Okay... so first fanfic, first time in fanfiction. I'm such a perv. Nevermind, fogive me for the mistakes. Can review about it... Thank you!
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Growing up with England never was a good thing for America, especially during his teen years.
When he was still young, he and England were so close. They would hug and kiss each other freely. They share a bed and cuddle with each other until they fall asleep. Then, as time flies, America discovered something. He was in love with his brother-figure.
He did not know how it started.
He did not know when.
He did not know when he started noticing things. Small things like how small and petite England's figure was. He first noticed the slim waist of the older man then he noticed how long England's legs are. It did not take too long before he realized how much he wanted to touch the perky butt of the man.
Or maybe it was way before that. Maybe it started when he was young but old enough to have a separate bedroom from the other man. He had found himself going back to England's arms every night, having read a horror story was the only excuse he had yet England does not question a thing. Every time that England was not around, he had found himself yearning for his warmth and smell, so every night he would sneak in England's room and bathe himself in the smell of the covers until he falls asleep.
Teenage hormones did not do any better. By then, he and England barely see each other. He missed him so much that it almost hurts. Though, every time he thinks of the other man, honestly speaking, he could not help but feel his hormones go out of control. Masturbation is normal for boys his age but every time he does the dirty deed, a certain blonde man's name escape from his heaving lips, Arthur.
That was not normal, he concluded. He felt ashamed. Ashamed of his dirty feelings for the said man. So, when England came back to visit him, he could not look at him straight in the eyes. England seemed to notice this and concluded that something was wrong but he did not question the young man.
That night, that was the last night they spent with each other.
America was not sure why he went to the man's room that night. It pains him to know that England will be leaving again the following morning.
"Arthur?" He called, his voice was unsure and nervous. When England did not reply immediately, he quickly turned around to leave but then, he heard England move and yawned his name.
"Alfred? Hmm.. What is it?" The older man yawned as he tried to sit up to get a better look at America.
"Nothing." He replied, feeling uncharacteristically nervous.
"Then what are you doing here?" Arthur asked. He obviously lost his drowsiness.
'Dunno, to tell you I love ya.' America thought. He just stayed silent by the door.
England let out a sleepy sigh.
"Alfred, if you wanted to sleep with me, just say it. You and those stories of yours are obviously scarring you, C'mere" Arthur smiled faintly.
America can't do nothing but follow England. The older man's smiling face was more than enough to make America's resolve to leave vanish.
The young man slowly joined the other under the covers. Both made themselves comfortable as much as possible.
"Good night Alfred." Arthur bid while turning at his back as he closed his eyes to go back to sleep.
"G'night." America heard himself whisper and heard the other man mumble something in reply.
America couldn't go to sleep. His mind and heart were wide awake. His head were filled with thoughts like;
'What made today different than the other times we slept together.'
His thoughts were broken when he felt England shuffle beside him. The man had switched from his back to face him and America could not help but stare at the other man's beautiful face. A small smile graced upon his lips as he observed the bushy eyebrows of the man beside him. It's usual furrow was gone and was replaced by a serene look. America's gaze shifted from the eyebrows to the lips of the sleeping man. It always looked very soft and inviting and America could not help but wonder how would it feel against his. Unconsciously,his hand found itself playing with the blonde locks of the sleeping man and slowly, he leaned into the soft-looking lips.
He hesitated for a bit and quickly pondered if this was a good idea. He might never have a chance to do this again so he chose to risk everything he has for a small peck.
He shut his eyes and closed the remaining distance from those lips that he had always fantasized.
They were soft, softer than he imagined and he found himself leaning in for more.
This was bad. This was very bad because he couldn't bring himself to separate from those lips. He could not bring himself out from the man himself. His brain and senses went overload from that simple kiss. It was heavenly because of the scent and softness of the sleeping man.
He barely registered when England began to stir awake. When he did, he was already pushed by the previously-sleeping man.
