This is my first songfic-y type of a deal. I'm really not sure how it flows so any feedback on that bit would be wonderful!
The song is called "One Night in NYC" by The Horrorist. It's a Mature rated song, just like this story.
Germany had decided to give everyone a quick 15 minute break during the world meeting. Something about how nothing would get done with all the screaming and yelling over one another. America had no idea what he was talking about. He sat at the table with France, England, Russia, Italy and Japan, talking casually about this and that.
"Hey guys, I seriously doubt any of you can help me out with this but hay, maybe I'll get lucky or something. I'm looking to have a really wild night out. You know, loud music, dancing, maybe somewhere a little underground, not a place too many people know about. But really wild. These meetings are really getting to me. I need to blow off some serious steam." America looked towards Russia and Japan, he didn't expect the others to offer him much. Sure England had a fantastic music scene, but he'd been there before, and he never saw anything more crazy than NYC. Now Russia, there was a guy who knew how to party. Yes, he was crazy, and terrifying, but the more terrifying you were, the better the underground scene. The more illegal and forbidden. Japan may seem like a soft spoken well put together nation, but America knew there were lots of crazy places hidden deep under that composed outer shell.
However, as America looked around the room, he felt like they were all looking at each other. Some unsaid message being passed around through looks and glances, raising of eyebrows, almost unnoticeable smirks and nods of the head. Russia was the first to move, taking a blank piece of paper out of his folder and scribbling some words and numbers. An address.
"Da, we do." He turned the paper around to face America and slid it across the table. "This is the place you want."
As America took the paper from under Russia's hand he looked around the room. Nobody wanted to meet his eye. What the hell was going on?
Before he could ask any questions, Germany walked into the room, shouting loudly about how they would begin again in a few minutes. With that the rest of the countries flooded into the room and America felt that his time to ask questions was over. He looked down at the piece of paper, glancing at the address. Vancouver, Canada. How could anything in Canada be better than NYC?
Although America had his reservations, he took a flight to Vancouver that very afternoon, checking into the hotel and getting ready for a night out. He wasn't sure what to expect, and the name "Hyperdrive" didn't give him much of a clue either. So he dressed how he liked, black skinny jeans and his favourite black tank top. He hoped it wasn't a fancy club.
After hailing a taxi and learning that the driver was under the impression that the address did not exist, they both settled for an intersection that was close to the supposed address.
He spent about 20 minutes walking around the intersection asking people if they knew the address, but none did. Were the nations just pulling some sort of prank on him? If he got back to the meeting on Thursday and this was all a joke he was going to be pretty pissed off.
America was startled out of his thoughts when a group of people magically appeared at the end of an alleyway. He was standing at the only entrance, and he was baffled at how they could have gotten there. Upon closer inspection they were dressed for a night out, all of them lighting up cigarettes and talking loudly.
America approached cautiously, one of the women looking over to him, her eyes wandering up and down his body, giving him the once over.
"I was looking for this place. Called Hyperdrive, do you know it?" A few more heads turned towards him, eyes harsh and searching.
The woman who had noticed him first spoke up. "Why you askin'?"
"Some friends gave me the address." America suddenly felt a little nervous.
"What's your name, hun? Whoever sent you here has some sort of sense of humor." Another woman stepped forwards, wearing nothing but a bra and a fishnet shirt. Her shorts were little more than underwear, with fishnet tights decorating the bare legs.
"I'm Alfred Jones. A hero amongst my friends, you know." A few of the women giggled, but one turned her head around quickly to look at him.
"Show him in. He's one of them."
And with that, America felt hands grabbing at all parts of his body, arms, wrists, shoulders and torso, pushing him towards a heavy metal door. It opened with a screech, music suddenly bursting out of the darkness before closing behind him.
The suddenness of the situation almost overwhelmed America as he stood at the end of a short hall, the occasional strobe light flicking past the edge of the hall. Now this was what America was talking about!
He walked confidently down the hall, the girls' comments from earlier wiped from his head as he looked out onto the club. He was standing on the top floor, looking down from a catwalk over the dance floor. The catwalk went around the perimeter of the building; in the center of each walkway a pathway went from one side to the other, all 4 meeting in the middle. People stood along the catwalk, most looking down onto the dance floor, same as America.
