SAY MY NAME
Hetalia: Yaoi: USUK: AmericaxEngland: AlfredxArthur
Damn… Does he have to look that good ALL the time?
A clearing of Sweden's throat jerked America's guilty attention back to the meeting and he winced. It had been a little over a week since he and England had sex for the first time- but the first time sure as hell wasn't the last. They'd started in the bedroom and ended up doing it in pretty much every room in America's house. Since then, America'd had England almost every way he could imagine, and just about as often as he wanted him.
So this… This was just being greedy.
But god… Sometimes it was just SO hard to wait until they got home.
England would do something simple and innocent, like a few minutes ago, when he was trying to straighten his chart and the top edge was just a little too high for someone as short as he was. He probably had no idea that his sweater was pulling up in the back to show a little slice of skin between his pants and the bottom of his shirt- and doubtless no one else had noticed it, either.
America had, though.
He had been halfway across the room and his eyes had been drawn to that glimpse of flesh like a heat-seeking missile. It was impossible to even try to force his eyes anywhere else but that sexy little dip at the base of England's spine- at least until England lowered his arm and his sweater settled back down- so America didn't even try.
But by the time England was all covered up again, he was uncomfortably aware that anyone looking at him might have been able to guess exactly what he was thinking.
Dude, you have got it bad, he told himself. You really gotta be more careful where you put your eyes… Or your hands.
Damn! The willpower it had taken not to touch that!
America should at least get props for not touching, right?
Honestly what he'd really wanted to do was drop to his knees and put his tongue right there, but even HE wouldn't do THAT in public.
Probably.
At least not at the world meeting.
At least as long as there were other nations in the room...
Okay, down boy.
Although he had managed to derail that train of thought successfully, America was still watching England- because if England was in the room, he was going to be watching England.
In the future, though, he had to at least try and keep his looks surreptitious and his chin free of drool. England had made it very plain that this relationship was a secret one, but since the payoff was that America could touch England whenever he wanted to if they were alone, he was not going to complain.
Touch England. Whenever he wanted to.
Oh, England might protest a little at the odd times- like when he was cooking breakfast- not that his cooking was sexy, because god, it wasn't, but that was okay, because HE was- or when he had just gotten out of the shower, and his hair was all messy and his skin covered in water droplets and he really had no idea why America was suddenly shoving him back into the shower stall… Yeah, he might protest a bit then, but America had gotten really good at telling when the protests were genuine and when there was a decent chance of turning things around with some skillful persuasion.
Skillful persuasion that England got surprisingly into for someone who had been so resistant to this whole idea in the first place.
It had all been America's idea, after all, and since when had England ever approved of one of those?
But it had seemed so sensible to him, and he had been determined to convince England, too. Mainly because once his brain got a hold of the idea, it told him that he would simply die if he didn't get England to agree- if they had sexual tensions- and deny it all they wanted, even France was convinced that they did- why not release them?
There was no reason not to, right?
They were both adults, and neither of them was attached-
The look of horror on England's face at first had made America a little unsure, but then he'd realized that England was still hung up on the whole 'I raised you, and now you want to fuck me blind?' part of it, not actually horrified at the thought of America fucking him blind.
Well, yes he did want to do that, and he was pretty sure that if it WASN'T for the whole England-raising-him thing, then England would already have let him.
The attraction was obvious, right?
So America'd figured that the best way to demonstrate that England raising him wasn't an issue would be to, well, demonstrate that it wasn't an issue.
Turned out that once England got over his initial surprise he had a LOT of pent up desire and not a lot of self-control. Which had led to a number of very interesting encounters that America was very glad to have experienced firsthand.
Having invisible friends, he thought, was not the only magical thing about England.
What America HADN'T expected was for there to be anything more than sex involved.
At exactly what point had he started thinking that England was not just sexy, but downright cute?
At what point had he suddenly got all soft and gooey and romantic and decided that the best way to enjoy an evening with England was NOT to head straight for the nearest wall and fuck him up against it, but instead to cuddle up on the couch and share a movie and a bowl of popcorn?
This was so not like him, and it wasn't really like England either.
Because America was pretty sure that England had feelings for him by now, too, and who was the least romantic guy among the Allied powers?
England, that's right. Mr. Grumpy Eyebrows himself.
Except suddenly he wasn't so grumpy, and suddenly he was doing extremely un-England-like things, like making America breakfast in bed (yes, America ate it, although admittedly he did have close his eyes AND hold his breath), and America was starting to realize just how adorable it was to have England actually being nice to him again.
