Past-Part Fills Part 7
!!! Discussion about moving the kink meme to Dreamwidth!!!
Past-Part Fills Part Seven
Fills from past parts can go here!
Fills from the current part (part 22) MUST go in that part's post until it is full.
Link to the original request (and if an ongoing fill, any previous chapters/sections).
Don't forget to link your new fill at the fill ( Read more... )
Okay, enough chitchat from me, just wanted to mention that while no one is hurt, there are mentions of a house fire . Not sure if that's a trigger, but thought I would mention it anyway.
Okay, back to story.
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England relaxed on the couch in a surprisingly clean living room as he read his book. America said he’d wanted to finish some paperwork before the fireworks that night, and who was England to discourage America from doing any serious work?
Britannia, America’s Scottish Fold, was purring contentedly on England’s lap as he absently stroked the animal. Personally, England was still mystified at how America was able to maintain a harmonious household with a cat, a nation, and an alien from outer space under the same roof. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised; America would never have turned away a friend in need (even if said friend wasn’t even from Earth ), and America always had had a way with animals, even when he was a little colony.
England still remembered the multitude of rabbits that America insisted on keeping with him in the first house England built for them. The poor little things unfortunately hadn’t survived that first winter after England’s arrival, and England had returned to the colonies to find America in tears from both hunger and grief. To this day, and he never shared his suspicions with America, but England suspected that the personification of the native lands, America’s mother, was responsible for the land’s rebellion against the English colonists in those early years. France ran into similar trouble, albeit not as bad as England. But Canada’s bear (contrary to popular opinion, England did remember his other son’s country name. The human name however was a different story), had given France a world of grief at first. That was some of the consolation England got out of the whole mess.
Tony however was an anomaly that he would never understand. America said that Tony had crash-landed in Roswell, New Mexico sometime in the 1950s, and England did not walk away with a favorable impression of the alien. Of course, interactions between the two hadn’t become necessary until after England and America resolved the issues standing between the two of them, and England became a frequent visitor to the American’s home.
That was when the problems started.
But for the most part, England studiously ignored the alien and its pranks in favor of paying attention to America. But this time around, he hadn’t seen America in a long time, and didn’t want to have to constantly watch his back for any potential ambushes (it was his old pirate senses that saved his pride last time he visited). So he’d cooked breakfast that morning, putting extra effort into not burning so badly that even America wouldn’t eat it, but not perfect enough to not get his threat properly across to Tony.
And if the alien’s reaction after breakfast wasn’t enough, England was confident that threat he made after the meal before Tony left did the trick.
Britannia stretched on his lap, claws extending briefly before the cat nestled down again. The cat had been quite the bed companion last night, although England was pretty sure that America had been a little put out that the cat was taking up most of the cuddling space. Still, the scene had been cute this morning, waking up to find America snuggled up against him with Britannia comfortably nestled between the two nations.
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He looked up from his book and the cat to see America standing there, a light of mischief in those blue eyes behind those glasses and a smirk on his face. He was still wearing his dress shirt and pants, which he’d changed into after breakfast out of habit, but the top two buttons on his shirt were undone. England raised a bushy eyebrow as he lowered his book, Britannia taking the hint and jumping off his lap. America meanwhile smirked as he settled down on England's lap, startling the older nation. "I thought you had paperwork to finish, love," he said as he set aside his book.
America sighed theatrically as he made himself comfortable, resting his knees on either side of England's waist. "Yeah, I do, but then I realized what a poor host I was, neglecting my guest. So I decided to compromise. I did some work," here he rested his forehead against England's, "and now I want your full, undivided attention," he whispered before leaning forward and kissing England, a soft chaste kiss that brushed lightly against the older nation's lips
Or at least that was probably what America had in mind, but England's hand snaked around the American's neck and tangled itself in America's soft blond hair before gently forcing America to come closer. England meanwhile straightened to meet America, and silently reveled in the newfound slight increase of pressure. A small nip caused America's mouth to open in surprise, and England did not hesitate to take advantage of this.
America let out a soft moan when their tongues brushed languidly against each other, the sound creating a slight vibration that traveled pleasantly down England's spine. "Oh, God, I forgot how much I missed this, missed you," America whispered as he tried to catch his breath after they parted. "I wish we can see each other more often."
"We can, love, it's certainly easier nowadays for me to travel, A-America..." England's words were cut off as America began brushing his lips and teeth against England's throat.