First things first, America needed to find the bar. He walked down the nearest flight of stairs, the music getting louder as he descended. It was an odd sort of music, like house, or techno, but darker. Like dubstep but more complex. He wasn't sure how to explain it. But he knew he liked it.
The bar was straight across from the stage; the DJ seemed to be doing well, the entire crowd dancing. The club patrons were equally as odd as the music: all fishnets, leather, PVC and boots. Heavy makeup on males and females, lots of hair accessories and goggles.
America was thankful they had American brewed beer, and after buying a drink he made his way back up to the catwalk. He figured it would be the easiest way to pick his first target. He wanted to blow off a lot of steam tonight, and he knew no better way to blow off steam than by dancing for hours and hours with another hot body, then taking them back to his hotel for a different kind of dance.
He watched the crowd, looking for singles, how they danced, how they moved. America sighed, just not seeing anyone who piqued his interest. He began to think about how he came here. The other Nations. America was having a hard time believing that all those other nations had come here. Was he really supposed to believe that France and England had come here? Even more unbelievable, was he supposed to believe Japan and Italy came here?
America was pulled from his thoughts as there was a sudden mass movement in the crowd below. America watched as people moved out of the way for a blond. He couldn't tell if it was male or female from this angle, but they commanded the crowd. As they moved to the center of the dance floor a small space cleared around them. The music changed, a harsh deep bass pounding out. The crowd changed, slowing in speed, feet stomping, bodies moving sensually.
America felt himself being pulled in by the dancing body. He moved from the catwalk down the stairs, bending down and leaving his now empty bottle on the stairs as he descended onto the dance floor. A voice began to speak with the music and pounding beat, but the voice didn't register as America moved towards the blond, pushing forwards through the crowd.
It's about a young girl...
She's only fifteen years old and has blonde hair and blue eyes.
America stopped on the edge of the circle that had formed, his eyes locking with the blue eyed blond body that had captivated the dance floor.
"Mattie?!" America couldn't stop the name exploding from his lips, the loud music of the club eating his words before they could make it to anyone's ears. There was no reaction from Canada as they stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. America saw the smallest hint of a smirk on those soft lips before he turned away, his hips following as his body danced to the music.
And they drove over the George Washington Bridge and drove downtown to the Limelight."Wow, look at the line!"
"Don't worry I know the guy at the door, we'll get in."
And they did.
America felt frozen in shock. Canada. The Canada dancing, his body gyrating, arms and legs moving to the thump thump thump of the music. He watched another man move into the circle; three large men stepped forward suddenly, two of them putting a strong hand on the man's shoulder.
Canada turned around, his arms sliding up his torso and then above his head, hands twisting, dancing to the music. He looked the new man over, nodding slightly. The bodyguards stepped back into the crowd, the new man clearly earning the privilege to stay.
Canada stepped forwards, smiling, a hand reaching out, grabbing the man by the front of his shirt and pulling him closer. America still couldn't move. Watching the scene in front of him, his mind not registering that shy Canada was dancing like that in a place like this. The man grinned, his hands coming up around Canada and keeping the blond's body pressed against his. Canada seemed to love it, his body still dancing, moving, grinding against the man in front of him. The man's hands moved over Canada's body, caressing his back and torso over the fishnet. Canada wrapped his arms around the man's neck, leaning over and speaking into his ear.
And then Canada let go, stepping away from the man back into the middle of his space, a bodyguard moving forwards to remove the man from the circle. Canada continued his almost erotic dance. He was dressed in a simple black fishnet top, but the pants. If America had less control he might be drooling over Canada in those tight leather pants. So tight they looked like a second skin, the top just hanging onto Canada's hipbones as he danced. And his boots. Knee high PVC boots with shining silver buckles, platforms that must have been 6 inches at least. And America thought that Canada had never looked better.
He wasn't sure what came over him, but America felt himself moving into the circle. He felt the two strong hands on his shoulders and waited.
"So many people, look at that guy's shoes... they must be a mile high!"
And she turned around and bumped into a really cute guy.
