Arthur Kirkland was not in the best of moods. He had accidentally Francis Bonnefoy, who he had desperately been trying to avoid. Stupid frog bastard, he thought. So, he sat on his couch watching old western movies in the comfort of his own living room. He didn't know why, but he found himself awfully attracted to them. Maybe it was the way the actors talked that reminded him of a certain someone…
There was a soft knock on the door, and someone entered. Arthur turned to see Alfred F. Jones walk in carrying what appeared to be a very old and somewhat dusty wooden box.
"Hello Alfred, how are you?" Alfred said, pausing the movie
"'Sup dude." Alfred muttered. He seemed a lot quieter than usual.
"What brings you here at this time of night?"
"Huh? Oh right. I forgot about the time zone changes."
"Yes you git, it's nearly two in the morning."
"Sorry dude. But I was cleaning out my storage room when I found this. It's yours, isn't it?"
Arthur looked at to box. It did seem awfully familiar for some reason.
"Well, let's have a look then, shall we?" Arthur sighed, motioning for Alfred to sit down. He did, placing the wooden box on the table. The older country pushed open the lid and gasped. Inside were dozens of envelopes, small woodcarvings, jewelry, and other assortments of small objects. "W-where did you say you found this?"
"Storage room."
Arthur picked up one of the smaller envelopes, which was slightly yellowed and appeared to have been folded and shoved roughly into pockets on several occasions. He carefully opened it and pulled out the letter that was still inside. As he did, something fell out. A beautiful ring with a thin golden band and a glinting diamond mounted on it. Arthur gasped and quickly grabbed one of the letters that was sitting in the box. When he tried to read it, he found he could not for it was written in not English, but French. He grabbed another, and another, but they all had the same loopy handwriting, no matter which he chose. Hands shaking, he picked up the letter which the ring had fallen out of. It read:
Bonjour moncherAngleterre,
comme vous l'aurezremarqué, j'aiprislalibertéde placer labagueque j'aipréparépourvous. Je sais quevous n'avez toujours pasmeplaît beaucoup, maisjeveux vraimentdevenircelui quiestle plusprécieux pourvous. Je sais aussiquevous nevoulez pasmemarieruniquementà des fins profital, mais ce n'estpasun de cesmoments. C'estjustemoi de vousdemandercomme unhomme. I vous prie dedireoui. vousouvrez votrecœur àmoi? Acceptez-vousmonMesure proposée? S'il vous plaîtrépondrerapidement, moncher.
Tout mon amour,
France
England stared dumbly at it for a few minutes, mouthing the words as he read.
"America?" he asked, his voice shaking, "You opened this letter, didn't you."
"Sorry dude. I don't speak French, but then again, it's kind of a dead giveaway."
England sighed. This was not one of the memories that he was eager to drag up from the past. He rested his face in his hands, pushing back the onslaught of emotional turmoil that was making his head spin.
"England? You alright?" America whispered, inching closer towards the disgruntled looking country.
"I… I don't know," Arthur said, realizing with a start. He really didn't know. He found tears leaking from his green eyes. He did not cry or sob, but merely sat there, dumbstruck, as little drops of water continued to form and fall soundlessly into his lap.
"You guys really had something going, didn't you?" Alfred asked quietly, pressing their foreheads together.
"No, no it was completely one-sided."
"Was it?"
England chose his words carefully before he responded again. "Yes. He was a selfish bastard who was always wanking off at anything that had two legs."
"Oh, so he was basically exactly the same back then as he is now?"
"I guess so…"
England sighed, the tears finally sliding to a halt on his cheeks where America gently kissed them, smiling.
"Feeling better?"
"I was better off until you walked in, git."
"Well, that's because you gave me this," America said, smiling slyly as he held up a copy of England's house key.
"I gave you that for a reason, so don't make me take it away. With great power comes great responsi- OW! Why'd you hit me?"
"My comics. My movies. My famous sayings." America said whiningly, "You already have that old guy with the bug poofy neck ruffle, so leave me and my great American literature alone!"
"Literature? Comic books don't count as Literature!"
"Go ask Japan. I'm sure he'll agree with me."
"That's because people only like him because of his manga books or whatever they're called. And furthermore-"
England never got to finish what he was trying to lecture Alfred on because at that moment, a tongue intruding his mouth stifled his words. He jumped back, spluttering.
"W-what the bloody hell are you doing!"
"What does it look like," America said slyly, crawling slowly towards the startled England. Arthur had fallen backwards and cornered himself, pinned between the wall and America. Alfred gently pushed their faces together as he sat down wrapping his legs around the older country.
England would have sighed if there had not been another person invading his mouth. He should have known that America wouldn't have bothered to try and comfort him if there was to be no personal gain. That's just the type of selfish bastard he was.
England allowed his black t-shirt to be removed as America started to trail kisses down his jaw, to his neck, and then making his way down past his belly button stopped. He looked up and grinned at Arthur as he started to unbutton the offending pants to reveal boxers with Union flag print.
"I see London, I see-"
"Don't. You. Dare. Start that shit again."
Alfred smiled. "Okay Arty."
"And don't call me Art- ohbloodyhell what are you doing?" 'Arty' moaned as Alfred took his now hardening member into his mouth and started to suck the tip teasingly.
He allowed his tongue to trail downwards slowly as Arthur moaned for him to hurry up. Finally, he took the now fully erect member into his mouth and started to bob his head up and down. This was too much for Britain. He involuntarily bucked his hips upwards, thrusting deeper into the warm, cavernous space making America gag a little. He could feel his climax coming. With a final whine, he spilled seed out into America's mouth, who of course swallowed it all.
"Don't swallow it, git," England groaned, panting.
"Why not," asked America through coyly smiling seductive lips, "Does it embarrass you?"
"Of course it's embarrassing you bloody wanker! There's no need for you to-" but his words were yet again cut off by a pair of warm lips.
"There's no need to be embarrassed when you're around me."
"It's because it's you that I'm embarrassed," England whispered, almost inaudibly.
"What was that? What did you say? That sounded like a confession right there," America smirked as he gently tickled the now highly embarrassed older country.
"What? N-no! That's not what I mean-" cut off again by you-know-what.
"Dude. I really don't care," laughed America, "but do me a favor, will ya?"
"W-what?"
"Don't ever make that expression in front of anyone except me, okay?"
"What? Why?"
"I'm worried that if anyone else sees that face, they'll try to take you away from me."
"What are you talking about?"
"You looked so adorable just then. Can you make that face again?"
"What? No! Never!"
"Ahh, there it is~ I knew you could do it"
"Shut up you bloody git! Bastard! Wanker!"
"I love you too."
"Shut up!
Well, there's that. I hope you actually finished reading it and enjoyed it! (^o^)/
Please rate and review! Any criticism or pointers will be greatly appreciated!
