fill from part 2: To Catch a Country [7]
anonymous
April 26 2009, 21:32:38 UTC
Latvia stands so still his outline quivers. “There are cameras all over this room,” he says, his voice low, perhaps to avoid getting picked up by microphones, “if you so much as move-”
“So sorry, one moment,” France says. He stands up again, and this time pulling a nervous Spain up with him. “May I introduce Señor Age Of Consent At Thirteen? And of course Mister Sex Tape Scandal?” he says with a wink at England (“Do not blithely drag me into this!”). “And myself, Monsieur Bring It On. Boys are best! Did you say something about cameras? How exciting.”
“H-Hungary-?” Latvia tries, now searching out the hidden cameras.
“I have a feeling your camerawomen is going to be a little preoccupied with her work for awhile,” says France innocently, and so smoothly it seems orchestrated he and Spain make their move around the table.
Latvia shies away, so focused on the dangers from the front he forgets about the phonebooks he’s standing on. He stumbles back, falling, and for whatever reason doesn’t seem relieved when France catches him. In fact, the shaking intensifies. Latvia presses his hand against France’s chest trying to push him away. But by then his legs are caught by Spain, effectively immobilizing him.
“Oh Latvia, I think I finally understand all this,” Spain says, snuggling firmly up against Latvia’s other side and easing down his body as France moves up. “You didn’t have to send fake emails to get us to come here like this. You could have just asked…”
The two nations framing him can feel Latvia tenses. “But… but that-that’s… it’s not why I…why I sent the emails- that’s not why I did it!” He looks around France and tries as a last effort to reach Russia’s pipe, brushing it with his fingertips.
France pulls Latvia’s hand back and kisses the wrist. The pipe clatters to the floor. “Ah, now,” he says, turning Latvia’s jaw and continuing the kisses onto Latvia’s neck. “Let’s play nice this first time, okay?”
England squirms in his chair as Latvia’s eyes flutter closed. “What. Do you think. You are doing.”
France makes a point to look England in the eye as he tugs up Latvia’s shirt, exposing skin on Latvia’s panting stomach for Spain to run his hands over and explore with his tongue. England and Latvia shudder at the same time. “Why don’t you come?” France says with a wink and adds, a little more seriously, “There’s room for one more, I’m sure.”
England manages through a clenched jaw: “He’s fifteen.”
“Do you think you could be capable of pretending for half an hour you aren’t laughably repressed? He’s above the age of consent for everyone else-”
“He’s not consenting!”
“-Oh, is this where I left that? Da, I think I remember now…”
Everyone turns at once. They gape at Russia suddenly in the room, picking up his faucet pipe from the floor. And Russia stands up and looks back and smiles, waving the pipe to show them.
“How-how did you get in?” France asks, glaring and clutching the suddenly limp Latvia to himself possessively. “This is a private party, you know. Perverted old pedo-predators by email or chat invite only.”
“I came to an agreement with Switzerland, who was guarding the door outside,” Russia says. “He was very understanding. I am a neutral party in this after all, I will be out of your hair as soon as I recover what belongs to me.”
“It bothers me a little,” England says, “how you weren’t looking at your faucet when you say that.”
fill from part 2: To Catch a Country [8]
anonymous
April 26 2009, 22:50:32 UTC
“I’m still a little curious how you got in, Russia,” Spain says, although perfectly amiable. “We didn’t even hear the door open-” A sharp crack, and the front door bursts open. “-like that. Who’s there now?” They peer at the door, and the dark shape occupying the doorway.
“You son of a whore piece of shit motherbitch jackass tomato bastard!”
Spain’s face lights up and he turns his head towards the sound. “Romano! Mi cielo, is that you? Oh, you came for me! I knew you wou-ow!” He flinches and waters from the eyes after Romano’s well-aimed kick to his head.
“You bastard, you got fooled into going on this show, but then you practically rape the host? What is wrong with you, damn it?” Spain blinks. “I-I-but he’s legal!”
“Ugh, you’re hopeless!” Romano rolls his eyes and seizes Spain by the back of his shirt collar, proceeding to drag him out of the room. “It’s impossible to get things through your head! Come on, don’t make me carry you-hey, watch it, dickhead!” Romano snaps at the door, as a figure runs past him through the entryway.
“Someone should have a revolving door put in,” Russia comments pleasantly, and his face turns only slightly stony as America bounces into the room with poorly-restrained glee.
“It’s official,” America announces to the room at large, “I’m marrying my TiVo! How I survived all those years without it I don’t even know.” He makes sure he’s standing squarely in front of Russia and waves into the ceiling. “Hello DVD-burning party!”
France chuckles and smiles back at England. “I believe this means I win the bet?”
England’s face turns white. “DVD-burning party?”
