Title: Emerald Orbs
Rating: M
Character(s)/Pairing(s): USUK
Summary: As he maintained his steady rhythm, close to completion, he would dive deep into those beautiful emerald orbs. That beautiful shade of green was always in his mind. USUK.
Disclaimer: I don't own this series in any way.
If you asked America what was the first thing that he loved about England, the blue-eyed nation would probably blush madly and stutter, but he wouldn't answerask your question. The reason would beas because he himself didn't know it himself. He first fell in love with England so many centuries ago, when he was still a colony, and he had always loved England for much longer before that. The complete set of what composed made England who he was, from his lovely bushy eyebrows to his temperamental behavior, with his defects, qualities virtues and many weird ticks and habits, made America fall utterly in love with him. Of course, if England were asked the same question, he would blush and stutter even more, without being able to answer it as welleither.
But if you asked America what was the thing he would remember the most about England the most, he would perhaps answer you, because he knew exactly what it was. While the older nation was remembered by many things, be it his personality or his odd appearance – mainly because of the eyebrows – there was something that made America remember him the most.
And that was the color green. Or emerald, to be more precise, but it would be impossible to describe exactly what was the color of England's eyes. America knew the color of his own eyes, of course, : it was sky blue and it barely changed but England's was different. Whenever the older nation would pass through a mood swing or stay in places with different light – like near large bodies of water, such as pools and the sea, or fireplaces, or simply outside in the nature – the hue of green would change noticeably. Such things wouldn't be nearly as different or especial for other nations, but America often found himself fascinated with the slight changes in his lover. Ironically enough, whenever he was with England, America was working at the utmost of his observationals skills whenever England was concerned, but though he would never admit it.
Those emerald orbs were imprinted into his mind. There was never a more beautiful color for America, and if the nation could have foundfind paint of the same color, he would have changed the colors of everything he found came across, – imagine the new Emerald House or the majestic planes that flew through the sky, taking a bit of forest with them – just so he would be able to be constantly greeted by that beautiful color. Just imagine the new Emerald House or the majestic planes that flew through the sky, taking a bit of forest with them!
He barely saw England enough, and as many beautiful memories they had together, it was the color of his eyes that made America remember him by the most. When they were together as well, the younger nation would always make sure to notice the subtle variations in the older one's orbseyes. America fell more and more in love with England as he was greeted by that beautiful and slightly musical voice – much more than his own, that was for sure – together with those cute eyebrows that were above the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen.
That shade of emeraldEngland's green eyes held volumes of knowledge and emotion, with slight breathtaking tinges that America would only later understand; sometimes they were that it was filled with either love or good feelings of nostalgia. Those orbs reminisced of old times, much longer before America was even born, with the strong memory of forests and beautiful plants in a faraway land. If there were one thing that would ever lead the blue-eyed nation to believe England actually possessed the ability to do magic, it would be those eyes, which were already magical themselves.
Even at the throes of passion, America often found himself lost in those eyes. America venerated every single part of England's body, kissing and licking from the smallest finger or toe to that loveable area between the older nation's neck and shoulder. Once he made sure those soft pink nipples were hard enough, America continued leaving a trail of wet and often sloppy kisses through England's belly until he reached that erotic trail of short hair leading to one of his favorite parts of the green-eyed nation's body.
Admittedly, America was fonder of receiving a blowjob rather than giving one, but he would never deny England the same pleasure he often dreamed of. He licked seductively and slowly at first, softly playing with the adjacent balls, wondering how much teasing England would be able to endure. When he sensed England would complain, America started to engulf the member in his mouth while eagerly using his tongue and still teasing those soft balls.
America was kind, he would always make England come at least once before they even started stretching. When he didn't swallow the sticky substance – which he ironically seemed to have a fond liking for and obviously he blamed England for it – he would use it as a lubricant. His hands would then travel lower, caressing that small bundle before he plunged a finger inside, soon enough followed by a second. It took a large quantity of self-control to not just forget preparation and fuck England right then and there, with all of those eager and erotic sounds that left the older nations lips.
England would obviously be able to take it, they had done it roughly so many times both had lost count, but America started to want to have it always more softly – as much as they could - more loveably. In the beginning it had always been so rough, so rushed, as if they wanted it all to end quickly. Only much later they would smile at each other during their lovemaking – now they were able to call it as such – and utter sweet nothings bravely into each one another's ears while actually meaning every single word. They had come so far and they would continue moving forward, together.
America looked at England then and lost his breath. England was always beautiful and incredibly radiant during sex, with every single each part of his skin tinged with a soft pink hue and his cheeks absolutely red while his eyebrows knitted together in pleasure. Thankfully, England rarely closed his eyes before their climax hit them, so America could stare deeply into those orbs as much as he wanted. He held England firmly in his arms as he continued to thrust into his lover's body. England's long and strong legs were caging him while America felt his back being slightly scratched by nails. He didn't know or cared if it was normal, but the junction of his lover's limbs around him, bringing him down so the could kiss and that beautiful green was always what brought him close to completion.
England came first, but it wasn't always like it, and the walls pressed firmly against his members, making America lose any breath he might have left. As his rhythm started to become erratic and all of the words that left his mouth were either England's nation or human name like a mantra – America loved both and was allowed to use any to his pleasure – like a mantra, he would dive deep into that color that engulfed him. He never saw white when he came. It was always emerald green. That beautiful shade of green that was always in his mind.
Spent, they both lied lay down and smiled blissfully at each other, both of them while trying to catch their breaths. When they had energy, they usually hugged tightly before being lulled to sleep by the sound of the the other's beating heart. England always always fell asleep first,, but not before giving not before shooting America the one of the most beautiful smiles that the young nation had ever seen. It was Such such a carefree, relaxed and utterly happy smile that it made every inch of the blue-eyed nationAmerica warm. After confirming that England was sound asleep, and before he closed his eyes as well, America would always kiss softly England's eyebrows, followed by two short kisses over each eyelid, hoping the warmth would reach that breathtaking color.
In his dreams, America would only see emerald.
Author's Notes: Here goes my first M story and, of course, it had to be UsUK! In this case, I like to call the act as making love rather than sex or fuck. Yes, I adore romance; it's my main combustive for life. My stories normally won't be very graphical, but more metaphoric, such as this one.
What are your thoughts in this shot? Was it too short and rushed or too annoyingly long and boring? I'd very much like to listen to your opinions, since I'm still new at this. Please, review!
Fieldings