He could feel America's smile against his throat before the younger nation continued suckling down his throat to his collarbone. " America...not here...the...your do..." England's concerns about the glass sliding doors went out the window when America's tongue slid down past his collarbone and down past the shirt collar.
"Shh, you're talking too much, Artie. Just close your eyes and feel . No talking," America said, his lips barely brushing against England's suddenly sensitized skin as his fingers started undoing the top of the older nation's shirt.
“One moment, America, there seems to be a slight problemmpf!” England’s words disappeared as America kissed him.
England’s patience, already worn thin, snapped. Gripping America’s shoulders, he used his deceptive strength to force a surprised America back down onto the couch, earning a grunt that turned into a snicker from the American. England settled his knees on either side of America’s waist before leaning down predatorily. “And here I was all cranky ‘cause you said no last night,” he teased as England playfully (and lightly) smacked the side of his head.
“Traffic was awful and I got here later than I’d planned,” England grumbled but leaned down anyway to kiss America lightly on the nose.
“Yeah, and then you were too tired to do anything when you finally got here except grumble at me and go to bed with no snuggling,” America said, still smirking.
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“Eleven hours is still better than eleven weeks,” America muttered with a slight scowl, and England sighed, knowing he was thinking of back during his colonial days, when the only way to get between Europe and North America was by ship. The trip itself was long enough, and England’s stay away had been even longer.
“None of that now, understand?” England finally said, smiling when America lost concentration and the scowl abruptly disappeared. “That’s in the past, where it belongs. I can get to you more easily now.”
“I know, I know. Sometimes, I wish that we didn’t have so much work so I could see you more often,” America mumbled, and England felt his body relax underneath him.
“Well, I’m here now so don’t worry about things like that,” England whispered before leaning forward to kiss him lightly on the nose, earning a chuckle from the American. England let all his worries and concerns from the day start to melt away as he began to unbutton the shirt more and listen to the breathy sounds coming from the American’s mouth. Dear Lord, he had been neglecting his lover for so long…
Dweep! Dweep! Dweep!
But, as everything with America, it didn’t matter how strong England was. The outcome was always the same.
“FIRE!” America bellowed, shooting up so fast that he and England knocked heads together and the Englishman found himself tumbling off the couch and onto the floor, his already-sore head narrowly missing the glass-topped coffee table. He struggled to sit up to find that America had vaulted over the couch and was already running for his study. England moved his hand to get back up, touching something soft with a cord-like center…
Rrrawor!
A tan-and-white bullet shot out from its hiding place under the couch, its tail fully puffed up as it disappeared around the corner. A loud thump and America’s yelp told England that cat and Nation had collided somewhere down the hall, and the Nation had miserably lost the contest. The fire alarms kept ringing as America stumbled back into the room, reminding England of a panicking chicken. “America!” England shouted, catching America’s shirt collar. “Calm down,” he said once he was sure that America was paying attention to him. “You can’t think straight in an emergency if you panic like that. Fire extinguisher. Where is it?”
“Kitchen and study,” America recited, and then darted off toward the kitchen while England hurried to the study.
America’s study was something that a museum curator would be insanely jealous of. It held relics as far back as his colonial days all the way to the present, everything from photographs, small momentos to old flags, spurs, and even what looked suspiciously like a riding crop. England located the fire extinguisher wedged between the old Revolutionary flag and two wooden toy soldiers (he still had those?), and then eased it out of its glass case. Then he started walking toward the study door.
The moment he got there however, there was a muffled boom that shook the old house slightly.
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It was locked.
What???
England tried the doorknob again, but once again found it to be locked. “America!” he shouted again, but bit back a sigh of frustration when he realized that the study was probably too far from the kitchen for it to make much of a difference.
Sighing, and mentally reminding himself to pay America for the damage he was about to incur, England took a few steps back before charging at the study door.
Which was somehow already open by the time England reached it.
Crash!
It took England a few seconds to process what had happened, and then remembered that the house was on fire as the alarms pierced through the fog that was in England’s brain. Then he remembered that America was in the kitchen, possibly unconscious or even dead (as temporary as death was for them, it was still disorienting to wake up back in the heart of the capital city, and England still had a heart attack whenever he found America dead, always worried that America’s number was up), and then staggered to his knees while reaching for the dropped fire extinguisher.
The smoke had yet to reach this part of the house, but England was still careful as he made his way to the kitchen. He didn’t know where Tony was but at the moment he couldn’t care less. Britannia probably used the cat door either at the front or back door, so it was just America that needed recovery.
“America!”
“England!?”