He stared at the man like a deer caught in headlights.
England, who only just registered what happened, looked at him accusingly with a flushed face.
"Wh- what the- Alfred, wha-what happened?" Arthur stuttered as he tried to comprehend the previous happenings.
America decided that it was too late to hide his feeling from the man. He wanted to run away but he was no coward, he is a hero and heroes do not run away from their problems.
"Alfred, please, tell me what's going on."
His thoughts were broken by the pleading voice of England. The man's emerald green eyes were almost in tears, his expression was obviously hurt. Alfred let out a nervous sigh.
It was now or never.
"I love you Arthur." he breathed.
"What?" The English man either misheard what he said or thought he misheard it.
"I love you Arthur, I've always have." America tried again with more courage. He did not know what to expect next. Maybe a shove or something but nothing came.
He frowned then looked at the man in front of him.
At first, Arthur was shocked. It was obvious from how his eyes were wide and his eyebrows were in an alarmed position. Then his expression changed into something softer.
"I love you too Alfred"
America barely heard it because his ears were filled by the thumps of his heart but he was sure he heard right.
England opened his arms for the young nation. Slowly, Alfred moved from his spot and accepted the warm hug.
When England wrapped his arms around him protectively, he knew something was wrong.
Then the older man gave him a peck at his temple.
No, this was wrong. He wants to be the one to wrap his arms around the other. He wanted to be the one to give kisses. He wanted for them to be lovers, not- not brothers.
"Arthur" he started.
"Hmm?" Asked the other man.
"Do you love me?" He asked, looking straight to the green eyes of the other man.
England seemed startled by his question.
"Of course I do, you're like my brother."
He felt his temper slipping away together with what's left of his heart. He found himself tightly gripping England by his arms.
"Hey, Alfred, w-whats wrong?" England asked nervously. He only felt his grip go tighter as tears filled his blue eyes.
"A-Alfred, you're hurting me."
The statement caused him to release his tight grip from the man.
"I'm sorry." He apologized. England smiled at him sympathetically.
"It's fine, let's go back to sle-"
"I love you" Alfred tried again.
"I know, I kno-"
"NO!" The young man finally lost his temper when he screamed that word to England. He did not know how but he found himself hovering over the Englishman. He figured he must've pushed him.
"H-hey." Arthur tried to calm him down.
"No- no, you don't know." Alfred managed to say. He tried to hold his tears but failed. He buried his face at England's neck to spare himself from the humiliation.
"You don't know how much- how much I love you Arthur. I want to hold you, to kiss you. I want you to look at me not as a brother but a lover,"he stopped to take a breath.
"I love you so much that it hurts." He ended.
England was left dumbfounded. This wasn't supposed to happen. He truly loved America, more than just brothers but this was really wrong. He watched this man grow from a cute little child to this strong man he currently was. Before, he knew that it was platonic love he felt for the boy. He has three older brothers that bullies him and that made him pledge to be a great older brother for Alfred but things change as time pass he guessed. America grew quickly, he started to regret all those times he must leave the American by himself because of all the work he must do as a country.
When he comes back to his colony, the American always changed. The little boy he once knew was this funny, handsome man that never fails to piss him off.
He remembers the time when he was injured from his battles with Spain and France. The thought of this boy waiting for him at home brought him strength to continue sailing through the Atlantic to get back to America. It surprised him to find out that the boy he once could carry was now taller than him but everything was still the same. His bright blue eyes and enchanting smile was still there.
He did not know when did this platonic love turned into something forbidden. He had always found America adorable. He was always so childish. Yes, childish yet charming. It was the way the American smiled at him after doing something that would make him proud that makes his heart thump faster than before.
He remembered the boy running towards him with a handful of flowers.
"Look! Look! Awthur! Look what I picked for you!"
Alfred shoved the flowers in front of him with a big idiotic smile on his face.
A different memory flashed in his mind. He was sitting in a wide field, enjoying the tranquility of the day when a very familiar voice called to him.