Oh, neither one of them had come right out and said anything, not anything at all, but why else were they spending practically all of their time together?
I mean, yes, they fucked- a lot- but that's not ALL they did- and wasn't it supposed to be all they did if it was just sex?
I am thinking about this way too much, America thought. So what if we have feelings for each other? Maybe you can't sleep with somebody this much and NOT have some kind of feelings. But we're still just having fun, right?
And it certainly was fun…
England wasn't very good at starting things, but he was getting better. Sometimes he'd just give a look, one that America would sure as hell never have imagined him being capable of before he'd seen it for the first time.
Just one hot, heavy-lidded look like that and America would lose all ability to think with anything except his dick.
England better expect him to ravish him right then and there, because the amount of time he could wait after getting one of those looks was about as long as it took for one of England's adorable fairy friends to flap her wings and get the hell out of the way.
Most of the time America still had to make the first move, though, and he didn't have a problem with that. He was always ready to make the first move.
Like right now- when he was at this meeting and all he could think about was making a move right now- a move like taking England into the nicely appointed bathroom, pushing him up against the wall (because cuddling on the couch or no cuddling on the couch, walls were still AWESOME) and-
A sudden chime from his phone made America twitch and yank his eyes away from England's ass.
A text? Who would be texting him right now?
Surreptitiously, he pulled the device out of his pocket and checked the screen.
From MapleSyrupBunny: Check this:
There was a link for America to click on, and as he did he glanced across the room at his brother.
Canada's face was completely neutral, his interested and yet bland expression focused innocently on the current speaker. He looked like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, or on his pancakes.
America looked down at his phone again. After a moment of reading, his eyes widened.
Seriously?
No way!
How had he not known of this fact before?
And wait… why did Matthew think it was relevant?
He didn't know, did he? There was no way he knew…
Another glance, and America saw his brother wink at him.
He knows, America thought. Somehow, he knows.
And… this was his response?
America read some more, and then, trying to hide the wicked grin that wanted to plaster itself on his face, he send a text back to his brother:
From AmericaTheHero: So gonna own it.
There was no way he wasn't going to use this. It was too perfect. And he couldn't help but feel all warm and fuzzy that at least one other nation- one IMPORTANT nation- knew about him and England, and approved.
'Let's get nasty,' he said to England that night over pizza- one thing about practically living with England was that America was undoubtedly going to lose weight. At least unless he could talk England into eating out more.
Right now, though, they were watching DVDs and snuggling on the couch, which was one of America's (two) new favorite things ever.
The movie was awesome, and the pizza was okay this time, because America had been the one to reheat it. England- or rather, Arthur, because when they were by themselves they called each other by their human names- currently had his head on America's shoulder.
It wasn't something he did much, but when he did… Oh my god, it made America melt. Which was probably another sign that he was in too deep, but it was hard to care when it was just Arthur and him and all he could think about now was how nice Artie felt nuzzled up against him like this and how in a moment or two he was gonna unwrap him like a present and screw him six ways from Sunday.
So maybe it had turned out he was a romantic, after all.
'Nasty?' Arthur asked. He sounded sleepy, but America figured he could probably still wake him up. 'What kind of nasty?'
'Oh, I don't know. How about we try something really freaky for a change. Bet you'd like it. Like… How about we roleplay? I'll be the cowboy and you can be the pony.'
Arthur snorted. 'That sounds terrible.'
'You'll love it.'
'I won't.'
'But you'll do it. For me. Right?'
'Not a chance.'
'Okay, then how about we just have plain old vanilla sex?'
'I thought we were watching this?' Arthur said, doing a creditable job of sounding disinterested. But America could feel the way he had tensed, the way his breathing had picked up a little bit.
'We WERE,' he said, placing an emphasis on the last word. 'We can finish it later.'
When he leaned toward Arthur, Arthur leaned away from him a little. He liked playing hard to get. 'I thought you liked it,' he said, sounding just a bit hurt.
'I do like it. Your spy movies are cool. But I like you more.'
If he wasn't wrong, Arthur got a little pink at that, but whether it was at the compliment to his movies or the compliment to himself, America didn't know. 'You can have me any time,' he said. Those words coming from him almost made America lose it.
'I can watch the movie any time,' he said, trying not to sound breathless, 'but I want you ALL THE TIME.'
