Title: Warm Whispers -Oneshot
Genre: romance, fluff, smut
Pairings: USUK
Rating: M
Warnings: sex, possible OD from fluff, mentions of Tucson shootings (brief)
Summary: Your warm whispers, out of the dark they carry my heart, into the dawn they carry me through
Note: De-Anon from the Hetalia kink meme on Livejournal, original prompt asked for pillow talk between America and England. I am the worst anon poster ever but whatever. This fic was written under HEAVY influence of Missy Higgin's wonderful song of Warm Whispers, which you can listen to at http : / / www . youtube . com / watch?v=Nnf1yvUPaKA.
Hope you enjoy and remember, reviews are love!
Warm Whispers
"Your warm whispers,
Out of the dark they carry my heart
Your warm whispers,
Into the dawn they carry me through"
England gasped and arched back onto his shoulder blades as America thrust harder and faster into him, digging his toes into the sheets for purchase, tilting his head back until he was nearly looking at his headboard upside down. He was close and he knew America was close as well, but he tried to keep his head above the rolling nimbus of pleasure thrumming through his body, tried to prolong the feeling of utter completeness he felt whenever he and America were together after a longer-than-desired absence. America gripped his hips tighter and let out a strangled noise from his throat as he came, his lips pressing those noises against England's chest. America was tall, but he wasn't tall enough to reach England's lips, from their angle; England clutched at the sheets tighter and followed him over the edge a few moments later when one of those broad, warm hands wrapped around his cock and pumped him to completion.
They remained in their positions for a few moments, clutching at each other's sweat-slicked skin and catching their mingled breath before America groaned and pulled out, flopping down on England's bed nosily with a satisfied sigh. He stayed there for a few seconds before he leaned over, kissed England's cheek, and rolled out of bed, whistling happily as he went into the bathroom. England let out an appreciative hum when the bed dipped in and he felt a warm cloth wipe his sticky skin clean; he heard a wet plop of the cloth being thrown back into his bathroom from the bed but had no chance to scold as America lay back down and draped all over England's body, not unlike an octopus, under the sheets again.
"If that landed on the carpet, you can be certain it will be you who is scrubbing my carpet clean in the morning." England tried his best to sound cross or annoyed, but all he managed was sleepy and content; as it was only America there, and he wasn't affected by his bluster anyways, England found he didn't really care.
"It landed on the tile, I'm awesome like that." America's words were low and warm tickles against his collarbone as he rested his head on England's shoulder. England loved the sound of his voice after they had sex; it sounded like honey dripping over his skin and made him feel even more deliriously happy. He reached up and ran his fingers through America's hair, scratching his nails against the younger nation's scalp (he was fairly sure that was Montana) the way he liked it.
Sure enough, America began to purr and he nuzzled his nose and smile into England's shoulder not a moment later, blinking up brightly as England combed through his hair. America levered himself up a bit so that his face was nestled in England's neck, right under the earlobe, and wrapped his arms tighter around his waist. England gave a low, breathy chuckle at how America's breath tickled his sensitized skin.
"I missed you a lot, sweetheart." America's words brushed up and down his neck, along with his lips, which inspired England to hum in contentment and agreement (he didn't really mind the pet-names America slipped in at every opportunity…in fact he quite liked them). "A month is way too long; I'm vetoing month long gaps between visits from now on."
"Really? And how exactly will you accomplish that?" England tilted his head to the side to give America more access to press soft, butterfly kisses up and down his neck. "It's not like either of us could really control that."
"I'll kidnap you of course!"
England snorted and tugged America's face away from his neck smirking at the younger nation as he gripped his face with his hands. "Kidnap me?"
"Yep!"
"That certainly doesn't sound very heroic."
America shook his head and smiled, pressing a soft kiss to England's lips before he took England's hands from where the cradled his face and tucked them both under his chin, wrapped in his hands tight. "No, it totally would be! See, I'd be rescuing you from all your boring work and your dying need to see me!"
England bent his knee upward, causing the sheet he was wrapped in to slip down to his navel, and frowned mockingly at the younger nation, who was looking so utterly adorable pressing kisses to his fingers that England nearly felt like giggling in happiness. "Dying need? Don't be daft; unlike some, I can exercise a bit of self control."
"Oh yeah?" America smiled mischievously and shifted his grip on England's hands so that he held both of his wrists in one hand. England toyed briefly with the idea of pulling out of that grip but decided against it when America's other hand slid up his exposed leg; he didn't mind giving America control every now and then. "So, you're saying that you didn't miss me at all, sugar? All those lonely nights without me there to do this," his fingers grazed up England's leg to his hip, "or this?" he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to England's sternum. "You were totally fine without any of that?"
England felt his face flush at the attention but he replied with his smirk fully intact. "I repeat, I have self-control."
"Jeez, make a guy feel wanted why don't ya! Maybe next time I'll go Mattie's to unwind after a month of hard work and let you just sit here and knit since you obviously don't need me!" The younger nation pouted at him and shifted against England's sated body, bare, still heated skin brushing against his own softly.
England tugged his hands free of America's grip and wrapped them around his shoulders, tickling the nape of his neck and upper back. "You wouldn't last an hour, love."
America dropped the pout and smiled goofily. "Only because you're so sexy, muffin."
England couldn't help it, he laughed. "'Muffin,' honestly?"