"Artie! Hey Artie!"
England let out a sigh, so much for tranquility.
"Artie!" The American jumped at him.
"Alfred! What!" Arthur hissed irritably as he stumbled down from the other man's weight.
The American settled beside him with a big idiotic smile across his face.
"So, I was exploring my land when I found this huge flower field, I wanted to show it to ya but I figured it would be too much of a hustle so I picked these up, you know, for ya" Alfred showed him a bouquet of red roses, lilacs and multicolored tulips,all while flashing him a charming smile.
England accepted the bouquet with a slight flush on his face then his attention went to the young man's hands.
"A-Alfred! Y-you bloody wanker! You're bleeding!" Arthur dropped the bouquet and rushed to check on Alfred's hands.
"It's nothing, really. I'm the hero. I wo-OUCH!"
"You were saying?" Arthur frowned as he dragged a whining American back to their mansion. Later, that night, the Englishman found himself back in that field with the bouquet in hand. His flashbacks ended there.
He was supposed to be a brotherly-figure. He stayed away from all the temptation that can mess up their platonic relationship but now, when his precious Alfred confessed his love for him, he could not help but feel happy in the same time, disgusted. He's disgusted from himself. Disgusted that he had tempted this innocent boy. Alfred was still young, this was just a phase. It was he,that messed up. He failed to be the brother-figure he wanted to be.
His thoughts were broken when he felt soft lips touching his own. He did not move because of the shock of pleasure it coursed through him.
'Oh Alfred, why did it lead to this.'
The lips pressed harder, begging him to react but England was stubborn. Though, between the two of them, America is more of a stubborn person. England tensed when he felt strong, soft hands roaming his body. It started going under his nightshirt and caressed the soft skin inside. He shuddered when the adventurous hand started to play with his nipples, turning those buds hard. He can feel the heat going south of his body.
'No, this is not right.' England tried to prevent his body to succumb in the tempting pleasure he was feeling.
He opened his mouth to tell the American to stop but Alfred used this as an opportunity to snake his tongue inside.
Arthur couldn't stop the moan that escaped his lips when the protruding tongue rubbed against his own. It swirled inside as if it wanted to consume him and dipped into those spaces he never knew he was sensitive. Arthur soon returned the kiss with more passion than what was given to him and gripped the other man tighter towards him. This surprised Alfred for a bit but he quickly recovered when their kisses became more in sync. Both of them moaned when their tongues began to fight for dominance as their hands began exploring more of each other.
Alfred broke the kiss when the need to breathe became overbearing, Instead, his lips latched to the luscious neck of the smaller man, giving it sensual licks and kisses.
Arthur was unable to resist the sensations from the man's lips and touches. Those sinful lips found his pulse and began sucking hard. Tingles of pleasure sent his body numb as he unconsciously elicit a moan of the other's name. Alfred replied him a groan then continued to suck on his neck. He did not notice when hands began slipping under his trousers and gripped his already hard erection.
"Ah-Alfred!" He moaned as he bucked up to the other man's hand. The American's unoccupied hand went to his shirt and tried to take it off but it ended up tearing it off from the Englishman. Alfred began nibbling down his body, leaving love bites across his neck. His body spasmed when the American's mouth began abusing his right nipple while he continued pumping him with unsteady yet pleasurable strokes. He could feel his precum spilling out his cock.
Alfred stopped his pumping when he began licking a trail down to his erection,removing the Englishman's remaining clothes. The young nation was clearly teasing him when he refused to put his attention back to the hard cock. Instead, the American's mouth attached to the soft skin of his inner thighs, giving it tiny nerve-rousing bites.
Arthur squirmed at the sensations, he never knew he was that sensitive down there. Another nibble from the man caused him to moan out uncontrollably.
"Ah-ah! Alfred! Please!"
