[Fic Fill]: A Day Down Under
TITLE: A Day Down Under
AUTHOR: revolutionjack
RECIPIENT: didgeridoodle
CHARACTERS/PAIRINGS: Australia/America
NOTES: Uhh, fail skydiving? ^^; Also, my first time writing Australia and the pairing, so ORZ
SUMMARY: Based on this prompt: "I'd really like to see them having an adventure of
some sort. It can be anything - extreme sports (luge, surfing, bungee
jumping, rappelling on Ayers Rock), or just about any high-tail
activity that keeps their blood pumping. Fluff would simply be lovely!"
Rarely did America get the opportunity to spend a weekend with his Australian lover. When they /did/ get the chance to spend time together, America and Australia spent their days doing every extreme sport they could find in both of their countries. So far they hadn’t run out of new things to excel at yet. Their nights were spent chatting casually, screaming at their various types of football, and drinking beer; all of which led up to sleeping in each other’s beds and arms.
Even sex between them -with their energetic and occasionally dangerous motions and their hearts racing with adrenaline and pleasure- was a sort of extreme sport. They were flexible, athletic, and young; good sports who were looking for a good time and someone to get along with. They fit together. Both were passionate for adventure and action - adrenaline junkies looking for the newest thrill.
One of their favourite things to do no matter where they were was skydiving. America and Australia were both accomplished skydivers, having the benefit of years of practice: thousands of jumps, hazards negotiated, and a little something extra in the form of near-invincibility. This tended to compensate for any small mistakes made that might have, and probably /had/, killed human skydivers.
While both blondes loved solo skydives, when they were together, the two of them usually chose tandem skydives as a way to have fun and play together. America loved the feeling of relinquishing control to his lover; soaring through the clouds, falling so fast and having no power to do anything about it. Australia adored the content expression on America’s face when they dropped together; he loved the ability to touch him, kiss him, and play with his hair in the open without having to worry about what his citizens would think about it, without hiding the affection he felt for his lover - without needing to refrain from showing just how fond of the other he was as he would without the privacy the sky had to offer.
Their first few dives of the day were scheduled to go up with a group, a company near Sydney that Australia favoured for diving. On the small plane, America double checked Australia’s parachute, and the clips and straps that would attach the two of them together for the drops. Australia fiddled with America’s harness, straightening every belt that clung tightly to his lover. Nations weren’t easily killed, but they saw no need to take any chances, especially not with less experienced divers watching them prepare for the drop.
The two nations were the last to drop on that run, the plane ascending higher with every minute. America moved himself obediently into position to be clipped to Australia, and Australia spun him around for a quick, shy kiss, “It’s good luck for the day, mate.” He mumbled as an explanation, before adjusting his lover and attaching the harness America was wearing to his own rig. They waddled awkwardly to the door of the plane, before launching themselves out into the empty blue sky.
Australia could hear faint traces of America’s roaring laughter, and grinned broadly as he spread his arms out - more for the fun of it than the stability. America braced his legs on the inside of Australia’s; the pressure of the contact was pleasant and distracted Australia from the fact that legs weren’t the only part of America in full contact with him. Timing it carefully, Australia released the chute, and angled the canopy to avoid landing downwind. The two of them hit the ground as softly as they could have, but managed to get their legs tangled up on landing causing them to tumble into the dirt.
Laughing breathlessly, Australia extricated himself from both his lover and the chute. He had America unclipped, the bag off his back in a matter of seconds and began briskly repacking the parachute. The western nation cheerfully left him to it and jogged over to the waiting drop zone bus; he immediately started chattering with a group of American girls here on summer vacation, and Australia was left to pack the parachute and jealously watch his lover flirt.
He soon got it packed though and joined America on the bus, herding America silently to one of the empty pairs of seats where he gestured for America to take the window seat, taking a seat next to him. A slight frown creased America’s face. “What’s wrong?”
Australia refused to look at him, and when America finally squirmed around in his seat and made enough of a fool of himself in front of the entire bus, Australia bites out a quiet “Don’t like seeing you with anyone else. I know you aren’t mine, not /only/ mine, but....” Unspoken was “I wish you were.”
Australia looks up to be met with sky blue eyes looking straight into his. “While I’m here, I’m only yours.” America grinned. “So, can I top this time?”
“On the drop? Pffft. No way. You’ll get us killed.”
“Oh come on!! I’ll be careful~” America stuck out his lower lip and let his eyes water, focusing all his not inconsiderable persuasive power on Australia.
Of course, America’s puppy eyes had cracked far harder hearts than his lover’s, and soon America had the parachute on his back and was whistling cheerfully as Australia grouchily strapped himself into the harness, tugging on the adjustable straps a little harder than strictly necessary.
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Once again they were the last tandem pair on the plane being the most advanced skydivers of the group. America clipped Australia to him as the pacific nation clung to the bar on top of the doorway.
