so perfectly, and then they would start suspecting at least of France LOL LOL
“I’m sophisticated,” he said back ferociously, licking his hand and reaching behind to coat England’s cock with more saliva, stroking gently to draw that passion from his lips. “I’m so fucking sophisticated, I bleed champagne.” His body was aching to be filled again, so he lifted his ass up and stroked England’s erection back and forth across his opening, until finally sliding down onto it. He filled himself to the hilt and his eyes rolled back.
“Yes, you are a paragon of sophistication,” England replied quietly, entranced by the look of pure bliss on America’s face. “The Star Wars pajamas in your suitcase are proof enough of that.”
America slowly raised his hips, and slammed himself down on England’s cock. Both men groaned at the same time.
“You calling me a nerd?” America built a rhythm of rolling his hips, hands gripping England’s waist to steady himself.
For a while, it was all England could do to hold onto the bed. Using his remaining strength, he thrust his hips upward, meeting America’s energy and sliding in even deeper.
“I’m calling you a s-slovenly, overbearing fool who has no sense of decency and no respect for his elders,” he hissed out, trailing a hand inward along America’s thigh, careful to avoid the bruise.
“O-oh yeah?” America’s breath hitched when England grabbed his cock and started stroking, but he didn’t stop moving. He couldn’t stop. “Well you’re cold…” Another gasp. “…and stuffy…” He threw his head back, grinding forward into England’s hand, and rolling backward onto his cock. “…and you drive on the wrong - ah-“ The heat was building. “w-wrong side-“ The pleasure pooled and burst forth. “OF THE ROAD!” He cried out, limbs shaking.
His release slid down England’s chest and fingers as he continued to rock back and forth. It wasn’t long before England took a deep, shuddering breath and came hard inside him. A few more thrusts and America rested against his heels before falling over heavily onto the bed.
When he could move again, England crawled to America and laid down beside him. “You drive on the wrong side,” he whispered, and kissed America’s neck.
America took his hand and squeezed it gently as they looked up toward the ceiling. “Nuh-uh,” he said, attempting to breathe steadily. “The majority of nations drive on the right.”
England drew in a deep breath and sighed it out. “How do you know that?”
Instinctively, America turned to look at him. “I read it.”
“In a book?” England quirked an eyebrow.
“In a magazine,” America replied.
England smirked at him.
“What’s wrong with magazines?” America’s tone was defensive. England’s smirk wouldn’t budge. “They have credible information!” he insisted.
“Do they, now?” England chuckled. “We are talking about yours, aren’t we?”
“Hey. Just…shut up.” He leaned over and stopped England’s smile with a kiss.
Fingers entwined, they cuddled together in silence for several minutes. After a while, the silence turned from peaceful to unnerving. It felt like something important had happened that neither of them could quite comprehend. The concealed tube beneath the bed continued to emit the substance that had so blurred the line of their relationship.
Slowly, England pushed himself towards the edge of the bed, and America followed him.
“Your insistence on arguing is going to make us late,” he said, going into the bathroom, still unable to acknowledge their tryst.
“You started it,” America replied, and flipped the light switch. He grabbed a couple of hand towels, soaked them in warm water, and used one to wipe the come off of England’s chest.
Reply
“D-did so,” he said back, biting his lip as England wiped off the come that had seeped out of him and down his inner thigh. When he looked into the mirror and saw himself, stark naked and squirming, he felt a moment of pointed confusion, like something was deeply wrong with the situation. It passed when England stood up and turned him around.
“I’m not going to argue about who started the argument,” England insisted. He finished cleaning himself while America quickly took a comb to his hair.
They walked back towards the bed and started gathering their clothing, throwing ties and shirts back and forth as they found them.
“Cause you know I’m right,” America said smugly. He used the opportunity to clear up his glasses with the corner of his shirt.
They dressed with escalating speed, aware that time was running out quickly.
“You’re always right in your head, aren’t you,” England observed. He was wearing pants, socks, and one arm of his shirt.
America pulled his belt through the remaining loops. “I am always right. When it matters.”
“Ah.” England did the last few buttons on his jacket and picked up his briefcase. “So when you’re wrong, you just convince yourself it doesn’t matter. I must say, the mind of an egomaniac is fascinating.” He stood and held the door open. “Don’t forget the document.”
America sneered and lifted the briefcase in his hand, to show that he had everything ready to go. “Glad I entertain you so much, mister Judgmental Asshole.” He turned out the lights and hurried through the door.