When he said please, he did not know if he meant 'yes please' or 'no please' either way, he will never know because Alfred began sucking on his balls softly then licked the underside of his dick, his mind was clearly on the point of shut down. He felt the wet, hot mouth dipping to suck on the head and bucked when it did. White liquid pleasure was spilling out, he knew he was close. He would've continued bucking up toward the heat but was stopped when Alfred's hands held him still.
"Alfre-Ah!"
He shuddered when that sinful tongue swirled around his cock then started to dip itself to his clit. Silent moans escaped unwillingly from his lips. The thought that the American was consuming him like a rare delicacy made his cock twitch. All thoughts left him when Alfred completely swallowed his dripping erection and began sucking it whole.
"Ah! Nghh-ah-Al! Ah!"
The hauling pleasure turned the Englishman into a puddle of mess. He kept on chanting a mix of incoherent moans and Alfred's name over and over as he got closer to his high. Alfred decided to let the older man move in his free will so he let go of his restricting hold from the man's hips. Instantly and unconsciously, Arthur gripped into the American's hair and began thrusting back to the heat of his mouth, clearly mouth fucking him.
Alfred moved himself to match the squirming man's movements, sucking every time it got back to his mouth. His other hand had reached down to his own erection, pumping it in time with Arthur's thrust. The erotic moans of the other man made his cock harder, enough to spill his juices out. He also, was close.
With one last thrust, Arthur released inside the American's mouth with a scream. The sight, the sound and the taste was the undoing of the young American. He spilled to the covers as he lapped the last of the Englishman's cum.
They stayed silent for a while, not knowing what to do next. The room was filled with the scent of sex and the nerve wrecking silence. To break the tension, England decided to say something, anything, but stopped when Alfred bid goodnight, collected his trousers then immediately ran out the room.
"Al! W-wait!"
Arthur tried to.. tried to what. He didn't know. Before Alfred could get out of his sight, Arthur had ran out of his room,butt naked, into the cold hallway. The American stopped to look at him. Now what. He didn't know.
"Al, I-"
"Tomorrow morning."
"What?"
"Let's… let's just talk about this tomorrow morning." America dismissed the conversation and left to go back to his room.
England didn't know how long he stood there, thinking about what just happened until he felt his bones freezing. He went to sleep in one of the guest rooms, his previous room felt suffocating.
Though, they never spoke in the morning. England needed to go back to his place because of some issues. He wanted to stay a little longer. He gave the manor one last look then entered his waiting carriage. His people needs him.
"Sire? Are we good to go?" One of his butlers asked.
"Yes, please do." He replied.
Back at the mansion, Alfred had stood in front of his window. Watching as Arthur leave.
"You know, you won't be able to get him by staring, mon ami."
Alfred turned around, only to find Francis Bonnefoy, sitting casually at one of his wooden chairs. He frowned.
"What are you doing here?"
"What! No greetings first? Did not England teach you any manners" France grinned teasingly.
America sighed. "Hello France,Good morning."
"Bonjour to you too mon ami! Ahh- but I don't think it will be very good."
"Huh-why?"
Francis had switched to his serious mode, making the air tense between the two men.
"It's about your independence."
With those words, a chill went to America's spine.
"I know, I know. I hear them calling me ya know. All of them, my people."
He heard France sighed,
"Something tells me that that is only partly true, Well, being selfish once in a while is fine huh."
America had only remained quiet.
He heard another sigh from the French man
"You were so cute before,"
Francis smiled.
"Ahh, I really wished you were my colony, ah, never mind. I'm pretty sure Mon lapin would be furious if he knew about those tea your people wasted. Ahaha, well then Amèrique, I'm off. Au revoir!"
With that, the French man left. America couldn't think what would England react if he knew that he was meeting up with France. He decided that there is no backing down now. It's time for England to not see him as a brother. Anything but that, even the title of an enemy is better than a brother. With the conviction he made, he went out to meet this George guy. George Washington was his name, according to Francis. A good man, he had said.