Australia heard America shout “GERRONIMOOOO!!” as he propelled the two of them out of the plane. With the wind rushing past his ears and his goggles taking the brunt of the force of the wind on his eyes, Australia took the moment to relax, enjoying the sensation of flying that you never really got doing anything else on the planet. This relaxed state lasted not even a full second as America pulled him into a kiss; his smooth lips gently sucked at Australia’s sensitive bottom lip, his tongue sliding out to encourage Australia to open his mouth. Australia gave in to his lover and deepened the kiss. He’d just closed his eyes to enjoy the sensation when he remembered that they were still falling. His heart pounded faster as he started yelling to America to “Pull the chute!! /Pull the damn chute!!!/”
It took America several precious seconds to understand what he was yelling through the roaring wind, and by the time the parachute had been fully deployed they were dangerously close to the ground and moving far too fast to land safely.
The pair of nations landed with a sickening thud, America having been able to adjust the angle of descent at the last second with the canopy so that they could at least slide along the ground rather than slamming directly into it.
Australia spat out the clump of dirt that had somehow managed to get into his mouth and looked around to assess the damage. They’d plowed a furrow in the field of the drop zone, and it looked like the canopy was irreparably torn. He felt America moving below him, and struggled to unclip himself in case the older nation was hurt. Australia himself didn’t feel damaged; no broken bones, just some scrapes and cuts from dragging across the ground. He stood up, slightly wobbly but standing and gave America a hand up. The main instructor from the Skydiving program was sprinting over from the bus, clearly expecting the worse. He stood there, staring as America and Australia brushed each other off; the incident and the injuries didn’t compute for him and they could see him mentally adding it up in his wide eyes.
“We’re alright, mate, just some scratches. We’ll call it quits for the day, and go take care of these; call ourselves lucky and walk out while we can.”
The drop zone bus took the whole group back to the runway where the majority of the group boarded the plane again, but the two slightly shaken nations got into Australia’s beaten up Jeep Wrangler instead. They sat quietly for a minute before they both tried to speak at the same time. “Australia, I’m so--” “I am /never/ letting you--” America laughed, slightly giddily at Australia’s words.
“I swear. I am never letting you top /ever/ again.” Australia was shaking his head, grinning fiercely at their lucky escape.
“Awww, I thought you said that when we got back to the hotel I could--”
“Skydiving. The hotel... well, that’s on probation. So if you’re /really/ good...”
“I will totally set new standards of perfect behavior” America said solemnly.
Australia rolled his eyes, tousling his lover’s hair before pulling out of the parking lot.
AUTHOR: revolutionjack
RECIPIENT: didgeridoodle
CHARACTERS/PAIRINGS: Australia/America
NOTES: Uhh, fail skydiving? ^^; Also, my first time writing Australia and the pairing, so ORZ
SUMMARY: Based on this prompt: "I'd really like to see them having an adventure of
some sort. It can be anything - extreme sports (luge, surfing, bungee
jumping, rappelling on Ayers Rock), or just about any high-tail
activity that keeps their blood pumping. Fluff would simply be lovely!"
Rarely did America get the opportunity to spend a weekend with his Australian lover. When they /did/ get the chance to spend time together, America and Australia spent their days doing every extreme sport they could find in both of their countries. So far they hadn’t run out of new things to excel at yet. Their nights were spent chatting casually, screaming at their various types of football, and drinking beer; all of which led up to sleeping in each other’s beds and arms.
Even sex between them -with their energetic and occasionally dangerous motions and their hearts racing with adrenaline and pleasure- was a sort of extreme sport. They were flexible, athletic, and young; good sports who were looking for a good time and someone to get along with. They fit together. Both were passionate for adventure and action - adrenaline junkies looking for the newest thrill.
One of their favourite things to do no matter where they were was skydiving. America and Australia were both accomplished skydivers, having the benefit of years of practice: thousands of jumps, hazards negotiated, and a little something extra in the form of near-invincibility. This tended to compensate for any small mistakes made that might have, and probably /had/, killed human skydivers.
While both blondes loved solo skydives, when they were together, the two of them usually chose tandem skydives as a way to have fun and play together. America loved the feeling of relinquishing control to his lover; soaring through the clouds, falling so fast and having no power to do anything about it. Australia adored the content expression on America’s face when they dropped together; he loved the ability to touch him, kiss him, and play with his hair in the open without having to worry about what his citizens would think about it, without hiding the affection he felt for his lover - without needing to refrain from showing just how fond of the other he was as he would without the privacy the sky had to offer.
Their first few dives of the day were scheduled to go up with a group, a company near Sydney that Australia favoured for diving. On the small plane, America double checked Australia’s parachute, and the clips and straps that would attach the two of them together for the drops. Australia fiddled with America’s harness, straightening every belt that clung tightly to his lover. Nations weren’t easily killed, but they saw no need to take any chances, especially not with less experienced divers watching them prepare for the drop.