Arthur sucked in a breath of his own. 'It will wear off,' he said, and points for America because he'd managed not to sound shaky but Arthur hadn't.
God, England was so cute when he was embarrassed. And it was cute too, that America had had to teach him how to snuggle while watching movies like this.
The first time, he had sat down on the couch next to America with nearly enough room for another person to sit between them.
'You can sit closer,' America'd said.
'Alright.' England had moved a little closer, but only a little.
'What if it's scary?' America had asked him. 'Don't you wanna be closer than that?'
'You're the one who can't watch scary movies, not me.'
'Well, if I get scared, don't you wanna be closer to me than that?'
'Not really, you'll probably- Oh!' The last was because America, giving up, had dragged him onto his lap.
'There,' he'd said complacently. 'That's better.'
'I'm not a teddy bear,' England had said, but he hadn't pulled away, not even when America had buried his face in his neck for all of the scary parts.
Maybe that was when America had started to fall for him.
Or, oh hell, no it wasn't. The first time he'd started to fall for England was probably the first time he'd ever seen him cry.
But that was the last thing he wanted to remember now.
Ancient history, he thought. Water under the bridge. Other analogies that I'll think of later, because right now-
'Bet you it won't wear off,' he said, leaning in again just to see Arthur blush. 'But let's try and wear it off. Okay?'
His arms, which had been innocently wrapped around Arthur's shoulders, slid down to the other nation's waist and began to work his shirttail out of his pants.
'Alfie…' Arthur said.
He might have pulled off reluctant better if he wasn't already hard, America thought smugly.
'Come on. You want me. Admit it.'
The shirttail came out. Victory!
He shot a glance downward then up at Arthur's face- England was biting his lip and his cheeks were furiously pink now. So fucking adorable!
Seducing him always felt like the first time. Maybe that's why America never got tired of it.
'Come on,' he said again, making his voice drip with sex. 'You wanna?'
'Mm,' Arthur said.
Very noncommittal, but when America tipped his chin up with one hand and started kissing him slowly, he didn't pull away. In fact, he opened his mouth, and his tongue-tip began to play with America's.
Which meant that playing it cool or not, he was interested.
When had his fingers clutched into the front of America's shirt?
'Ooh, yeah,' America breathed against his lips, reveling in the shivers that ran down his spine. 'Kiss me, baby.'
'Alfie!' Now Arthur did pull away, but it's not like that was going to be enough to make America stop.
'What, you don't like that?' He tangled his fingers into thick blond hair and eased Arthur's head back where he wanted it. There was virtually no resistance, which meant they were still on track. His tongue flickered teasingly over Arthur's bottom lip, and Arthur made a small sound into his mouth. 'Mm, but you like this, right?' America's free hand found the hem of Arthur's shirt and wiggled beneath it. 'You feel good,' he said between kisses, sliding his palm up the smooth skin of Arthur's stomach.
Arthur shivered visibly and then dragged his mouth free again. He reached for the remote because he was OCD like that- and since when had that become sexy? 'Well, let me just pause the… Oh…'
The last word was because America, thoroughly turned on now, had stopped feeling his stomach and gone for something more interesting.
'Never mind, right?' America said, diving for his mouth again. 'You like it?'
Another minute of kissing and touching like that, and Arthur was starting to have trouble keeping his breathing even. His eyes had grown heavy-lidded, and he was definitely liking what America was doing to him, if his responsiveness meant anything.
'Tell me you like it,' America said, nuzzling his mouth up to Arthur's while he whispered against his skin. 'Tell me you want more.'
'Yes, I like it,' Arthur said finally, giving in and nibbling on America's bottom lip with a hunger that made America's own heart start to race. 'Shall we go upstairs?'
He was always so proper, at least until America REALLY got him going.
Speaking of which… 'No, here,' America said. He was breathless again and not even trying to hide it now.
Like he could wait until they got upstairs!
Aware that Arthur might have some small complaint at that, he decided to eliminate any such problems before they arose. It wouldn't take much to make Arthur lose control. It never did.
Without waiting for a response, he crawled over the shorter nation and pushed him flat on the cushions.
Arthur made another small noise as America straddled him. The warm-up had definitely gotten him started- his neck was arched backward and his mouth open a little, while his eyes were half-closed. They were very green, and America caught his breath at the look they were giving him. It was that look. That look he loved.
