[APH] Commute
Titolo: Commute
Kategorya: Axis Powers Hetalia
Karakter/Pairing: America/Philippines (by muffincaeks )
Uri/Marka/Babala: Mature/PG 13/wala
Buod/Sipi: America gropes the Philippines while they ride the train.
A/N: It's in English save for Piri's dialogues. Originally posted at hetalia_ph.
Commute
Seven thirty in the morning riding the south bound train from Quezon Avenue to Taft.
Oh who was she kidding? The rush hour was never not hell. She couldn’t decide which cart she hated more. The women in the women’s cart were vicious, shoving and kicking and bowling over other women using their gigantic boat-shaped bags as battering rams just to ride the train.
The men in the men’s cart just…well, stank.
It wasn’t new that Maria found herself chasing the train just so she could be on time for her job. The doors of the last cart screeched their warning and she hoped this ride won’t be worse than usual.
- - - -
Cubao.
And they seemed like they were stuck. The amount of people on the station’s platform was horrendous. Maria kept her stony expression on and avoided the stray gazes of the men around her. She was fairly sure she looked like a simple high school teacher who was trying not to be late for work; what other interests were there to notice?
She then felt a hand on her hip.
Tarantado ka, her mind snarled and without much thought, she elbowed her offender, hoping her aim to his gut wasn’t off the mark.
“Shit!”
The voice sounded familiar. Maria looked back with some difficulty and saw none other than Kuya Alfred pressed against her back.
“Punyeta ka. Anong ginagawa mo dito?” she hissed.
Alfred gave her a sheepish, somewhat pained grin. “Boss wanted to negotiate a few issues. Came here as his proxy but I wanted to try riding your trains.”
Maria frowned. “Bakit di ko ‘to alam?”
“Since when have you been informed on anything?” Alfred returned and the Philippines bristled.
“Sige, isa pa at itlog mo na titirahin ko.”
“I kid! I kid! Jeez, y’don’t have to render me impotent here…”
Santolan.
Maria wondered if there could be a longer, more uncomfortable train ride than the one she was on. They were jostled rudely as people squeezed themselves out the train doors and even more tried to fit themselves in. She and Alfred ended up in a tighter, warmer position.
“This kinda hurts,” the American remarked casually.
Maria rolled her eyes, knowing he can’t see her face but hopefully be able to her the sarcasm. “Welcome to my everyday commute.”
Ortigas.
Alfred’s hand snaked its way under her shirt and fingered the waist band of her skirt. Maria swore, knowing exactly where this was going. She cursed the fact she wasn’t able to iron any decent jeans last night. Quickly, she surveyed the MRT.
Everyone was minding their own businesses. A group of schoolboys sardine-d somewhere to her right were talking and laughing loudly. Alfred was a big person and did a very good job of lessening her contact with another person, being pressed against his chest.
“C’mon Maria…” Her name didn’t sound bad on his lips as it did many years ago. “Just like old times.”
Old times when, after Antonio sold her, Alfred had stripped her of what little remained of her culture and forcefed her the horrors of speedy globalization (the consequences her people were still suffering from) in the guise of being equals. She couldn’t admit she was still highly dependent on him. It’d only blow Alfred’s head hotter.
But this. This wouldn’t be anything bad, right? A quick romp in a crowded train, how many times has she read stories like that in Kiku’s media? No political attachments, just fulfilling needs as horny nations.
Shaw.
“Please?” Alfred breathed in her ear.
Maria took one last wary look around the train. Really, no one’s watching.
“Malinis ba kamay mo?”
“Oo naman.”
Her breath hitched as a delicious wave of pleasure shocked down her spine when Alfred finally slipped his fingers into her.
END
Kategorya: Axis Powers Hetalia
Karakter/Pairing: America/Philippines (by muffincaeks )
Uri/Marka/Babala: Mature/PG 13/wala
Buod/Sipi: America gropes the Philippines while they ride the train.
A/N: It's in English save for Piri's dialogues. Originally posted at hetalia_ph.
Commute
Seven thirty in the morning riding the south bound train from Quezon Avenue to Taft.
Oh who was she kidding? The rush hour was never not hell. She couldn’t decide which cart she hated more. The women in the women’s cart were vicious, shoving and kicking and bowling over other women using their gigantic boat-shaped bags as battering rams just to ride the train.
The men in the men’s cart just…well, stank.
It wasn’t new that Maria found herself chasing the train just so she could be on time for her job. The doors of the last cart screeched their warning and she hoped this ride won’t be worse than usual.
- - - -
Cubao.
And they seemed like they were stuck. The amount of people on the station’s platform was horrendous. Maria kept her stony expression on and avoided the stray gazes of the men around her. She was fairly sure she looked like a simple high school teacher who was trying not to be late for work; what other interests were there to notice?
She then felt a hand on her hip.
Tarantado ka, her mind snarled and without much thought, she elbowed her offender, hoping her aim to his gut wasn’t off the mark.
“Shit!”
The voice sounded familiar. Maria looked back with some difficulty and saw none other than Kuya Alfred pressed against her back.
“Punyeta ka. Anong ginagawa mo dito?” she hissed.
Alfred gave her a sheepish, somewhat pained grin. “Boss wanted to negotiate a few issues. Came here as his proxy but I wanted to try riding your trains.”
Maria frowned. “Bakit di ko ‘to alam?”
“Since when have you been informed on anything?” Alfred returned and the Philippines bristled.
“Sige, isa pa at itlog mo na titirahin ko.”
“I kid! I kid! Jeez, y’don’t have to render me impotent here…”
Santolan.
Maria wondered if there could be a longer, more uncomfortable train ride than the one she was on. They were jostled rudely as people squeezed themselves out the train doors and even more tried to fit themselves in. She and Alfred ended up in a tighter, warmer position.
“This kinda hurts,” the American remarked casually.
Maria rolled her eyes, knowing he can’t see her face but hopefully be able to her the sarcasm. “Welcome to my everyday commute.”
Ortigas.
Alfred’s hand snaked its way under her shirt and fingered the waist band of her skirt. Maria swore, knowing exactly where this was going. She cursed the fact she wasn’t able to iron any decent jeans last night. Quickly, she surveyed the MRT.
Everyone was minding their own businesses. A group of schoolboys sardine-d somewhere to her right were talking and laughing loudly. Alfred was a big person and did a very good job of lessening her contact with another person, being pressed against his chest.
“C’mon Maria…” Her name didn’t sound bad on his lips as it did many years ago. “Just like old times.”
Old times when, after Antonio sold her, Alfred had stripped her of what little remained of her culture and forcefed her the horrors of speedy globalization (the consequences her people were still suffering from) in the guise of being equals. She couldn’t admit she was still highly dependent on him. It’d only blow Alfred’s head hotter.
But this. This wouldn’t be anything bad, right? A quick romp in a crowded train, how many times has she read stories like that in Kiku’s media? No political attachments, just fulfilling needs as horny nations.
Shaw.
“Please?” Alfred breathed in her ear.
Maria took one last wary look around the train. Really, no one’s watching.
“Malinis ba kamay mo?”
“Oo naman.”
Her breath hitched as a delicious wave of pleasure shocked down her spine when Alfred finally slipped his fingers into her.
END