A Perfect World 3a/?
anonymous
March 2 2011, 22:28:58 UTC
“Man.” A smirk tugged at America's lips. “Some cowboy rode it hard tonight! That's my Frenchy brother.”
Canada just couldn't bring himself to smile and agree, even if that would make everything a thousand times easier (and piss Russia off, which may or may not be a good idea). He just stared at the obnoxiously patterned carpet in weary shame. Even avoiding eye contact, he could still see America's expression fall. As worry replaced amusement, Canada felt the first stab of guilt.
“Ah geez, I'm sorry. I just thought that... But what happened? Did... wait...” America's fingers tilted Canada's chin up. “This wouldn't have anything to do with Russia, would it?”
Canada swallowed, eyes widening.
“He hurried past not long ago,” America said, his own eyes narrowing.
There it was. The whole reason they had started their affair months ago. Canada just wanted to sink into the floor and die at the horrified, heartbroken expression on his twin's face. “I...”
“Oh god.” America abruptly enveloped Canada in a tight hug, irritating the damage Russia had done to his body and intensifying the knife of guilt in his chest. Don't cry, Canada thought as he hung limply in his brother's arms. If you cry, America, I might just kill myself.
“I'll kill him,” America said hoarsely as he pulled away. Sure enough, his eyes shone with unshed tears, and the knife twisted a little more. His intensity was startling; sometimes Canada forgot that Russia wasn't the only one changed in recent years, wasn't the only one whose sanity had started to crack. America was still the same dork who laughingly announced ridiculous suggestions to everyone's annoyance at peacetime or war meetings, but with Russia involved, as well as his family... “I'll kill him... I'm going to nuke him back to the st-no, there won't be enough left for there to be a stone age. I don't care if he retaliates, I'll-”
“Stop!” Canada backed away, shaking his head. “This was consensual!” He didn't want Russia or America to be genuinely hurt! He didn't want actual war to come from this.
America slowly blinked, staring at Canada in bafflement. “What?”
“You assumed he raped me, right? He didn't, it was consensual.”
“You...”
“We've been sleeping together for months.” Canada bit his lip. Well, there it was. He squirmed as the color drained from America's face. He really, truly did not want to hurt his brother (that annoying voice in the back of his head reminded him of his lust-spawned desire to deliver America to his enemy in exchange for a little affection). But that was the point, wasn't it? That was the goal. Maybe not Canada's personal goal, but it was part of the package deal.
“No,” America said, shaking his head for emphasis. “You wouldn't. He coerced you, right?”
“He didn't,” Canada said. “He asked and I said yes.”
“Magic?”
“You don't believe in magic.”
“You really...” America swallowed. “You really wanted to?”
Canada nodded. “Nobody else would. I haven't had a lover in years.”
“But... how could you?” The horror had been replaced by betrayal. Canada wished the twisting knife in his heart would finish him off already. “With him!”
“I told you. Nobody else would,” Canada mumbled. “I'm not siding with him, if that's what you're worried about. We're just fucking.”
“How could you!”
Canada's gaze returned to the carpet. “It's just sex,” he said again.
“With him!” Canada could see his brother's body tense. “With... Are you that ignorant?”
Ignorant? Canada frowned, meeting America's eyes again. “No. I can fuck who I want.”
“A communist!”
“Does everything have to be politics?” Even as Canada lied through his teeth, even as his heart was torn by the terror his brother was feeling for him, Canada couldn't help but start to feel a little annoyed. “He's a warm body with a nice ass and a nice cock who welcomes me to his bed.”
“We're nations! Of course everything has to be politics! What were you thinking?”
The annoyance grew. “That I'm a grown nation and can do what I want.”
America shook his head again, and Canada tried to ignore the fact that he looked more worried than angry. “You can't. Not with him.”
A Perfect World 3b/?
anonymous
March 2 2011, 22:30:18 UTC
“I can so,” Canada said, pretending he didn't sound like a rebellious child.
