The Spice of Life 3
Pairing: USUKUS
Rating/Warnings: M for sex, extra warning for a pregnant-looking America
Word Count: 2420
Summary: America and England enjoy sex as a general rule. Then one night America requests that England uses his magic to allow them to act out kinks they couldn't normally accomplish.
Chapter One
America stretched and tried to sit up. Tried because there was a heavy weight on his middle holding him down. He opened his eyes to see a massive bulge protruding from his stomach. His eyes widened and he sat with slightly more trouble than usual. He lifted one hand to feel it. When he realized that it was firm he let out a sigh. At least his fast food consumption hadn't caught up to him
(even though he was trying to cut down he lived in fear of that).
But then what was it? He stilled. Was it some kind of massive tumor? Did he have some kind of nation-cancer no one had noticed until now? He started to breathe quickly and broke out in a cold sweat. What had happened to him? He had to go to the hospital quickly, but he didn't want to do that in nothing but a now-far-too-tight wife beater and pair of boxers. He stood and managed to peel his clothes off.
He caught a look at himself in the mirror. His nipples were a lot bigger and darker than they had been when he went to bed. His posture seemed very familiar too. He placed a hand on his distended stomach and then it hit him.
Shit. Maybe that all-day unprotected sex marathon when he was a chick wasn't a good idea.
More importantly, he was going to kill England.
He got his phone and hit his boyfriend's speed dial.
"Hullo?" A rather groggy-sounding England asked.
"Get over here. Now."
"America? Are you alright?" He suddenly sounded a lot more alert.
"Do I sound alright?"
"America, what happened?"
"I'll tell you when you get here. There'd better be a plane taking off in the next ten minutes because otherwise-"
"I'm already here. I took a flight last night. I wanted to surprise you."
"Well, you surprised me alright," His voice cracked.
"Wait just one moment, love."
"Don't 'love' me!" He said, panic beginning to slip into his voice. Why was England being so relaxed when he was obviously upset?
"Oh, ah- America."
"What?" He snapped.
"D-do you," His voice dropped to a whisper, "Do you think you're pregnant?"
"How did you know?" He asked suspiciously.
I used the jar last night. I hoped something fun would happen to me. It's alright. You're not really pregnant. You just look like it. I knew you were off work so I wanted to treat you."
America let out a sigh of relief, "So I'm not really gonna have to deal with a baby or anything?"
"No. Just relax. Take a shower. Eat something. I'll be over once I get my luggage and get a cab."
It was only at the mention of breakfast that America realized how hungry he was. He'd taken a bath the night before, so he simply found a pair of sweatpants and a shirt that were oversized enough to fit over his massive stomach. He looked at himself in the mirror. Not the sexiest he'd ever looked, but he wasn't going to go out in public just to get bigger clothes for one day. Since he already looked like a slob, he just shook his hair more or less into place instead of combing it. He smiled innocently at his reflection. England was a sucker for the whole sweet little America thing and the just-rolled-out-of-bed look would probably help, pregnant belly or not. And if he didn't England would just have to deal. He deserved it for scaring him like that.
He waddled out of his room and down the stairs. Hmm, for all he heard people complaining about getting around at the end of pregnancy it actually wasn't too bad. Of course, part of that might have been his super strength, or the fact that he'd only been pregnant for a day, or the fact that he wasn't really pregnant in the first place. Maybe it was some combination of the three. Well, whatever the reason he wasn't about to complain about it.
He grabbed an apple from the bowl near the sink and ate it as he looked out the window. It was a nice day out. The birds were singing in the trees and there was a rabbit eating his grass. He smiled. If England were around he'd make a comment about how annoyingly picturesque it was. America was happy just to enjoy it.
He placed his free hand on his belly and frowned. He wanted England there. He needed him there. This was so weird and a little bit scary and he just wanted a hug. He shook his head and pulled his hand away. At that rate, he thought, he'd might as well save himself time and dip pickles in chocolate.
Actually, that didn't sound too bad.
…Fuck.
Then the doorbell rang. It was a good thing that England never rang more than once because with the rate America was walking a lot of people would have.
"Hello, Ame-eh-eh-"
He was gawking, eyes wide with desire. It was lucky that he didn't drop his suitcase. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. After all, he certainly looked fantastic. He was dressed nicely as he always did when he traveled, with dress pants and a sweater vest shirt combo that accentuated his lean body. His hair was messy as ever, but with that little hat on it was incredibly endearing, especially with that look on his face. Any anger that America still held for him melted instantly.
"Hey, England," America said, "Why don't you come in?"
"S-sure."
America turned and walked into the house and England followed him like a lost puppy, only pausing to throw his suitcase, hat, and coat on the sofa.
"This was one of yours, right?" America asked, looking over his shoulder and turning just enough so that England could see his stomach, "Well, you like what you see?"
"Oh yes, very much." He walked closer to America and wrapped his arms around his waist, "You're sexier than I dared dream." He kissed America's cheek and began to stroke his belly.
America shuddered. This wasn't like before when he had touched it experimentally. This was much lighter and sweeter, much more intimate. He felt heat beginning to coil in his belly.
"Oh, America, I can't possibly say how much I want this to be real. Your children would be so beautiful…"
Okay, it was starting to get a little creepy there, but America would let him have his fun. He'd just tune him out and feel that strong, firm body behind him and those warm, dexterous hands feeling his stomach. He wanted to melt into that touch, just to have England hold him forever and ever and-
England leaned in to kiss him, making America's thoughts stop completely for a moment.
"I want you," America breathed, "I want you so fucking bad."
"Do you think you can climb the stairs?" England asked.
"For you? Of course I will."
