Disclaimer: I sadly do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers or Hetalia: World Series. Heck, if I did, it would focus mostly on the gay relationships of my favorite pairings. (And no not America x England and Spain x Romano ewwwww…)
Please enjoy and review! I happen to be very self-conscious with my work…ahaha
Somewhat panting, Scotland banged continuously on the door, hoping that the meeting room happened to be open this early. He knew that England was in there since he always came early with Japan for some reason. He also knew that the tsundere had a tendency to ignore those that annoy him, such as America, France, and other nations.
Last night, the Scottish man had called his British friend to explain that the two were now step-brothers, thanks to the certain marrying of one person on each side of their families. The couple had recently been dating for two weeks now, and Arthur, being fully immune to such mischief, confirmed that it was a sick joke and abruptly hung up.
The anger rising in Scottie as he remembered such a thing, gave him the amount of strength to push his way through the door, seeing Kiku leaning closer and closer to Arthur's lips. As soon as England noticed Scotland, papers fell as his hands shifted to slightly push Japan away.
"So… I bang on the bloody door for thirty minutes only to be rejected for this? You make me sick, Arthur," Scotland growled.
Walking by Kiku, Scottie cussed him out in Japanese through mumbles, certainly offending the Japanese man, since the literate foe had made a fool of him in his own language.
"Sumimasen, Arthur-san. I didn't realize that this was such a bad time and that Kirkland-san would be here. I'll…um catch you later?" Japan fumbled, trying to use the hip lingo used by Americans.
Arthur giggled sadly, admiring his bravery and hilarity after meeting his "brother" and his many moods that will soon come. Once he heard the soft footsteps of his native friend disappear from the hall, he was instantly aware of the slamming of papers and the pounding of items in another room.
He would soon try to investigate, but ceased, when he noticed four missed calls on his British flagged phone. It was his mother, The Queen of England, who had left a message that needed to be followed up on soon. He dialed, and caught his mother's voice with joy and enormous delight. "Good news, my boy! Your cousin had just been married!" She bellowed, and her son might have heard a slight sniffle of contentment, but couldn't be quite sure. "...I do hope that you and that Scotland have not been having any…relations. Because I would rather not have any hullabaloo back home, if you could have a chance to attend the royal wedding." England replied, "Of course not Mum," he lied, "That would be indecent and morally wrong, since we are now…brethren." The man had to force out the last word with all of his strength.
He sighed and listened politely to his mother drone on and on about things he could care less about. The only reason he attempted to grumble out responses, is because he was a fine gentleman, and only followed every strict rule of the Gentlemanly Code. A code that is absolutely real, despite what America and almost every other nations tend to claim.
Arthur chose to hang up once his mother finished her news for that day, and he followed the growing noise, knowing quite well who it would lead to.
Scotland's emerald eyes caught England's darker ones as he creaked open the door, promptly noticing the mess the other had created.
"Well well...didn't expect to see you here. Don't you have enough boyfriends, Arthur? Or are you just aspiring to be a slut? If so, then I have no reason not to do this." The taller man without warning had placed his hand on the bushy-eyebrowed man's chin, pulling him into a forbidden kiss.
The Scottish man, being the stronger out of the two had forced entry into Arthur's mouth, ignoring the frustrated and helpless gasp his brother had happened to make. Scotty broke away, lust growing eagerly on his face.
"You're not to flirt with him anymore, retard. You have someone else for that." Scotty stated bluntly. Arthur couldn't help but feel puzzled. Had he and Kiku really have been flirting? Kiku? Me? Impossible. Scottie's a git. There's no way that could happen, since we're such good friends, Arthur concluded.
But then his thoughts trailed back to the little playful touches he and Kiku gave each other, the lingering hugs goodbye, and the smiles they gave one another if they caught the other staring… A light pink blush spread across the failed scone maker's face, evident that he now understood the words that were coming from the red-head in front of him.
"Well, what do you expect me to do, Scottie? We're over because of this little "newfound intelligence,"" he air-quoted. "So I rather not have you doddle on about my love life. Or about who I can flirt with or not. I don't belong to you. To tell you the truth, I don't think I ever had," Arthur firmly stated, unaware of what would happen next.
Scotland's hand shot out at England's chest, knocking the blonde off his feet and onto the cold tile floor. The representative of Scotland dipped his face downward, almost touching the other's nose. Scotland smirked and declared, "I love you, which means I own you. You're my property, which makes you mine."