“Canada, please...”
Canada slumped, resolve cracking. What was there for him to be angry about? This was the point. America was supposed to become upset.
“I forbid you.”
“What?” Canada blinked. He couldn't have heard that right.
“You heard me. You can't sleep with Russia anymore.” America was trying desperately to make it sound more like a command than a plea.
Canada could only stare at him. “You... forbid?” He shook his head. The pain of the knife fell away.
“I... Canada, just-”
“You can't tell me what to do!”
“I can when it comes to something like this!”
“I'm not your fucking colony!” Ignoring the pains in his body, Canada fled past America, his emotions a jumble of shame and rage. His feet led him in the direction of Russia's hotel room without even consulting with his brain. The fact that he knew America would follow him just added to the determination when he hesitated at the door.
They had each other's keys. Canada let himself in.
Russia was sitting on the bed, bare-chested, wearing only his pants and boots. He gave Canada a startled look as the door slammed shut. “Yes?”
“America.” Canada took a deep breath. “I ran into America. He knows about us.”
“Ah.” His lips curled into a smile. “Was he suitably horrified?”
“I'll say. He threatened to nuke you into nothing regardless of the consequences, until I assured him it wasn't rape.” Canada's eyes slid shut. “Then he told me to stop sleeping with you. Commanded me.”
“Did he, now? What did you say?”
“That he can't tell me what to do.” Canada settled onto his knees in front of Russia, reaching out to unbutton his pants. Russia shifted, smile widening as he watched the young nation furiously open his pants and pull his cock out. It was already growing hard again, and Canada leaned in to give it a lick from root to tip, feeling it stiffen and grow in his hands. What were you thinking? America's voice said in his head. I forbid you. It made his face burn. And it didn't help at all that America was right about Russia's reasons for sleeping with Canada, was right to be concerned. Was right about everything. Canada was the true villain in the scenario, what right did he have to be pissed?
But he didn't stop. Canada sucked Russia's cockhead into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Above him, Russia groaned, and Canada couldn't help but feel pleased. This was much different than just being fucked by the other nation. He was pleasuring him, like a lover would. He took Russia in deeper, into his throat. Then drew back again, suckling gently as he went.
“None of that,” Russia grunted, gripping Canada by the hair. “Hard.”
Oh well. Canada swallowed Russia down again, sucking hard. Why, his brain asked, was it okay when Russia told him what to do, but not his poor worried brother? Canada squashed the thought, focusing on bobbing his head along Russia cock, working him with intense suckling that made his jaw and throat sore.
It didn't particularly surprise him when he heard the door open; he didn't even wonder how his brother had opened the locked door. Canada didn't stop, even as he felt America's presence, felt his eyes on him as he knelt there, Russia's cock in his mouth. Russia, for his part, gave a thrust of his hips, startling Canada and making him want to gag.
There was only silence behind him, until finally, America's presence was gone and the door slammed shut.
“That was good...” Russia murmured. “So good.” He continued on in his own language, fingers tightening in Canada's hair, holding his head immobile. Russia started thrusting with abandon, just as harshly as he normally did. Canada's eyes widened as his mouth and throat were abused by the strong thrusts of the large cock, as it threatened to choke him. He whimpered in pain and gagged, but did not wish for Russia to stop. Russia was happy with him. Russia was taking him roughly now because he wanted him.
As semen slipped down Canada's bruised throat, tears spilled from his eyes, and he told himself that of course they were from happiness.
Re: A Perfect World 3b/?
anonymous
March 3 2011, 00:39:46 UTC
Holy shit anon, this is amazing!! It's so hot! The emotions in it, too, just... dgkhjfjf.
I wish I could give you a better review to express just how much I love this, but I'm tired and using this to relax from school. orz Just know that this is awesome and amazing and I stalk like this like there's no tomorrow.