Canada turned towards America, his eyes closed, hands twisting and moving above his head before one hand moved down his body, over his torso and legs, bending over, giving a delicious show to those behind him. He stood up again, finally opening his eyes and turning towards America.
The look on Canada's face could only be described as pure confidence and smug satisfaction. He nodded and the bodyguards moved away. America walked towards Canada, his body moving without his permission towards the dancing god.
Canada wasted no time, moving forwards and pressing himself to America's body. His hands grasping America's and moving them to his waist, before his own hands moved around America's neck.
America began to move with Canada, his own hips adopting the beat of the music, grinding against the usually invisible Nation. America felt his hands moving as if of their own will, caressing Canada's back, feeling the surprisingly strong muscles move as Canada danced.
They had a good time, they danced for hours and hours;
and she had a few drinks too!
America was still having a hard time believing his current situation, standing in the center of a busy underground club, grinding and dancing so sensually with Canada.
Canada leaned forwards, his lips grazing America's ear before he spoke. "Welcome to my world, Alfred."
America gasped, his body jerking against Canada's as the younger man bit gently on America's ear. The hands that were previously exploring the plains of Canada's back dropped to his ass, and he couldn't help but use it as leverage to pull those hips towards his own.
"Hey", he said, "My roommate's not home and well,
I was wondering if you wanna, you know... come to my place.
It was America's turn to smirk. He felt Canada's arousal against his body, and loved the little gasp as he repeated the action, grinding his hips against the smaller man.
Canada suddenly broke away, his hand taking America's as he began walking off the dance floor. America followed, amazed at how people moved out of Canada's way as he walked confidently through the crowd.
I just don't wanna... I just don't wanna be alone." And she said, "Yes!".
Canada made it out of the crowd and turned a corner, walking behind the DJ booth where there seemed to be booths. He turned again, walking through a small door frame to a separate room.
Canada let go of America's hand, walking more quickly to the back of the room, taking a seat on a large black beanbag chair, crossing his legs and looking towards America who was frozen at the door.
The music was quieter here. America looked around the room, seeing a couple kissing in one corner, a few people talking as they leaned against another. He took a step forwards, noticing the floor was soft. He looked down, seeing the floor was covered in a soft material, clearly for sitting or participating in other acts where it might be more comfortable than the hard floor.
Canada raised a hand and motioned for America to move forwards; he moved over slightly on the beanbag chair, patting the new space for America. America sat in the spot, not sure what to say as Canada moved closer, wrapping an arm around America's shoulders, his hand lying on his thigh.
"Welcome to Hyperdrive, Alfred. I'm glad you came." Canada spoke softly into America's ear.
"What's going on? I've never seen you like this before, Mattie." America turned slightly, looking towards Canada in confusion.
"This? This is where people notice me, Alfred. This is where people stare at my body in shock. Where people are paralyzed in fear, too scared to approach me. Where all the heads turn when they see me coming. This place is different, the people are better. The music so loud you can feel it vibrate your insides. Where bodies move against one another without bias or judgments. This is my world, Alfred." Canada leaned forwards, biting gently on America's ear before licking down the shell.
"And my name is Matthew."
And then...He fucked her all night. Fucked her all night. Fucked her all night.
Fucked her all night...
Canada moved quickly, throwing his leg over the American so he was sitting in his lap. He crushed their lips together, the lust overwhelming America. He felt Canada's tongue sliding across his lips, his hands working their way under his tank top. He felt Canada smirk as he was granted entrance to America's mouth, his tongue sliding in, dominating the American quickly and with such skill that America found himself lost, his mind blank.
He groaned into Canada's mouth as soft fingers pinched a quickly hardening nipple, that sultry tongue still stealing his breath.
Canada leaned back momentarily, grasping the edge of America's tank top and pulling it off over his head. He leaned in again, flicking his tongue along America's ear. "Who sent you?"
His lips moved away from America's lips, kissing and licking over his jaw, tongue sliding down his neck, sucking on the slightly tanned column.
America tried to form words. "All of them. Francis, Arthur… Kiku… Feliciano… Ivan!" He yelled the last name as Canada bit down on the hollow of his neck, and groaned as a sinful tongue came out to lick away the hurt.