America liked to think that he was one of only a few to see Arthur like this. Maybe, if he drove him crazy enough, the only one. He looked down into Arthur's flushed, heated face, into those gorgeous green eyes. 'I like you this way,' he said.
'I know… you do…' Arthur gasped. His neck arched a little more, and his mouth opened wider as America pressed down on him. America ducked his head and captured that open mouth, slipping his tongue inside it. When he put his hands behind Arthur's shoulder and lifted him up a little bit, Arthur kissed him back frantically. He sucked on America's tongue and gasped into his mouth, and squirmed beneath him like a cat in heat. It drove America wild.
'I wanna fuck you,' he said, reclaiming his mouth just so he could say so. Kissing England was awesome, but fucking him was better.
'Please…' Arthur gasped instantly.
'Are you ready for me?' America pressed him. 'Do you want it, too?' He ran his hands down Arthur's sides until he found his hips, then squeezed them.
'Y-yes…'
'Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want me to fuck you until you cry?'
He was taking it a bit further than usual, but Arthur didn't seem to mind.
'Yes! Damn it!' His hips moved upwards into America's with an insistent pressure, and America thought- Oh, yeah. He's so ready.
Now was the time to instigate his little plan from the world meeting- the one that Mattie's text had set off. Right now, when he had England so desperate he didn't know which way was up, because that was most likely the ONLY time he would ever get him to do it.
Leaning down, America placed his lips close to Arthur's ear and whispered three little words to him.
At once, the body beneath him stiffened. Arthur's eyes widened and his cheeks, which were already rosy, turned pinker still. 'What?'
He tried to sit bolt upright, but America pushed him back down. 'I want to hear you scream it,' he said. 'I want you to say it when you come.'
'You want me to… When I… Are you crazy?'
Bending his head, America licked Arthur's throat and then bit him lightly. Arthur jerked and gasped a little. It was not a sound of pain. 'Yes,' America said. 'When you come. Will you do it?'
Arthur gasped again. 'No, I won't do it!' When he tried to squirm away, America easily maintained a hold on him. The struggles weren't real, which meant even if Arthur was seriously pissed at him he hadn't gotten any less eager to be fucked.
'Did you know him?' America asked, nuzzling his earlobe. 'Is that where my name comes from? Because baby, that is kinky.'
'It's not… I don't… What are you going on about?' Arthur was blushing again, which drove America crazy. 'You must be joking, though, I certainly won't say that!'
'Are you sure?' America whispered huskily in his ear. 'If you want me to do what you were begging for a minute ago, you will.'
'That's blackmail!'
'Why do you say that like it turns you on?'
'I did no such thi- Oh!' Arthur gasped suddenly as America slid both hands up his chest. As he touched Arthur, America leaned down and swept his tongue over his bottom lip.
'Tell me you're not turned on right now,' he said.
'I… I'm not…'
'I think you are. And I think you've be even more turned on right now if I was fucking you right here on this couch, pressing you down into these soft pillows while you dug your fingernails into my back-'
'Alfie!' Arthur gasped. 'Please…' He twisted again, trying to get away from the teasing touch, but America didn't let him escape.
'It won't be so hard,' he said. 'All you have to do is say it, and I'll do anything you want.'
'Mm… no… I can't.'
'Yes you can.'
America bent his head and licked Arthur's chest. Arthur gasped again, and his hands came up and fisted in America's hair.
'Don't!' he said.
America sucked on him gently. 'You love it,' he mumbled with his mouth full. He sucked some more, and was rewarded by Arthur's small shudders of pleasure, and by the fingers tightening in his hair. He really did love it- he might say no, but he always meant yes.
He'll say it, America thought. He's doomed.
He went to work on the other side, and by the time he came up for air, Arthur was a mess. He was damp with sweat and his hair was all out of place, and his eyes were just a little bit wild.
I did that to him, America thought. The shock of excitement that thought gave him almost made him black out, and he realized that the only way this plan could fail was if HE lost control before Arthur did.
Not gonna happen, though, because I'm-
'Alfie, PLEASE-' Arthur said. 'Stop teasing me. Are you going to…?'
'Hang on,' America said. He moved his hands to Arthur's belt buckle and undid it, then unzipped his pants. 'You're really eager, huh?'
'Whose fault is that?' There was some real asperity in his voice now, but the heated way his green eyes lingered on America's hands told America he wasn't so much pissed off as frustrated.
