England was a romantic at heart. Country of Shakespeare, Blake, Wordsworth and countless other poets of the romantic period, how couldn't he be? Sure, it was buried very deep in him, but it was still there, and occasionally reared its head. Like right now.
He stood at the door, fist hovering hesitantly mere inches away from the wood to knock. In his other hand he held a box of some sort. Honestly, he was too old for this, his days as a romantic country were over. He was just going to embarrass himself, he should just go home. He twitched his wrist, and it touched the wood, but didn't make a knocking sound, just rested it there.
But then the door slid open, and he was staring right in to Japan's wide eyes, "England-San? What are you doing here?" He asked, surprised and a little flustered
England looked away slightly and held out a box of chocolates, "Here," He said awkwardly, "I thought you'd like them. Don't get the wrong idea though, I was just passing a store and I saw them and decided to buy them for you, because I know you like chocolates and you were my friend so I decided to buy them," He mumbled, rambling and repeating himself. The whole thing was a lie, of course. The chocolates were from Fortnum and Mason's, very expensive and he had spent a long time agonising over which ones to chose.
Japan took the chocolates and smiled, laughing slightly. England scowled and looked down a his shoes. "Thank you, England," He said and leaned in, blushing slightly. He hovered hesitantly for a second before kissing him briefly on the cheek, his head snapping back and the blush deepening.
England looked up to, a little surprised, blushing a little too, "I know that… you make chocolates in Japan for people you like around Valentine's day, but in England we… I didn't even get you them for Valentines! It never crossed my mind, it just happened to be February." He mumbled, babbling nervously. Damn! Why was he so nervous? He played with his fingers in his fist awkwardly, looking in to Japan's dark eyes occasionally before looking away, his eyes never stopping moving for too long, too nervous to settle.
"I know," Japan said, and the long fingers on his free hand brushed England's wrist, the one hanging by his side (The other was still curled in to a fist on the doorframe). Japan blushed and hesitated again before taking hold of England's hand, "Do you want come in?" He asked.
"Uh, sure," He mumbled, following Japan and their clasped hand in to the house, automatically pulling his shoes off, and leaving them messily by the door. 'Uh, sure', was that all he could say? Come on, think of what Shakespeare would say! Oh, that wouldn't be any help, Shakespeare never said anything out loud that was useful, he could actually be bloody annoying. Then someone else, anyone else. Tennyson? No. Blake? Not romantic enough? Byron? God no! He was so out of practice being romantic, it was embarrassing. Oh, how he longed for the days when his poets were the best in the world and this was all so effortless. Just breathe and calm down, it's like riding a bicycle, you don't forget it, you just need a bit of practice to get back in to it. It would get easier soon. Or at least, England really hoped it would.
Japan sat England down at a low table, his feet twisting underneath him in the seiza position. He knew he wouldn't be able to sit like this long, but it was polite and he knew Japan liked it by the way he smiled happily at England, which made England's heart flutter. "I'll go get some tea," Japan was still holding the box of chocolates tightly.
He left to another room and England took a deep breath, dropping his head on the table with a thud, "Come on, England!" He growled to himself, "Get a grip!" Maybe it was because it wasn't mindless flirting, he actually really liked Japan. He would admit it, he had a tiny crush on Japan, even if the other nation didn't know it, and probably didn't feel the same way. He wasn't ashamed to admit it, he just wished it didn't make him so damn nervous! He had felt his heart flutter when Japan had kissed him, even one so chaste and innocent and he wasn't like that at all. He was by no means as forward and perverted as France but he wasn't as shy as Japan could be sometimes. He just had to be himself, just himself, and if Japan didn't like him then… it didn't matter. Did it?
"England, are you okay?" He sat up fast as a bullet and smiled a little to exuberantly at Japan, who was standing at the door holding a tray, to show he was fine.
"Yeah," He said, a little self-conscious and very tongue-tied. Japan smiled, a little disconcerted by the falseness of England's smile but walked over in any case, placing the tray on the table and sitting down. He poured the tea from a pot in to two cups, "So how have you been, Japan?" He asked, trying to make normal conversation, though neither of them felt too relaxed at that moment.
"Good," Japan took a sip of his tea and looked up at England, their eyes meeting for a second before they both blushed and Japan looked away, England just taking a sip of his drink, "Politically, there isn't too much trouble, just the usual squabble over pointless things. You?"
"Pretty much the same. Election coming up though, so it's a bit hectic," He took a sip and sighed, the tea was warm and he could feel some of his tensions leaving him, "And I'm not on speaking terms with Argentina at the moment, either."
"I heard," Japan nodded, unravelling the ribbon and opening the box of chocolates, blushing slightly, "Do you want one? They're so nice, it seems a shame to eat them all by myself,"
"Oh… sure," He blushed at the sort-of compliment, "If you want, they're your chocolates," He took another drink of his tea.