America turns to him with more of the same happiness. “Oh, yeah I haven’t told you guys yet! So, anyway, I was sitting at home watching my Next Top Model and Star Trek reruns-but that’s not important. What is important is that my TiVo was like, Hey America, look at this right now it’s amazing! And I’m all, What is it TiVo, what’s so amazing? and it’s you guys and this thing! Good job… you,” America says, smiling at Latvia.
England sneers. “You have no idea what his name is, do you.”
America takes a deep breath and continues in a more normal speaking tempo. “Anyway, I invited over everyone and we’re having a DVD burning party. We already posted it on YouTube and I’m pretty sure it has like twelve million hits already, and you should definitely come over England because your face when he called you a dirty old man is the funniest thing.”
England tries to protest, namely by hunkering down in his chair, but America just picks the chair up to carry him out. “Come on, England, don’t be such a killjoy.” England curses at him all the way to put him down, and France laughs at the spectacle, at least until he realizes his hands are empty and everyone is gone and he’s all alone how did that happen and-
He searches, confused, but Russia and Latvia are indeed both gone.
France sinks to the floor, his hands limp at his sides. “I think I’m going to cry,” he says aloud, because he’s sure the cameras are still rolling, unless Hungary destroyed them in a fit of frustration. He can sympathize right now. Sometimes it’s as if the universe just doesn’t want him to have sex.
It takes several seconds, but at last he hears it: footsteps across the cold floor, echoing in the abandoned warehouse walls. He lowers his chin and smiles into his chest when they come into the light. “So, you got away,” he says, not really a question.
“I only have a few minutes,” Latvia says, not really an answer.
To Catch a Country [9/9]
anonymous
April 26 2009, 22:57:12 UTC
France remains on the floor, but spreads his knees casually and leans back so the front of his pants stretch taunt across him. Latvia doesn’t look down like France wants him to, but his face glows with a delightful little blush. It makes France’s mouth water.
“I was wondering,” France says. “If Romano submitted Spain’s name to you for light-hearted revenge, and America probably sent in England’s for the laughs, who suggested me for this little predator police venture of yours?”
France is already staring at Latvia’s neck, so he sees when Latvia gulps. “I… I did,” Latvia says.
“You?”
“F-for those things you did at Christmas.” Latvia’s eyes widen when France gives him a blank look. “You don’t remember. I have… nightmares about roses and you don’t remember!”
With one of those lightning-fast moves he’s been known to pull off when properly motivated, France is off the floor and holding Latvia’s head to his chest in a matter of seconds. “There, there,” he says. “I was a little drunk. Tell me what’s really bothering you. Is it that you are resentful because you think there was not enough time between us?”
Latvia tries to push him off. “I’m not bitter, you just… shouldn’t be allowed… to… do whatever you…” The energy behind his sentence dies as France lifts his chin and brushes his thumb over the trembling bottom lip. “I’m not... I… I will have you arrested if you, if you don’t…”
“I understand,” France says with a mellow grin. The universe appears to be insistent on this no sex thing tonight, but there’s more than one way to cultivate a garden. He can start by planting the idea.
It’s difficult controlling his own sounds of pleasure when he kisses Latvia-the boy is so charming and delicious to kiss-but he does, so he can better hear Latvia’s own whimper. “There’s always next year, non?”
--
FIN~ why so fail, fill? ;_;
pffft America’s TiVo knows about his preoccupation with England rofl.
Not Op but...
anonymous
April 27 2009, 01:09:50 UTC
OH GOD AUTHOR!ANON, this...THIS HERE!!! WAS THE MOST AMAZING FILL I HAVE EVER HAD THE PLEASURE OF READING!
I'm bookmarking/print and laminating this thing for future reads, immediately! I was smiling like an idiot throughout the entire thing. (my roommate now thinks I'm i crazy weirdo for screaming "OH FRANCE" every two second, thanks. XD) No lie anon, I officially love you unconditionally. Please take everything i have because it's not enough.
Your characterization of France's antics was just so ridiculously in character for him that i was left in awe after reading this fill.
Not to mention England's blatant denial of his pedobear tendencies, despite the OVERWHELMING amounts of proof had me loling constantly. (it's alright England we all understand *pat pat* )
My favorite line? "What is important is that my TiVo was like, Hey America, look at this right now it’s amazing! And I’m all, What is it TiVo, what’s so amazing? and it’s you guys and this thing! Good job… you,” America says, smiling at Latvia."
I died, and it's all your wonderful fault anon! I'd heard tivo could do things like that, but just the way you phrased it, so win! I swear I'll be quoting this all day tomorrow, and no one will get it but I'll be so cloud9 that i won't care.