America laughed along with him before he settled back down across England's chest, resting in between his legs. England kept the smile on even after his laughter died down and went back to combing through America's hair. He felt sleepy, content, and comfortably warm; it had been a long time since he'd seen America, longer than he liked, no matter what he joked about or said out loud. It hadn't meant to be a month long gap between when England visited America in the states and when the younger nation visited him on his land…but things had cropped up and got in the way. They were nations; it was wont to happen, as much as they disliked it.
England knew that America was still upset over what had happened in Tucson; probably more upset than he was letting on to the other nations. On top of the multiple threats and bomb scares recently, the vitriol political climate, and a still concerning economy, the shooting had definitely been the tip of the iceberg. England remembered how angry the young nation had been with Russia over the comments his reporters had made regarding the incident* and what it said about America's people and government. England had been angry too and he'd had a private word with Russia regarding the comments; he may not be a super power any longer but he certainly did not take kindly to those who hurt what was his. And while Russia was unstable at best and terrifying at worst, England had felt a thrill of satisfaction that he had backed off a bit after a phone conversation with Arthur Kirkland.
Yes, there had been horribly valid reasons that kept America from visiting as scheduled, and England had been equally as busy, though with far less stressful things. But, England hated thinking about dark things when he had every reason to be cheerful, cozy, and content and America was cuddling him close. So he pushed the thoughts of why America had been delayed and focused that he was there now and that they were wrapped up in the afterglow; he smiled when he felt America hug him tighter and breathe out a pleased sigh across his bare chest, as if he was dispelling the last of the negative feelings whirling around in his soul. It was so terribly sappy that England daren't say it aloud, but he loved it when America held him like this, as if England was his own personal teddy bear, all limbs and warm exhalations. He might have even loved the cuddling and nonsense words more than the actual sex…maybe; it was hard to say, really.
"Whatcha thinking about?" America's words were quiet and muffled against his skin but England could still hear them.
"Nothing…"
"You're such a bad liar, Iggy. I bet you're thinking about me!"
"Must you always be such an egotistical wanker?"
"You like it."
"You're mental."
"For you."
England felt a tight feeling in his throat at the simple, straightforward, wonderful way America declared his affections; he tugged at America's hair a little so he could meet the blue eyes he'd come to love again more than anything else. The younger nation gave him another dopey grin, which England took the liberty of kissing off his face, tugging the slightly larger body upwards so he didn't have to crane his neck at such a horrible angle. They shuffled around a bit, both still too spent to really get to worked up again, before England felt his equilibrium shift suddenly and he was straddling America's lap, their sheet tangled and crumpled by their feet. He gave America an arch look and huffed at the smug expression.
"Well, now our sheet's gone, isn't it?"
"It's okay, I like the view."
"You're incorrigible. Don't know where you possibly could have gotten it from; certainly not me!" England tried to look affronted but it was hard to do so when America was looking at him like that and making the quintessential butterflies erupt in his stomach. That was something that never failed to cheer England up if he was feeling a bit gloomy, the fact that despite their years together and their troubles, America could always make him feel like new with just one look. He was turning into a bloody sap being with America, but frankly he didn't give a damn if he was; they deserved a bit of happiness, didn't they?
"Oh please, I'm pretty sure we both know you're the closet pervert here! Whose idea was it to play Dirty Cowboys again?"
England smirked at the memory. "I didn't here you complaining at the time, love."
"Well, like ANYONE would complain during Dirty Cowboys." America laughed and tugged at England's hands, silently trying to get him to lean down a bit. The older nation rolled his eyes good naturedly before adjusting himself so he was resting on his forearms, hovering slightly above America, his disgustingly messy hair brushing against the younger nation's nose. "But still—pervert."
"I take offense to that accusation. I haven't seen you in a month and here you are, insulting me—in my own bed no less."
"Aww sweetheart, don't be like that. You know I think you're sexy as hell, perverted but fun games and all." America caught England's lip in a more heated kiss, his hands stroking up and down his back. England felt a small flare of heat lick at his spine and he kissed back, hard, pressing America into the mattress. Both weren't really up for taking it any further so England pulled away slowly, dropping small kisses along America's skin before he settled down and rested his head against the younger nation's heartbeat. Strong arms held him steady as America shifted beneath him so they were both comfortable, and England inhaled deeply, taking all the scents that surrounded America in like much needed breath of fresh air. He had missed the fool terribly.
"You're going to be cold if you leave the sheets crumpled there. If you wake me with you're incessant fidgeting again I can assure you I will find a way to close all the blasted McDonald's in London for a day." England grinned at the sharp gasp he felt America take beneath his ear and arched an eyebrow appreciatively at how he managed to maneuver the sheets back around them with only his feet and a very flexible leg. "Much better."
"You really wouldn't close down the Mickey D's, would you, honey?"
England gave a laugh and shook his head against America's chest.
America tapped his head and flashed a bright smile as England scooted up and met his eyes. "Have I told you how much I love you yet?"
"I'm sure you might have mentioned it once or twice, but one can always hear it again."
America smiled and kissed his temple, murmuring the words again and again into England's ear until he fell asleep, a smile on his face, warm whispers in his heart.
And I am weeping warm honey and milk
That you stay surrounding me, surrounding me.
Finis
* A Russian reporter drew ire and angry responses from the White House in regards to comments he made over the Tucson shootings.