'Mine. I guess I drive you crazy.' He pushed Arthur's unzipped pants down over his thighs and took a look at the feast spread out below him. 'God, you're hot.'
'I'm not.'
'Oh, yes you are.' He leaned down and licked Arthur's stomach.
'Alfie!'
'What do you want?' he asked, looking up at Arthur, knowing his own eyes were probably pretty heavy-lidded right now.
'I want you…'
Yeah they were, because Arthur was practically trembling with desire now. Desire for him. 'Want me to do what?' he asked.
'I want you to fuck me,' Arthur said. 'Or…'
He trailed off, and America licked his lips suggestively. 'Or what?'
'Or you could… With your mouth, you could…'
'Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?' He winked and was rewarded with more blushing. God, it was so easy to tease him, and so worth it.
'Alfred-' he said now, sounding embarrassed and desperate.
America put his thumbs in the waistband of Arthur's Union Jack boxer shorts. 'These are sexy, you know.'
'I- I know,' Arthur managed.
America decided not to hold back. After all, this was just a prelude too, so why not make him a little happy?
When he started, Arthur's hips bucked up off the couch. 'Oh, fuck, Alfie, bloody hell-'
The rest of it turned into mumbled imprecations and pleas as America started to hit all the right spots. When he took Arthur by the hips and held him down, Arthur's hands went into his hair again. He was pulling a little too hard, but America didn't care.
Can't let him come, though, he thought. Gotta stop before he comes.
It was always easy to tell when Arthur was about to come though, because he-
America pulled back abruptly. 'Hey now, hang on,' he said. 'I'm not through with you yet.'
Arthur made a frustrated growl. He reached for himself, but America caught his hands. 'Uh uh,' he said. 'No cheating.'
'Then do it, damn it! You're such a tease.'
'That's why you love me.' He opened Arthur's legs and pushed his knees up, then took a moment to look down at Arthur spread out beneath him.
God, he's so gorgeous, and he's all mine.
'Are you ready?' he asked. This time the question was entirely unnecessary, but he knew it got England hot.
'Please…' he whimpered. 'Alfred… America… PLEASE.'
America got him ready, and then lined himself up. 'Do you remember what you have to say?' he asked
Arthur blinked up at him, dazed green eyes and weakening resolve. 'Do I have to?' he asked.
'Oh yeah. If you want it, you have to. Do you want it?'
'Yeah…'
'What do you want?'
'I want you.'
'My what?'
'I want your... I want … Oh GOD,' Arthur said as America gave up on making him talk dirty and just went for it. He gasped and clutched at America's back, digging fingernails in and raking long scratches across his shoulders. That was new.
'Fuck,' America said. 'You're… Ow… Hurting me a little, you know.'
'Nnngh,' Arthur said, which meant he was practically beyond the point of coherence. Uh oh.
'Say it,' America urged, beginning to move. 'I know you're about to come, so say it now.'
'Alfred… the… Great!' As soon as the last word was out of his mouth, Arthur started gasping, the prelude to his orgasm.
America began to move faster. He didn't want to get left behind.
It's not like it was going to take much, because, God, Arthur was so goddamned hot, and America got to have him like this any time he wanted…he was going to get so spoiled. No way he was ever going to want anyone else. If he didn't know better, he might almost think he was in love with-
'Don't forget,' America said a few minutes later, when he could catch his breath enough to speak.
He wrapped his arms around Arthur's sweaty shoulders and kissed the side of his neck. 'You said it.'
'Only under duress,' Arthur pointed out. 'I never would have, if you hadn't-'
'I don't care, still counts,' America interrupted happily. He yawned and flopped onto his back in Arthur's lap. 'Next time you can call me America the Hero.'
'A slight improvement.' Arthur said, shifting him slightly. 'Really, Alfie. There's a hundred other things you could have asked me to say, and you picked that one?'
'What? I like it.'
'Do you even know who he was?'
'I read the Wikipedia article.'
'I rest my case.' But he was smiling fondly.
'Hey, Arthur,' America said.
'What?'
'Nothing.' Fuck, did I almost tell him… ? 'You can definitely call me America the Hero next time,' he said to cover up.
Arthur sighed and made a futile attempt to flatten his cowlick. 'Only if you call me Britannia Angel.'
There was no way he was serious, but his fingers felt nice in America's hair. America closed his eyes. 'Sure,' he said, complacently. 'Sounds like a fair deal to me.'