"Why?" He whispered into America's ear, hot breath making the American shiver.
Canada's hands were moving over his torso now, one hand unbuttoning his skinny jeans, the other alternating between flicking and pinching his suddenly very sensitive nipples.
"To- uhh… ohhhh..." A soft moan as his ever tightning pants were undone. "Why?" Canada whispered again, his lips slanting over America's before he nudged the older nation's head over, those lips and teeth attaching to the other side of his neck.
"To blow off- ughh- steam." America tried to keep his voice steady, he couldn't let on how much Canada was actually affecting him.
It was spoken so softly, and so quickly that America wasn't sure if he heard right. One word: "Perfect." Slipping out of those supple lips before he felt Canada's hand on his arousal.
America groaned loudly as he felt Canada's gentle hand grasping him. Canada seemed otherwise occupied, turning slightly to the room. "Alright. Get out. And close the door." The few people in the room just nodded and left, Canada watching them retreat.
America watched as the door shut, and once he heard the click, Canada's head whipped around, his lips curled into a wonderful smile as his hand began to slowly stroke America.
America was released from his shock, his hands shooting up and pulling those sultry lips against his. His hands going to work unbuttoning the skin tight leather pants that were so tight, America was sure he would need to cut them off.
Canada moaned into America's mouth as his pants were undone, shifting his hips to get America's hand to brush against him. With his task accomplished, America put his hands to better use, one sliding up Canada's back to grasp the short hairs at the base of his neck, pulling oh so gently, making Canada squirm on top of him. His other hand moved around to Canada's chest, flicking one of Canada's nipples in revenge. Canada broke away, a small gasp escaping his lips before he suddenly stood up.
America frowned, not afraid to show his displeasure. But he waited, as Canada bent over unzipping his tall PVC boots and kicking them away. He watched in anticipation as the great white north hooked his fingers in those tight leather pants and slowly, oh so slowly peeled them down, stepping out of those wonderful pants and also kicking them to the side.
America would have loved to have more time to admire the gorgeous body that stood before him, but his time was cut short as Canada dropped to his knees, fingers dipping under America's own pants, and slowly tugging them down. America lifted his hips, helping the young blond to undress him.
America felt nervous about this encounter for the first time in a very long time, watching as Canada moved forwards on his knees, eyes locked with his now rather stiff arousal, pink tongue slipping out and licking his soft lips.
America watched as Canada leaned forwards, knowing what was about to happen. "Matth-AHH!" He was going to stop the smaller nation and tell him that wasn't necessary, but Canada's mouth engulfed his entire manhood at once, taking it deep into his throat. How could America deny him now?
He groaned in approval, a hand coming down to grab at Canada's hair. One of Canada's hands came up and laid on America's thigh, providing support as his mouth bobbed up and down, tongue caressing the shaft, stroking over the sensitive head. America watched as his other hand caressed his own body, down his torso and disappearing behind a snow white leg.
He felt Canada moan over his flesh, sending a pleasurable tingle up his spine from those soft vibrations. America groaned again, trying his best not to thrust into that beautiful mouth. He opened his eyes, which had shut closed at some point without his knowledge, looking down at the snowy nation below him.
America's hand gripped tightly in Canada's hair, almost releasing himself right then and there as he was hit by the realization that Canada was preparing himself with that other hand, moaning onto America's arousal as his own fingers moved inside him.
America made his move,pulling Canada's mouth off his hardened flesh, a small pop as Canada's lips slid away. He looked at America with confusion in his eyes before America pushed him onto his back, his own body following, pinning Canada to the floor.
"I am going to fuck you so hard, Matthew." America lifted a hand, intent on giving some pleasure to the man below him, but quickly found the tables turned, as the surprisingly strong Canadian pushed him onto his back.
Canada quickly moved to straddle America, smirking at his sudden confusion. He leaned down, a hand playing with America's nipple, rubbing and twisting the hardened nub.
"No, Alfred. This is my world. I am going to let you fuck me. And I hope you are good. I'm going to ride you until I feel satisfied. And I should warn you now, I like to be fucked until I can't do basic math."