The two nations were the last to drop on that run, the plane ascending higher with every minute. America moved himself obediently into position to be clipped to Australia, and Australia spun him around for a quick, shy kiss, “It’s good luck for the day, mate.” He mumbled as an explanation, before adjusting his lover and attaching the harness America was wearing to his own rig. They waddled awkwardly to the door of the plane, before launching themselves out into the empty blue sky.
Australia could hear faint traces of America’s roaring laughter, and grinned broadly as he spread his arms out - more for the fun of it than the stability. America braced his legs on the inside of Australia’s; the pressure of the contact was pleasant and distracted Australia from the fact that legs weren’t the only part of America in full contact with him. Timing it carefully, Australia released the chute, and angled the canopy to avoid landing downwind. The two of them hit the ground as softly as they could have, but managed to get their legs tangled up on landing causing them to tumble into the dirt.
Laughing breathlessly, Australia extricated himself from both his lover and the chute. He had America unclipped, the bag off his back in a matter of seconds and began briskly repacking the parachute. The western nation cheerfully left him to it and jogged over to the waiting drop zone bus; he immediately started chattering with a group of American girls here on summer vacation, and Australia was left to pack the parachute and jealously watch his lover flirt.
He soon got it packed though and joined America on the bus, herding America silently to one of the empty pairs of seats where he gestured for America to take the window seat, taking a seat next to him. A slight frown creased America’s face. “What’s wrong?”
Australia refused to look at him, and when America finally squirmed around in his seat and made enough of a fool of himself in front of the entire bus, Australia bites out a quiet “Don’t like seeing you with anyone else. I know you aren’t mine, not /only/ mine, but....” Unspoken was “I wish you were.”
Australia looks up to be met with sky blue eyes looking straight into his. “While I’m here, I’m only yours.” America grinned. “So, can I top this time?”
“On the drop? Pffft. No way. You’ll get us killed.”
“Oh come on!! I’ll be careful~” America stuck out his lower lip and let his eyes water, focusing all his not inconsiderable persuasive power on Australia.
Of course, America’s puppy eyes had cracked far harder hearts than his lover’s, and soon America had the parachute on his back and was whistling cheerfully as Australia grouchily strapped himself into the harness, tugging on the adjustable straps a little harder than strictly necessary.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Once again they were the last tandem pair on the plane being the most advanced skydivers of the group. America clipped Australia to him as the pacific nation clung to the bar on top of the doorway.
Australia heard America shout “GERRONIMOOOO!!” as he propelled the two of them out of the plane. With the wind rushing past his ears and his goggles taking the brunt of the force of the wind on his eyes, Australia took the moment to relax, enjoying the sensation of flying that you never really got doing anything else on the planet. This relaxed state lasted not even a full second as America pulled him into a kiss; his smooth lips gently sucked at Australia’s sensitive bottom lip, his tongue sliding out to encourage Australia to open his mouth. Australia gave in to his lover and deepened the kiss. He’d just closed his eyes to enjoy the sensation when he remembered that they were still falling. His heart pounded faster as he started yelling to America to “Pull the chute!! /Pull the damn chute!!!/”
It took America several precious seconds to understand what he was yelling through the roaring wind, and by the time the parachute had been fully deployed they were dangerously close to the ground and moving far too fast to land safely.
The pair of nations landed with a sickening thud, America having been able to adjust the angle of descent at the last second with the canopy so that they could at least slide along the ground rather than slamming directly into it.
Australia spat out the clump of dirt that had somehow managed to get into his mouth and looked around to assess the damage. They’d plowed a furrow in the field of the drop zone, and it looked like the canopy was irreparably torn. He felt America moving below him, and struggled to unclip himself in case the older nation was hurt. Australia himself didn’t feel damaged; no broken bones, just some scrapes and cuts from dragging across the ground. He stood up, slightly wobbly but standing and gave America a hand up. The main instructor from the Skydiving program was sprinting over from the bus, clearly expecting the worse. He stood there, staring as America and Australia brushed each other off; the incident and the injuries didn’t compute for him and they could see him mentally adding it up in his wide eyes.
“We’re alright, mate, just some scratches. We’ll call it quits for the day, and go take care of these; call ourselves lucky and walk out while we can.”
The drop zone bus took the whole group back to the runway where the majority of the group boarded the plane again, but the two slightly shaken nations got into Australia’s beaten up Jeep Wrangler instead. They sat quietly for a minute before they both tried to speak at the same time. “Australia, I’m so--” “I am /never/ letting you--” America laughed, slightly giddily at Australia’s words.
“I swear. I am never letting you top /ever/ again.” Australia was shaking his head, grinning fiercely at their lucky escape.
“Awww, I thought you said that when we got back to the hotel I could--”
“Skydiving. The hotel... well, that’s on probation. So if you’re /really/ good...”
“I will totally set new standards of perfect behavior” America said solemnly.
Australia rolled his eyes, tousling his lover’s hair before pulling out of the parking lot.