Side by side, they left the room bickering, with absolutely no understanding of what had physically transpired between them. They kept their voices low as they passed the other rooms, until they got into the elevator car.
When the elevator arrived at the lobby, America emerged without pause, followed by England. Their shoes pattered on the marble floor.
“If you hate all my movies so much, why do you keeping watching-”
America stopped abruptly near the entrance and held a hand up to his head. It felt as though a veil was being lifted gradually.
England performed the same motion, rubbing his forehead like he was trying to remember a dream. He grimaced as he tried to break through the cloudy fog that hung over his mind. Everything seemed frozen in time for one confusing moment.
And suddenly, it all became perfectly clear. The answer to why they both felt so uneasy and exhausted and sated.
Every glorious, sweaty detail became illuminated in their memory.
America’s eyes widened as his line of sight gravitated helplessly towards England’s crotch. He staggered back and opened his mouth as if to speak, but simply started to turn a deep shade of red. It was a feeling far beyond embarrassment or shame. He had just had been thoroughly fucked by someone without realizing it was happening, and that someone happened to be England.
On the other side, with the same harrowed look in his eyes, England was already blushing from his roots to his neck, mouth hanging open in a silent scream. His eyelid started twitching compulsively, and his legs felt like they were going to give way at any moment. He made a noise that sounded like a poor imitation of human language.
They stared at each other for a moment that held an eternity, while other hotel guests shot them puzzled glances and walked past.
England was the first to take a step, lurching forward as if his shoes contained heavy weights. He took another step, and then another, and was soon rushing stiffly for the door, without a single glance back. Every visible inch of skin was still heated and flushed. America watched through the glass, frozen to the spot, as he got into a waiting taxi and drove off.
Reply
He had two choices. He could either go to the meeting, hand over the paper and pray that he wouldn’t be forced to acknowledge England’s existence in any way, or he could find the nearest closet and hide in it forever.
Somehow, against everything his mind was screaming at him, he chose the former - even knowing that he could never look his ally in the face again, and that he would have to sit there for hours knowing that England’s come was still inside him.
He just had to wait for his feet to unglue themselves from the ground.
-----
In the back of an unmarked van parked inconspicuously across the street, three figures huddled around a glowing monitor. A set of speakers crackled softly.
“Glad I entertain you so much, mister Judgmental Asshole,” said the man on the screen, just before the lights went out.
After a long stretch of silence, Hungary turned to her companions. France was grinning like a maniac, and Japan was shielding his face, leaving just enough space to peek between his fingers.
The plan had not gone exactly as they had anticipated.
“So…that was weird,” she said, interrupting the quiet.
France grunted indifferently, still smirking at the screen.
Japan didn’t say anything.
“At least it worked. Kind of.”
France grunted appreciatively, still smirking at the screen.
Japan didn’t say anything.
She leaned forward and turned off the central recording device. A blissful grin spread across her face as she watching the red light blink and fade out.
Oh, the wonders of technology.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Would love to read something more!! Oh goodness the following days would be so awkward, especially for America I believe. I find it oddly satisfying that the one to be on the receiving end was Alfred precisely. Because he seemed to have the upper-hand with all his witty comebacks, but still is the one who allowed England to take him *drools a bit*
SO MOAR!!! Epilogue with And then What? pls!! Serves the silly boys right to belately realize what good chemistry they have (at least in the bedroom LOL) If this would take them to start love-hate dates I wound't complain XDDDD
Reply
Reply
Very cleverly done! Anon, I'm grinning from ear to ear. And, er, it was hot, too. Thank you! SO MUCH, SERIOUSLY.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Oh my god, I love America's orgasm line XDDD
I love how you have them having ridiculously hot sex while having a totally ordinary argument XDD
Terrific, A+, quality entertainment 8DDDDDDD
Reply
AND HOLY SHIT, FUCK YEAH TOP!ENGLAND <3<3<3<3<3
Reply
Top!England hell yes, that was damn hot!!
Write more pretty please!! They've just GOT TO TALK IT OUT!! Oh gosh England would be so damn embarrassed instead of being smug, I can see it so perfectly, and then they would start suspecting at least of France LOL LOL
Please come back dear writer!anon!!!!!
Reply
Reply
Reply
*glimmer of hope*
I absolutely adored this, there's little else to say. England topping, snarky, snappy arguments between hot sex... utterly marvelous.
Reply
Leave a comment