"I do," Japan nodded sincerely, smiling, "Chocolates are something to be shared,"
England smiled back and reached for a chocolate, as did Japan's. Their hands both touched over the same one, dark, with an intricate pattern on the top. They both stiffened and blushed, but didn't move their hands. Then, slowly, awkwardly, England leaned across the table towards Japan. Japan jerkily moved forward too, cheeks burning bright red. Their lips met briefly in a chaste kiss before they broke apart, snapping back to their seats and blushing deeper. "Sorry," England mumbled, moving to stand, but Japan's hand wrapped around his, still blushing.
"I- it's alright," He said shyly, "I didn't mind,"
England blinked in shock, Japan returned his feelings? He hadn't really thought… He looked nervously at Japan, "Does that mean I can," He swallowed, taking a deep breath, "Kiss you again?" Japan's mouth opened slightly, as if to say something, but instead he simply nodded. England smiled slightly and made to stand up, but his ankles screamed and resisted. He twitched in pain and brought them out from under him, out of the seiza position, feeling tingling unpleasantly back in to his toes, "You're going to have to come here," He said awkwardly, wincing in pain. Japan giggled slightly, but he was still dreadfully nervous as he stood up and walked over to England, not letting go of his hand across the table, squeezing it tighter. He dropped gracefully to his knees in front of England, who turned to face him. England took hold of his other hand, clutching tightly for comfort.
They leaned in clumsily, inelegantly, Japan's eyes sliding shut. Their lips met and the warmth tingled pleasantly. After a few seconds, England opened his mouth slightly to allow his tongue to taste Japan's lips. Japan stiffened slightly, but England didn't try to deepen the kiss any more, just gently rubbed the back of Japan's hands with his thumbs to calm him. Eventually, Japan relaxed and hesitantly parted his lips. England sucked gently on Japan's bottom lip, making him make a small noise that sounded so good to England's ears but just sounded embarrassing to Japan's. England let go of Japan's hands and Japan frowned at the loss of contact, but understood when he felt arms around his middle, pulling him close for more contact. He felt a tongue in his mouth, tasting of the tea, saliva and the slight hint of something that must be purely England. The tongue felt good against his own, so he tentatively tried to mimic the action but didn't try to dominate the kiss. The actions were messy and awkward, and England was a much better kisser than he was, but the other island nation appeared to enjoy his action nonetheless, judging by the small moan he gave. Japan felt his cheeks heat up again in embarrassment. Not at the sound, but the fact that he had found it… hot.
He suddenly realised he hadn't been breathing, and reluctantly broke away from England's warm lips to supply his body with sufficient oxygen. With a clear head, it was a little easier to see the position they were in, and be vaguely embarrassed. England's arms were holding him tight just above the curve where his back met his hips, so their bodies were flush in contact, Japan was sitting sort of in between England's legs, their legs overlapping slightly. He could feel the slight tickle of England's breath, too and he realised his own hands had found their own way to England's neck without consulting his brain. They were so close, and it wasn't really in his nature to do such things and be so close to someone, so he had to fight hard against the urge to jump up, because he wanted to be here, in England's arms, he just wasn't used to it.
England watched Japan calmly as the arms around his neck tensed and relaxed, unsure of whether to let him go or hold on tighter. He was a little scared that if Japan let go of him it would mean rejection; he was still in shock that Japan had let him kiss him, had eventually reciprocated. The noise Japan had made when he had kissed him was erotic, and England wanted to hear him do it again, not leave. He waited patiently, the only movement being to draw Japan closer by tightening his arms, which was semi-unconscious anyway.
Japan had to do something, he could sense that England was waiting to see what he'd do, so he had to do something. The problem was that the only suitable thing he could think of doing was kissing England, and it wasn't in his nature to be so forward, che, it wasn't even in his nature to do this sort of thing at all. He looked in to England's bright green eyes and knew he wanted to kiss England, he just couldn't quite bring himself to actually do it; it was so embarassing! He finally settled for tightening his arms a little and whispering, mortified, "You can kiss me again, that is if you w-" He was cut of by England's lips forcefully, desperately against his own. England sucked on his bottom lip then nipping it. The change in pace surprised Japan and he squeaked in surprise when England bit him, but obediently opened his mouth to England. The feeling was unlike anything describable, well, perhaps for England, who's eloquence in language and words were now being put to better use, the sharp, talented tongue exploring Japan's mouth thoroughly and charging him like static electricity, crackling and building pleasantly under his skin. Again, he tried to mimic England, closing off his mind as much as he could and allowing his instincts to carry him.