He took England's hand and led him to the bedroom. Climbing the stairs was a bit harder than it had been the night before, but his legs weren't complaining nearly as much as his dick was so it wasn't hard to have his priorities straight. They were both practically running by the time they got to the landing. America didn't bother to close the door before falling backwards onto the bed and taking England with him.
England scrambled as soon as he realized he was on top of America, "Shit! The baby-"
America laughed, "England, there is no baby."
"Hush now. God knows I let you play act often enough." He nuzzled America's chin.
America smiled and stroked his spine. The way England was touching him was more than enough to make up for whatever weird things were going through his head. Although, a little more touching would have been nice. At the moment, England was just hovering right above him and brushing his fingers against his skin sweetly. It was all very sweet, but it just wasn't enough. America wished that his stomach was small enough for him to rut against England's thigh. He let out a high-pitched whine instead, hoping that England would catch on.
He seemed to notice something, because he pulled away and chuckled, "Well, well, it looks like I'm not the only one getting randy from all this."
America scowled, more annoyed at England's teasing than actually desperate. "Don't patronize me, just fuck me!"
He looked genuinely hurt, "We've been apart for weeks and that's all you want?"
America rolled his eyes. He was the pregnant one, shouldn't he be having crazy mood swings? Still, though, he might as well give an excuse. "England, I'm pregnant, I'm horny, and I've been too busy to jerk off for days. Talk later, sex now."
"Oh fine…" He sat up and unbuttoned his shirt.
"Thank you," America said with a sigh as he lifted his hands and allowed England to take his shirt too.
"Really, though, love," England said, gently cupping America's cheek, "You look absolutely stunning like this. I could make love to you forever."
"Then do," America said softly, wrapping his arms around England's chest. He leaned in to kiss him again. It wasn't as rough and needy as the last time, although there was no passion lost. It was just softer and sweeter and now with more than just lust behind it.
When they pulled apart, England traced the waistband of America's sweatpants, "May I?"
America smiled, "You know you don't have to ask."
"I know," England said, grabbing the elastic, "I just like to hear you say it."
And with that he took off America's last piece of clothing. His eyes lit up when he saw that America wasn't wearing anything under it. America laughed. Sometimes it was almost adorable how perverted England was.
"How would you like to do this?" England asked as he began undoing his own pants.
"How can we do this?" America replied, gesturing to his stomach, "I mean, this is kinda gonna get in the way whenever I face you."
"Well, I suppose that I could sort of sit between your legs, or else you could ride, or-"
"No, I wanna feel you. Want you to be on me."
"Oh, well, I suppose we could do it on our knees too."
"Yeah." America said softly, "You have to get off for a second, though."
"Ah! Right." England backed off and allowed his partner to roll over and get into his hands and knees before settling back over him.
"Hey," America said smiling, "It's been a long time since we've done it doggy-style, hasn't it?"
"You know I don't like that phrase. But yes. Lube?"
"In the side table drawer where it always is." He said, gesturing with his head.
"Oh good." England said as he rummaged through the drawer, "I wasn't sure you'd have it in the same place since this was a surprise visit and all, but- Oh, I found it."
America closed his eyes and hummed contentedly as he heard England opening the bottle and squirting some of the lubricant onto his fingers. He knew that really he should have felt more frenzied, that the promise of sex should have gotten him all riled up. Even though he had been eager as a virgin when he'd first seen England, now he just felt content. Having England behind him like that, touching him, holding him, and even now preparing him, it felt like going home. It was safe, it was friendly, it was familiar and he loved every minute of it.
The feeling only continued when England pulled his fingers away. He leaned over America, put his lips close to his ear and whispered, "Are you ready for me, love?"
"Yeah," America said, throat suddenly very dry, "Oh fuck, yeah."
"Alright, then. Brace yourself." And then with a quick kiss on America's ear he was in.
America swallowed. Oh, it had been awhile. Sure, he'd played with some pretty decent-sized toys between England's visits, but they hadn't been warm, they hadn't been alive, and most importantly they hadn't been attached to the person he loved more than anything in the world. He moaned. Yes, England was the one who would wax poetic about being connected and merging and all that kind of crap, but at times like those America almost believed it.
"I've missed you," He panted, "I've missed you so much."
"Missed you too," England said, "Hey, would you be able to hold me up on your own?"
"I should be able to, why?"
Before he could get a verbal answer, England set his weight on America's shoulders and placed his hands on his stomach.
"Oh God," England whispered, "Christ, Meri."
He continued to rub small circles on America's belly, pressing in now and then as if to test that it was more than just a potbelly. America assumed that the touches would feel bizarre, pulling him out of the actual sex and making him think about his condition. Instead, it was arousing, making him shiver and moan like England was teasing his nipples. Then again, his sides and stomach had always been sensitive. Maybe this had just made it worse.
England buried his nose in America' s shoulder and inhaled deeply, "Oh, Meri, I'm close."
"Touch me." America said, "Move one of those hands down."
England laughed softly as he did what America instructed, "You're already dripping down here."
"I know. Make it do more."
"Of course." He began to stroke America in time to his thrusts. As he pulled out his hand went down to America's base only to pull down when he thrust back in. America gripped the sheets beneath him. There was always something. He couldn't get away from the pleasure. He didn't have a single second where England wasn't actively pleasing him and he loved it.
England came first, but rode it out. He kept his rhythm as constant as possible, trying to get America off before he was completely finished. He succeeded, but just barely. America spilled onto the sheets just as England was starting to go soft.
They both flopped over sideways and England pulled out only to snuggle closer again. He draped his hand across America's belly again, tracing small shapes with his pointer finger. America closed his eyes and placed his hand on top of England's.
There would be time to talk later. For that moment it was nice just to be together.
Chapter 4