Re: A Perfect World 3b/?
anonymous
March 3 2011, 11:04:10 UTC
I'm so happy to see an update. Yet this anon is finding out that she seems to enjoy poor abused Canada way more than she first thought. I'm feeling so anti-patriotic right now but I don't care!
Still, oh dear, I also feel sad for America he probably feels betrayed quite a lot right now. Or surrounded by communism or something. Hopefully he won't do anything drastic to retaliate.
Canada just couldn't bring himself to smile and agree, even if that would make everything a thousand times easier (and piss Russia off, which may or may not be a good idea). He just stared at the obnoxiously patterned carpet in weary shame. Even avoiding eye contact, he could still see America's expression fall. As worry replaced amusement, Canada felt the first stab of guilt.
“Ah geez, I'm sorry. I just thought that... But what happened? Did... wait...” America's fingers tilted Canada's chin up. “This wouldn't have anything to do with Russia, would it?”
Canada swallowed, eyes widening.
“He hurried past not long ago,” America said, his own eyes narrowing.
There it was. The whole reason they had started their affair months ago. Canada just wanted to sink into the floor and die at the horrified, heartbroken expression on his twin's face. “I...”
“Oh god.” America abruptly enveloped Canada in a tight hug, irritating the damage Russia had done to his body and intensifying the knife of guilt in his chest. Don't cry, Canada thought as he hung limply in his brother's arms. If you cry, America, I might just kill myself.
“I'll kill him,” America said hoarsely as he pulled away. Sure enough, his eyes shone with unshed tears, and the knife twisted a little more. His intensity was startling; sometimes Canada forgot that Russia wasn't the only one changed in recent years, wasn't the only one whose sanity had started to crack. America was still the same dork who laughingly announced ridiculous suggestions to everyone's annoyance at peacetime or war meetings, but with Russia involved, as well as his family... “I'll kill him... I'm going to nuke him back to the st-no, there won't be enough left for there to be a stone age. I don't care if he retaliates, I'll-”
“Stop!” Canada backed away, shaking his head. “This was consensual!” He didn't want Russia or America to be genuinely hurt! He didn't want actual war to come from this.
America slowly blinked, staring at Canada in bafflement. “What?”
“You assumed he raped me, right? He didn't, it was consensual.”
“You...”
“We've been sleeping together for months.” Canada bit his lip. Well, there it was. He squirmed as the color drained from America's face. He really, truly did not want to hurt his brother (that annoying voice in the back of his head reminded him of his lust-spawned desire to deliver America to his enemy in exchange for a little affection). But that was the point, wasn't it? That was the goal. Maybe not Canada's personal goal, but it was part of the package deal.
“No,” America said, shaking his head for emphasis. “You wouldn't. He coerced you, right?”
“He didn't,” Canada said. “He asked and I said yes.”
“Magic?”
“You don't believe in magic.”
“You really...” America swallowed. “You really wanted to?”
Canada nodded. “Nobody else would. I haven't had a lover in years.”
“But... how could you?” The horror had been replaced by betrayal. Canada wished the twisting knife in his heart would finish him off already. “With him!”
“I told you. Nobody else would,” Canada mumbled. “I'm not siding with him, if that's what you're worried about. We're just fucking.”
“How could you!”
Canada's gaze returned to the carpet. “It's just sex,” he said again.
“With him!” Canada could see his brother's body tense. “With... Are you that ignorant?”
Ignorant? Canada frowned, meeting America's eyes again. “No. I can fuck who I want.”
“A communist!”
“Does everything have to be politics?” Even as Canada lied through his teeth, even as his heart was torn by the terror his brother was feeling for him, Canada couldn't help but start to feel a little annoyed. “He's a warm body with a nice ass and a nice cock who welcomes me to his bed.”
“We're nations! Of course everything has to be politics! What were you thinking?”
The annoyance grew. “That I'm a grown nation and can do what I want.”