Then, he felt England's hands trail down the curve of his back and on to his arse, squeezing. He shrieked in surprise and jumped back, falling on to his bum, legs sprawled out in front of him and blush on his cheeks. "Uh," England blushed, shifting on the pillow awkwardly, "Sorry,"
"It's okay," Japan muttered, feeling embarrassed at his appalling behaviour, "I was just caught a little by surprise," He scowled, not liking admitting his weaknesses but deeming it necessary, "I don't do this… I've only kissed two other people," He admitted, looking down at his hands.
"Is it okay for you to tell me?" England asked, subtly shifting closer to Japan, "You don't have to if you don't want to," Japan looked over at England and closed the distance between them, putting his hand over England's. It felt warm and comfortable, this position almost natural to him.
"Italy and Greece," He admitted, "Although I'm not sure if Italy counts. He was trying to greet me in that European way, and I tried to move out the way, so he ended up kissing me on the mouth instead of my cheek," He admitted, hoping England wouldn't just laugh at him and decide that he didn't want to date - the word sounded strange - someone so inexperienced.
England gave a quiet laugh from low in his chest and leaned against Japan affectionately, a small smile on his face, pulling his hand from under Japan's, but only to hold his hand properly, "You would have done better to just let him kiss you then. Though I understand where you're coming from; I don't like the whole cheek kiss thing, it's just an invasion of personal space. What about Greece?"
"He said I needed some…" Japan blushed, "Sexual experience, but I ran out before he could really teach me how to kiss properly,"
"Well, I think you kiss very well." England said sincerely, turning his hear to fully face Japan and kiss the tip of his nose, grinning cheekily. Things were a little easier now he knew Japan wouldn't reject him. "My first kiss was with France," He admitted. Quid pro quo, after all, "It involved copious amounts of alcohol and France daring me to kiss him, I can't remember how we got to that, though. I loathe to admit that we did a lot more than kiss for a quick dare." He shuddered at some thought, and Japan got the idea, swallowing the quick stab of an emotion that both made him want to kiss England and hurt France very badly. He assumed it was jealousy, and just went unthinkingly to do the former and kiss before his rational brain had enough time to stop it, before it had even realised he had moved.
An English expression came to mind that seemed prudent in his current situation, so he copied England's earlier actions and tentatively licked England's lips, because, after all, in for a penny, in for a pound. He was completely embarrassed, but how was that different to a few minutes ago? He wasn't going to get less embarrassed unless he got used to kissing England.
Slowly, England opened his mouth, surprised that Japan was actually making the first move. It seemed impulsive, and unlike Japan, but he wasn't going to begrudge him a kiss, it was nice to have Japan take the initiative, so he allowed Japan to dominate the kiss. His movements were messy and inexperienced, but they felt good to England, who gripped Japan's hips, pulling him in to his lap, making him squeak and his shoulders tensed, but he didn't break the kiss. After a while, England added his own tongue to the fray, but, surprisingly to Japan, made no effort to take control of the kiss, instead matching Japan's languid pace.
They broke to gasp for breath, and when they came back together, England was in control, but he didn't increase the pace, enjoying the intimacy and simplicity of the movements. When England broke away for air and looked at Japan, red dusting his cheeks and lips swollen from their kisses and parted slightly for breath, he was struck by the overwhelming urge to taste him, unobstructed by the taste of tea or their saliva. His lips descended on to Japan's neck, pressing against the soft skin, and so, so hot. He licked the skin, tasted the light salt of sweat and heard the gasps from Japan. He continued downward, needing to claim every inch of the pale skin as his own. He hands found the kimono Japan wore and pushed it off of the shoulders.
England's lips burned him, he was hot, so hot, all he could do was gasp, overwhelmed, and lean in to the touch. He felt his kimono being pulled away, and he tried to dissuade England from doing anymore, but all that came out of his mouth were more gasps as soon as he tried to speak. It was as if England knew exactly when he wanted to speak and would purposefully take that moment to bite or suck or kiss in a way that was both mortifyingly embarrassing and highly erotic. He felt his kimono being pushed down to around his elbows as England continued burning him with touches. His body betrayed him, arching in to the touch as he whimpered. Then, England sucked at his nipple and it was too much for him, his head was spinning, he was burning up, he couldn't think, couldn't- he pushed himself off of England, gasping, "Stop!" He sat, legs sprawled but straight, putting distance between himself and England, lower than the other country because his spine was back at a shallow angle with the floor, his arms keeping him up, but they were so weak he was sure they would give soon. He saw England look at him through mussed-up bangs, eyes confused and hurt.