Also about this- "I was sitting at home watching my Next Top Model" Was that pun intended anon!?!? If so your flippin brilliant! I had to stop reading at that part just so i could regain my breath. And then stop again once I'd finished Americas rant.
Re: To Catch a Country [9/9]
anonymous
April 27 2009, 01:15:44 UTC
That was awesome! I loved England's failed attempts at explaining himself, and France and Spain being totally unrepentant. You really developed the story well; I kept wondering what would happen. The ending is just perfect!
Re: To Catch a Country [9/9]
anonymous
April 29 2009, 07:32:50 UTC
dfgjkhkredfhjgjherf this--oh god this whole thing made for one of the best fucking fics on this whole entire kink meme I LOVE IT SO MUCH. I think my favorite line was "May I introduce Señor Age Of Consent At Thirteen?" OH SPAIN. Anon ilu and I wish I could send you cookies or something ;; <33
“So sorry, one moment,” France says. He stands up again, and this time pulling a nervous Spain up with him. “May I introduce Señor Age Of Consent At Thirteen? And of course Mister Sex Tape Scandal?” he says with a wink at England (“Do not blithely drag me into this!”). “And myself, Monsieur Bring It On. Boys are best! Did you say something about cameras? How exciting.”
“H-Hungary-?” Latvia tries, now searching out the hidden cameras.
“I have a feeling your camerawomen is going to be a little preoccupied with her work for awhile,” says France innocently, and so smoothly it seems orchestrated he and Spain make their move around the table.
Latvia shies away, so focused on the dangers from the front he forgets about the phonebooks he’s standing on. He stumbles back, falling, and for whatever reason doesn’t seem relieved when France catches him. In fact, the shaking intensifies. Latvia presses his hand against France’s chest trying to push him away. But by then his legs are caught by Spain, effectively immobilizing him.
“Oh Latvia, I think I finally understand all this,” Spain says, snuggling firmly up against Latvia’s other side and easing down his body as France moves up. “You didn’t have to send fake emails to get us to come here like this. You could have just asked…”
The two nations framing him can feel Latvia tenses. “But… but that-that’s… it’s not why I…why I sent the emails- that’s not why I did it!” He looks around France and tries as a last effort to reach Russia’s pipe, brushing it with his fingertips.
France pulls Latvia’s hand back and kisses the wrist. The pipe clatters to the floor. “Ah, now,” he says, turning Latvia’s jaw and continuing the kisses onto Latvia’s neck. “Let’s play nice this first time, okay?”
England squirms in his chair as Latvia’s eyes flutter closed. “What. Do you think. You are doing.”
France makes a point to look England in the eye as he tugs up Latvia’s shirt, exposing skin on Latvia’s panting stomach for Spain to run his hands over and explore with his tongue. England and Latvia shudder at the same time. “Why don’t you come?” France says with a wink and adds, a little more seriously, “There’s room for one more, I’m sure.”
England manages through a clenched jaw: “He’s fifteen.”
“Do you think you could be capable of pretending for half an hour you aren’t laughably repressed? He’s above the age of consent for everyone else-”
“He’s not consenting!”
“-Oh, is this where I left that? Da, I think I remember now…”
Everyone turns at once. They gape at Russia suddenly in the room, picking up his faucet pipe from the floor. And Russia stands up and looks back and smiles, waving the pipe to show them.
“How-how did you get in?” France asks, glaring and clutching the suddenly limp Latvia to himself possessively. “This is a private party, you know. Perverted old pedo-predators by email or chat invite only.”
“I came to an agreement with Switzerland, who was guarding the door outside,” Russia says. “He was very understanding. I am a neutral party in this after all, I will be out of your hair as soon as I recover what belongs to me.”
“It bothers me a little,” England says, “how you weren’t looking at your faucet when you say that.”
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“You son of a whore piece of shit motherbitch jackass tomato bastard!”
Spain’s face lights up and he turns his head towards the sound. “Romano! Mi cielo, is that you? Oh, you came for me! I knew you wou-ow!” He flinches and waters from the eyes after Romano’s well-aimed kick to his head.
“You bastard, you got fooled into going on this show, but then you practically rape the host? What is wrong with you, damn it?”
Spain blinks. “I-I-but he’s legal!”
“Ugh, you’re hopeless!” Romano rolls his eyes and seizes Spain by the back of his shirt collar, proceeding to drag him out of the room. “It’s impossible to get things through your head! Come on, don’t make me carry you-hey, watch it, dickhead!” Romano snaps at the door, as a figure runs past him through the entryway.
“Someone should have a revolving door put in,” Russia comments pleasantly, and his face turns only slightly stony as America bounces into the room with poorly-restrained glee.
“It’s official,” America announces to the room at large, “I’m marrying my TiVo! How I survived all those years without it I don’t even know.” He makes sure he’s standing squarely in front of Russia and waves into the ceiling. “Hello DVD-burning party!”