Smack
“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry,” America chanted as he caught England before the island nation could fall. “Fire department’s on the way, stupid kitchen caught fire. You weren’t cooking or anything, were you?”
England smacked him across the side of the head. “Of course not you idiot! And my cooking does not start house fires!”
America couldn’t help it; he grinned broadly. “So you’re saying if I took a peek at the fire department’s records in your area, I wouldn’t see your address anywhere ?”
“Git!” England swiped at America again, who only started laughing hard.
“C’mon, Tony’s already outside with Britannia,” America said between laughs, trying his honest best to stifle his laughter.
The two nations (finally) made it out more or less intact; England’s pride had taken a couple more hits as America made a few more jabs at his cooking abilities. America was not as upset about this as England would have thought; apparently each room door was lined with a fireproof seal that put some effort in keeping the fire from spreading before the fire department arrived. Also the Richmond Fire Department was apparently used to answering calls from this particular address, having handled everything from firework mishaps to barbecue experiments in the last ten years.
“Aren’t fireworks illegal here anyway?” England asked when America finished talking.
America shrugged. “I should probably check. All the states have different rules about them, I just figure that I’m justified since I’m the United States of America anyway.”
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“C’mon, it’s not like they don’t smuggle fireworks across state borders anyway,” America grumbled.
Tony was perched delicately on the patio table, wearing white sneakers, blue shorts, a red-and-white striped shirt, and a black Florida Marlins cap. He was holding onto a very upset Britannia, whose body fur was still puffed up. England narrowed his eyes slightly at the alien; it was looking too innocently back.
That or England was just overreacting.
“Y’know, you took your time getting back with the fire extinguisher. Did you have a hard time finding it?” America asked; they could both hear the fire engine sirens approaching.
“No, I found it all right. It’s just that your study door first locked itself when I tried to leave, and then was miraculously opened when I was about to break the door down,” England said, watching Tony carefully out of his peripheral vision.
“Huh, that’s weird. I’ve never had that problem before,” America remarked, frowning slightly. He shrugged, and then grimaced when they heard the fire engines arrive. “My handler is going to freak when she hears about this…”
“Shouldn’t we head around to the front so that they don’t go in looking for us?” England asked, frowning. Tony was taking this fiery development very calmly, as was America.
“Nah, they know I’ll be out back. Besides, I can’t let them see Tony,” America said, shrugging. He sat down at one of the patio chairs and gestured for England to sit as well. “Like I said, we’ve got this routine down pat.”
“That’s what worries me,” England said. “You’re taking this too calmly.”
“Well, like you said. I can’t think straight if I panic. Simple.”
“Jones!”
The two nations looked up to see a firefighter approaching. America waved and shouted back, “Hey Chief! What’s the damage looking like?”
Chief Robin Mendez was from an old Virginian family that had one hell of a temper in the bloodline, a fact that America unfortunately discovered the hard way a couple years ago. She was a little over five feet, and her dark hair was pulled back in a severe bun that made her appear stricter than she probably was; England couldn’t tell, seeing as he had never met her before.
She eyed America for a moment before sighing. “Mr. Jones, we were able to determine that someone set this fire in the kitchen, and set it up so that the fire would be contained in the kitchen and living room. Thankfully, we were able to stop it before it got nasty. There was something unrecognizable in the oven that might have been food at one point in its life, but we think that the fire started there.”
Someone set the fire?
England’s eyes were drawn to Tony, who was humming to himself as he innocently petted the still-riled cat while America talked to the fire chief. The timing was either just a coincidence, or Tony was retaliating for breakfast that morning.
Considering Tony’s general attitude toward him, England was fully prepared to bet the latter.
England sighed. He had been hoping for a relaxing weekend with America. But the little alien seemed intent on making things difficult for him, so England was going to simply react with his customary response whenever threatened.
War.
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dun dun dunnn! Okay, I won't subject you to my cheesiness. ANYWAY, sorry about the delay on this, I was without Internet for a while and then I was working on a few other Hetalia projects (2 for here, a few elsewhere)
If anyone's curious, fireworks are illegal in Virginia.
I also realized I screwed up the link to the original prompt, so hopefully this works:
http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/4567.html?thread=5172695#t5172695
Until next time!
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England's 'customary response' is war. I like that. It's very fitting. I can't wait to see what he does now.
This randomFlorida!anon would like to thank you for the Marlins reference, even though the are playing abysmally right now.
I love this fill so much.
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I'm glad you love this fill. I've got big stuff planned for the end, where the trump cards come into play ;)
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