"S-sorry," England muttered, looking down and shuffling away, "I'm so, so sorry, I just-" He paused and changed tact, "I didn't mean to force you to do something you don't want to,"
Japan opened his mouth, there was something he wanted to say – so many things, he just didn't know what. His body was still smouldering, aching and weak. He finally spoke after what seemed like minutes but was doubtlessly more like milliseconds, "I do want to," He muttered, "You didn't force me," He blushed and looked down at his hand, "Just rushed me a little," He hesitantly moved a little closer to England, "I want to… I'm just - I'm not used to - You are - it's just too much," He finally stuttered out, "I'm not used to it. Can we slow it down?"
"Of course," England nodded emphatically, moving closer, but still at a respectable distance, "We don't have to do anything you don't want to,"
Japan flexed his fingers, bringing his legs in to a more comfortable sitting position, "Thanks," He didn't have to prop himself up on his hands now, so they gravitated towards his lap.
Suddenly, England's mobile rang and he slid it open, "Ah, hello?" he asked awkwardly, his voice still a little strange, "Oh, yeah," He said, then a pause, England clearing his throat, "Okay," pause, "Right, — yeah, — I'll be there in a bit, bye," He flipped it closed and looked over at Japan apologetically, "I've got to go," He said, standing up, "Meeting with the boss,"
"Oh," Why did Japan feel slightly empty when he saw England stand up to leave? He felt sad, he didn't want England to leave. He stayed on the floor, staring dumbly, body still weak and everything smudged and ruffled, allowing himself to stay in that state, with his kimono still around his elbows. England, however, smoothed his hair and shirt off, trying to get some semblance of tidy, smiling weakly.
"Bye, then, Japan. I'll see you around." He said, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Next meeting or something," He mumbled, turning for the exit.
He didn't want England to leave, he realised, he wanted England to touch him and – he was so confused. When England was touching him, he wanted it to stop, because it was too much. But now, when there was a polite distance that England was putting between them, he felt cold and it wasn't enough. He wanted England to touch him again. Just hold his hand or something, any little bit of contact. He stood without really making a conscious decision, and followed England in to the hall, where he was getting his shoes on. He stood there, unsure of what to say, but knowing he wanted to say something, so he didn't lose England, and he was afraid he would if he didn't say something, "Goodbye," England looked up. A little surprised that Japan was standing there? Japan self-consciously pulled his kimono back on to his shoulders, knowing that wasn't what he wanted to say. "Thanks again for the chocolates, England," He left the honorific off on purpose, but wasn't sure the foreign nation would understand; the English didn't use honorifics.
"Your welcome. I hope you like them," England stood up, his shoes now laced. He smiled, but it was slightly bitter and Japan was struck with the desire to see him smile properly.
"England, can you-" He paused, very embarrassed. This was not in his nature, no matter that he wanted to ask this, it was still strange and absolutely embarrassing, "Can you kiss me goodbye?" He asked, adding, "Properly?"
England's smile twitched in to genuine, but there were still nerves in his eyes as he said, "Okay," And took a few steps towards Japan. The nation in question stood there, blush back on his cheeks and closed his eyes. He felt England's hand gently tipping his chin upwards, it was shaking slightly, and warm breath on his mouth.
There was a pause there that seemed endless before England finally lowered his lips on to Japan's, keeping the kiss chaste, knowing it would be harder to leave if he didn't restrain himself. At least Japan was being accepting, and not as regretful of their actions as he had expected. He should have supposed that Japan, who had only ever kissed two other people, and one had even been by accident, would be a bit self-conscious and overwhelmed. He rested their lips together, just savouring the contact in a kiss that was probably already too long, but neither party broke it until a lot longer, when England moved his head back, savouring the way Japan's head moved instinctively for more contact. "I've got to go, or I'll be late," He murmured.
"Sure." Japan said quietly, glancing down at his hands, "Can I see you again? Soon? I'd rather eat those chocolates with you than alone,"
England smirked slightly, his more confident side coming out more, and he took Japan's hand, kissing the knuckles, "Certainly," He let go of the hand, and noted the way it snapped over to the other one, the thumb brushing against the place his lips had made contact with, probably subconsciously, "Next Friday? I'm free all day."
"Okay," Japan murmured, "I'll… call you?"
"If you want," And he left with a smile, a genuine smile in Japan's direction. The door closed and he smiled, the sunshine warm on his face, breathing in the scent of flowers, cherry blossom perhaps? They were in season, after all. He started walking down the path, his mind heavy with thoughts, all pertaining to one certain dark-haired nation.
Really he shouldn't have expected Japan, sweet, innocent (ish) Japan to be like he had been his first time. After all, England had been very drunk then, and he and France had just been goading each other on. He didn't mind moving slower. This was what romance was about, those simple touches that showed true affection. Not sloppy, intoxicated movements that could hardly be remembered the next day. England understood the principles of romance, as cliché as they were. He was a romantic, after all, and perhaps it wasn't buried as deep inside him as he had thought.