A pink tongue had suddenly appeared on the younger brother's neck, licking it up and down. A smirk appeared on the ginger's face as he was fully able to take in the moan that had escaped from the short one's mouth. Arthur had tried to remove himself from the other's well toned body, but the other man just held him pinned long enough to try and extract his shirt and other items from his beloved brother's frame. His hands wafted over Arthur's jacket, slowly unbuttoning the buttons one by one.
Threats had leaked from the man on top, scaring the other man on bottom stiff. As soon as Scottie's and Arthur's shirts were cleanly off, the stronger man had started to grab the other's pants, thinking of only one goal. Arthur tried to move away as quickly as possible, but Scotty's firm grip made blood leak from the blonde's peach skin. The force of the intercourse was enough for Arthur to mourn for more… Ahhh…his lips...his tongue….they taste like peppermints, Arthur thought, as they put on their clothes after hours of rough pleasuring events.
Allistor's small blush was now evident on his porcelain skin and so was the sweat that was on his well-structured frame.
"Glad you enjoyed that. I bet Romano couldn't do better. How about Prussia? Spain?" Allistor questioned, getting no response, only a look at the floor, as he listed all of the past boyfriends that Arthur had slept with.
Hurriedly, Arthur excused himself and left, now acknowledging that it was almost time for the meeting. As he made his way to the room where the meeting on financial debates would be held, countries getting ready in the halls stared at him, some horrified and others plainly awestruck.
What's their problem? Is something on my face? Or maybe they just haven't seen an awesome nation...country…whatever, such as me! Oh God. I'm beginning to sound like Prussia, England thought.
He pondered on the idea once more and decided to smile and wave, only for the others around to look away.Shrugging, he finally had found his way to his destination.
Romano gave him one look and rushed to approach him, bumping into citizens along the way. Romano whispered, "Britain! What…what…happened?" The Italian's face had shown worry and confusion, for he had always believed that his ex could take care of himself. Not knowing how to explain clearly, Romano borrowed Belgium's mirror abruptly while she was brushing her wavy blonde locks. Romano quickly apologized in her language, earning himself a sweet smile.
"Here, look at this. I'm really kind of surprised you didn't notice or feel it at all," Romano stated. He adjusted the hot pink mirror, showing England's now shocked face. Two deep cuts were on his face, and dried blood and a hickie was on his neck. The mark he had obtained from Allistor's tight grip was blue and took the form of a dark wound.
"Um… Lovino. It's nothing at all. I… ah… fell. While playing… a game. So, there's really no need to be concerned. Hey, if it's not too much to ask, can you please inform everyone that I'm quite all right? Thanks." England finished, brushing Romano's bangs from his honey brown irises. He turned crimson, for the tea drinker's hand had made contact with his curl.
The love-struck Italian had never gotten over the slightly taller man and England breaking up with him for no apparent reason never truly gave the brunette proper closure in their two and a half month relationship. Romano assured England by saying," Well if you ever need me, please say so. I still worry about you, Arth-ah I mean Britain."
The man without the curly ahoge had almost forgotten that he only called him his real name while dating. To him, it felt just too foreign to use anymore. England, taken aback just a tad, beamed at his ex, and politely suggested that he can call him by name.
"Its fine, Lovino. Just because we aren't like that anymore doesn't mean much at all. So don't worry." With that, he leaned closer to Romano, embracing him in a hug that others would question as loving instead of friendly.
A hand reached out from behind, tapping the Brit and making him completely shaken. It was only Sealand, his sailor hat in hand with its tassel misplaced. "Onii-sama! What's with- "
The twelve year old was thoroughly cut off as his older brother clasped his hand and led them out of the room to the bathroom, leaving Romano utterly alone. The sounds of Sealand's interrogating words echoed throughout the small area, not giving the other man a chance to speak. "If you have a lover or something, you could tell me! You guys must seriously be doing it kind of rough, don't you think?" Sealand said loudly, making the other blush and look away. "No, I'm alright. I just had an accident. Don't tell our kin, ok? I'd hate to see them worry. Hopefully, one day, I could fully explain." And with that short, but meaningful conversation, they turned sharply out of the secluded room and swiftly walked to the meeting, England only having one thing on his mind.