France chuckles and smiles back at England. “I believe this means I win the bet?”
England’s face turns white. “DVD-burning party?”
America turns to him with more of the same happiness. “Oh, yeah I haven’t told you guys yet! So, anyway, I was sitting at home watching my Next Top Model and Star Trek reruns-but that’s not important. What is important is that my TiVo was like, Hey America, look at this right now it’s amazing! And I’m all, What is it TiVo, what’s so amazing? and it’s you guys and this thing! Good job… you,” America says, smiling at Latvia.
England sneers. “You have no idea what his name is, do you.”
America takes a deep breath and continues in a more normal speaking tempo. “Anyway, I invited over everyone and we’re having a DVD burning party. We already posted it on YouTube and I’m pretty sure it has like twelve million hits already, and you should definitely come over England because your face when he called you a dirty old man is the funniest thing.”
England tries to protest, namely by hunkering down in his chair, but America just picks the chair up to carry him out. “Come on, England, don’t be such a killjoy.” England curses at him all the way to put him down, and France laughs at the spectacle, at least until he realizes his hands are empty and everyone is gone and he’s all alone how did that happen and-
He searches, confused, but Russia and Latvia are indeed both gone.
France sinks to the floor, his hands limp at his sides. “I think I’m going to cry,” he says aloud, because he’s sure the cameras are still rolling, unless Hungary destroyed them in a fit of frustration. He can sympathize right now. Sometimes it’s as if the universe just doesn’t want him to have sex.
It takes several seconds, but at last he hears it: footsteps across the cold floor, echoing in the abandoned warehouse walls. He lowers his chin and smiles into his chest when they come into the light. “So, you got away,” he says, not really a question.
“I only have a few minutes,” Latvia says, not really an answer.
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“I was wondering,” France says. “If Romano submitted Spain’s name to you for light-hearted revenge, and America probably sent in England’s for the laughs, who suggested me for this little predator police venture of yours?”
France is already staring at Latvia’s neck, so he sees when Latvia gulps. “I… I did,” Latvia says.
“You?”
“F-for those things you did at Christmas.” Latvia’s eyes widen when France gives him a blank look. “You don’t remember. I have… nightmares about roses and you don’t remember!”
With one of those lightning-fast moves he’s been known to pull off when properly motivated, France is off the floor and holding Latvia’s head to his chest in a matter of seconds. “There, there,” he says. “I was a little drunk. Tell me what’s really bothering you. Is it that you are resentful because you think there was not enough time between us?”
Latvia tries to push him off. “I’m not bitter, you just… shouldn’t be allowed… to… do whatever you…” The energy behind his sentence dies as France lifts his chin and brushes his thumb over the trembling bottom lip. “I’m not... I… I will have you arrested if you, if you don’t…”
“I understand,” France says with a mellow grin. The universe appears to be insistent on this no sex thing tonight, but there’s more than one way to cultivate a garden. He can start by planting the idea.
It’s difficult controlling his own sounds of pleasure when he kisses Latvia-the boy is so charming and delicious to kiss-but he does, so he can better hear Latvia’s own whimper. “There’s always next year, non?”
--
FIN~
why so fail, fill? ;_;
pffft America’s TiVo knows about his preoccupation with England rofl.
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I'm bookmarking/print and laminating this thing for future reads, immediately! I was smiling like an idiot throughout the entire thing. (my roommate now thinks I'm i crazy weirdo for screaming "OH FRANCE" every two second, thanks. XD) No lie anon, I officially love you unconditionally. Please take everything i have because it's not enough.
Your characterization of France's antics was just so ridiculously in character for him that i was left in awe after reading this fill.
Not to mention England's blatant denial of his pedobear tendencies, despite the OVERWHELMING amounts of proof had me loling constantly. (it's alright England we all understand *pat pat* )
My favorite line? "What is important is that my TiVo was like, Hey America, look at this right now it’s amazing! And I’m all, What is it TiVo, what’s so amazing? and it’s you guys and this thing! Good job… you,” America says, smiling at Latvia."
I died, and it's all your wonderful fault anon! I'd heard tivo could do things like that, but just the way you phrased it, so win! I swear I'll be quoting this all day tomorrow, and no one will get it but I'll be so cloud9 that i won't care.
Also about this-
"I was sitting at home watching my Next Top Model"
Was that pun intended anon!?!? If so your flippin brilliant! I had to stop reading at that part just so i could regain my breath. And then stop again once I'd finished Americas rant.
You...YOU-!
YOU FUCKING ROCK SO HARD!!!!!
Tl;dr I love author!anon. Don't ever stop!
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Captcha: one's tabasco (and what's the other?)
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THAT IS ALL.
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