America shook his head again, and Canada tried to ignore the fact that he looked more worried than angry. “You can't. Not with him.”
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“Canada, please...”
Canada slumped, resolve cracking. What was there for him to be angry about? This was the point. America was supposed to become upset.
“I forbid you.”
“What?” Canada blinked. He couldn't have heard that right.
“You heard me. You can't sleep with Russia anymore.” America was trying desperately to make it sound more like a command than a plea.
Canada could only stare at him. “You... forbid?” He shook his head. The pain of the knife fell away.
“I... Canada, just-”
“You can't tell me what to do!”
“I can when it comes to something like this!”
“I'm not your fucking colony!” Ignoring the pains in his body, Canada fled past America, his emotions a jumble of shame and rage. His feet led him in the direction of Russia's hotel room without even consulting with his brain. The fact that he knew America would follow him just added to the determination when he hesitated at the door.
They had each other's keys. Canada let himself in.
Russia was sitting on the bed, bare-chested, wearing only his pants and boots. He gave Canada a startled look as the door slammed shut. “Yes?”
“America.” Canada took a deep breath. “I ran into America. He knows about us.”
“Ah.” His lips curled into a smile. “Was he suitably horrified?”
“I'll say. He threatened to nuke you into nothing regardless of the consequences, until I assured him it wasn't rape.” Canada's eyes slid shut. “Then he told me to stop sleeping with you. Commanded me.”
“Did he, now? What did you say?”
“That he can't tell me what to do.” Canada settled onto his knees in front of Russia, reaching out to unbutton his pants. Russia shifted, smile widening as he watched the young nation furiously open his pants and pull his cock out. It was already growing hard again, and Canada leaned in to give it a lick from root to tip, feeling it stiffen and grow in his hands. What were you thinking? America's voice said in his head. I forbid you. It made his face burn. And it didn't help at all that America was right about Russia's reasons for sleeping with Canada, was right to be concerned. Was right about everything. Canada was the true villain in the scenario, what right did he have to be pissed?
But he didn't stop. Canada sucked Russia's cockhead into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Above him, Russia groaned, and Canada couldn't help but feel pleased. This was much different than just being fucked by the other nation. He was pleasuring him, like a lover would. He took Russia in deeper, into his throat. Then drew back again, suckling gently as he went.
“None of that,” Russia grunted, gripping Canada by the hair. “Hard.”
Oh well. Canada swallowed Russia down again, sucking hard. Why, his brain asked, was it okay when Russia told him what to do, but not his poor worried brother? Canada squashed the thought, focusing on bobbing his head along Russia cock, working him with intense suckling that made his jaw and throat sore.
It didn't particularly surprise him when he heard the door open; he didn't even wonder how his brother had opened the locked door. Canada didn't stop, even as he felt America's presence, felt his eyes on him as he knelt there, Russia's cock in his mouth. Russia, for his part, gave a thrust of his hips, startling Canada and making him want to gag.
There was only silence behind him, until finally, America's presence was gone and the door slammed shut.
“That was good...” Russia murmured. “So good.” He continued on in his own language, fingers tightening in Canada's hair, holding his head immobile. Russia started thrusting with abandon, just as harshly as he normally did. Canada's eyes widened as his mouth and throat were abused by the strong thrusts of the large cock, as it threatened to choke him. He whimpered in pain and gagged, but did not wish for Russia to stop. Russia was happy with him. Russia was taking him roughly now because he wanted him.
As semen slipped down Canada's bruised throat, tears spilled from his eyes, and he told himself that of course they were from happiness.
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I wish I could give you a better review to express just how much I love this, but I'm tired and using this to relax from school. orz Just know that this is awesome and amazing and I stalk like this like there's no tomorrow.
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Still, oh dear, I also feel sad for America he probably feels betrayed quite a lot right now. Or surrounded by communism or something. Hopefully he won't do anything drastic to retaliate.
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