America smirked, liking the idea of Canada's soft white flesh moving sensually on top of him. "Well then you are in luck." America smirked, kissing Canada roughly before pulling away, his hands grabbing onto Canada's wonderful ass. "I can do better than that." He let his hand slowly move up and roughly grabbed Canada's own erection, stroking it firmly as he leaned up, capturing Canada's mouth in a passionate kiss.
America loved the soft mewls that escaped from Canada into his mouth, relished the lean body jerking towards his hand. If Canada was as good at sex as he was at dancing, America was certainly in for a good night.
America felt Canada shifting, his body lifting slightly and moving back. America watched in fascination as Canada, the shy, nervous, invisible nation spat on his hand. America forced his eyes to stay open as Canada reached under him and stroked America's hardened length a few times, before positioning it at his hole.
Canada straightened his body, leaning up, one hand on America's chest for support, as he slowly lowered himself onto America's hot flesh. America let his eyes slip closed as the tight heat of Canada engulfed him, sliding down in one smooth motion. He heard Canada moan before the younger nation leaned over, America's length shifting in the tightening space.
"Oh God. Matthew." He looked up into those blue eyes, only a few shades lighter than his own, his hands resting on the smooth powerful hips of the younger man.
"This is just the beginning." And with that said, Canada sat up and began to move.
He wasted no time getting straight to the point, moving quickly over America, bouncing up and down on powerful legs, impaling himself on America's length. It was pure lust. His lewd body moving up and down, hips occasionally gyrating against the hot flesh inside him.
America matched Canada's rhythm, thrusting his own hips up as Canada moved down, pushing further into the nation than before.
"Alfred!" He loved hearing his name fall from those lips as they moved against each other, bodies hot and sweating, the sound of flesh on flesh as soft moans continually escaped from Canada's mouth.
America was becoming painfully aware of how short their encounter was going to be; the sight of Canada moving above him, moaning and writhing, was doing far more than he was willing to admit. America moved his hand from Canada's hip, grabbing the proud erection bobbing up and down as he rode America.
Canada let out a loud moan, almost falling forwards as America gripped his length, firm hands stroking his aching length in time with their thrusts.
America could feel the other tightening around him, and he knew it wouldn't be long. "Matthew." A groan interrupted his sentence as Canada rolled his hips, doing wonderful things to America's manhood. "Matthew, what's two plus two?"
America smirked as he watched Canada's eyebrows furrow in concentration, his body still rising and dropping down, meeting America's thrusts, moaning each time.
"It's uh-ahh!" Canada couldn't finish his sentence as America moved a hand to tweak the younger man's nipple, pulling and twisting it as he continued to thrust into Canada.
"Now come on, Matthew. Two plus two." America smirked, knowing the Canadian was too far gone to answer such complex questions. He stroked Canada with renewed vigor, making sure to pay attention to the throbbing head, using his other hand to push Canada more firmly onto him with each thrust.
"I bet you can't even remember your own name." America smirked hand leaving Canada's pert nipple for the back of his neck, pulling the hair gently as he spoke.
And that seemed to do it for the Canadian. He sped up his movements, body tensing, riding out his orgasm as he came over America's hand and chest. America was not far behind, the tightening around him and Canada's long drawn out moan pulling him over the edge. He groaned, tugging the hairs on Canada's neck firmly as he came, filling Canada with his own seed.
Canada lifted himself off of America's spent manhood, collapsing on top of the older nation, head resting against America's strong chest. America's arms came up to wrap around Canada, keeping him close as they both basked in the post-orgasmic pleasure.
"When can I come back to your world?" America asked quietly, moving some of Canada's hair from his face.
"Whenever you want, Alfred."
So I hope you liked it, even you under age-ers *shakes fist*
Let me know what you think! If you like i and want more! If it was terrible and I should start writing _ instead! Let me know my peeps!
PS this was edited by the lovely Preminiscence ( u/1344086/)
PSS I'm doing a poll on my profile about what I should write next because I have too many plot bunnies! Another "Canada's World" story is a choice! Go vote maybe?
-Majestic Moose Out-