Title: How Rumours End
Genre: Crack, Romance
Pairing(s): USxUK, smidgens of Spamano, GerIta, Franada, SuFin and the Frying Pangle (if you squint and turn your head)
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 Crack, OOC
Summary: Prussia spat out the (illegal) beer he had been drinking in shock. Of course he had been part of the bet running around school on when the two English-speaking nations would finally get together, he just didn't really expect them to be so… so blatant about it.
Prompt:
28- Something based on a href=" .com/pandawolf/pic/0002tc94"this/a. How the filler will view this, is up to them just as long as the basic idea is based on that picture.
The whispers were starting. Up and down the corridor, speculations and rumours ran rampant. Had it really been one week since they were both seen by the school's general population? Everyone in Hetalia High had known they were "enemies with a bloody and bitter past", as evidenced by the frequent verbal sparring and occasional physical violence inflicted upon each other whenever they get within a few metres of each other. It was only France who slyly teased them about the highly charged sexual tension simmering dangerously between them, but everyone else had suspected.
Really, it should've been par for the course for them to finally admit their feelings to each other during the spring break, and so like America to blithely waltz into England's path during recess to envelop him into a hug and a kiss… or two.
The other students stood stock still in shock and a bit of disbelief as the two smooched in the corridor and cooed to each other in sickeningly public and out of character displays of affection.
"Your tie is loose again," England sighed as he stepped closer to America, looping his fingers delicately around the piece of cloth. His tone was less annoyed than usual, and a tad more seductive. A blush stained his cheeks and he wasn't making any eye contact with the taller nation despite their close proximity.
America merely grinned and slid his arms around England's back, smoothing the cloth over the skin, moving lower by the increments, from the shoulders, to the spine, to the waist and finally settling on England's hips, fingers splayed possessively as he trained blue eyes on England's lips.
He looked like he wanted to ravish the smaller nation right there on the corridor.
He leaned closer and cupped England's cheek in his hand, lips moving to form the words that were obvious from his gaze alone. "Let's skip class and fuck."
Prussia spat out the (illegal) beer he had been drinking in shock. Of course he had been part of the bet running around school on when the two English-speaking nations would finally get together, he just didn't really expect them to be so… so blatant about it.
England steadfastly kept his eyes on the tie he was knotting. The thumb that America was currently stroking across his lip didn't help at all. All he could concentrate on was the steady warmth currently stealing through his limbs, making his heart pound and his knees go weak.
He risked a glance at America. The other nation was focused on his lips. He swallowed hard and gasped when he was pulled forward and he could feel the other's hardness straining through his pants, large hands spreading fingers on his hips, barely touching his ass. He heard the demand through a haze of lust and he shook his head to clear it. They both still had classes to attend. Besides, the other students were staring at the two of them.
He vaguely registered both the Italys' rapid fire speech as they waved their coffee mugs in excitement and, in Romano's case, horrified denial. Germany was peering at them speculatively from behind his glasses.
America swept his hands from England's hips up to his waist, untucking his shirt and blazer, hands hot and impatient on his skin. He squeezed in a rough kind of desperation. Lips grazed his ear and a hot breath made him shiver.
"C'mon England. I haven't seen you since last night. I need my fix. Now."
He parted his lips and gazed back at blazing blue eyes. The world ceased to exist. Duties and responsibilities, classes, homework, student council meetings: all snapped and burned in the wave of heat that was spreading throughout his body.
He stepped back and cleared his throat meaningfully. "Yes. Quite. Um, I think I left my books in the student council room."
America's grin widened and he stepped closer. "Let's go get your books then. I'm sure your old man strength isn't up to carrying all those heavy books by yourself."
"Belt up, you git. I'll have you know I can match your strength anytime." He still hadn't let go of America's tie.
They both smirked at each other, England trailing his hand slowly down the length of America's tie until his hand landed on the white shirt, kept going lower until he hit the belt and tugged.
"Care to make a bet, love?" he drawled in his booty-plundering-pirate voice. Everyone within hearing range shivered in anticipation. America's grin widened and he leaned into England's touch.
"The hero can take whatever you can throw at him!" he proclaimed, voice a lot lower than usual. The rest of the nations simultaneously strained their ears to catch what they were saying whilst half-heartedly pretending to be ignoring them.
"To the student council room then," England whispered seductively in his ear, nipping at his earlobe before striding smartly down the corridor. America made a little growl and gave chase.
France smiled at their general direction and said, "Well my friends, it seems that our betting pool may now be closed."
"That was weird and disturbing," Romano stated succinctly, arms crossed and face turned away to hide the blush blooming wildly on his cheeks. Spain absently wiped away his nosebleed and trained his eyes on his former charge. He advanced on the younger nation and tackled him in an exuberant hug.
"Lovi, the greenhouse is empty this time of the day!" he sang out, much to the embarrassment of the furiously cursing nation in his arms.
"Germany, I left my pasta in the kitchen. Let's go look for it!" Veneziano looped an arm suggestively around the steadfast nation. He even opened his eyes and gaze a heated, hooded gaze. "Italian pasta is best with German wurst, right Germany?"
France stalked a smug-looking Canada, who was looking in the direction of the utilities closet. "Did you know that Kumajiro's fur can glow in the dark?"
He stopped, confused for a moment. Canada gave him an impish smile from behind the polar bear in his arms and nodded towards the closet. "W-Would you like to find out?"
He joyfully flung away his clothes before leaping into the said closet and pulling the other nation in with him.
Prussia blinked in stupefaction and looked around. Sweden was striding purposefully towards the other end of the corridor where Finland was standing. There was a gleam in his eye.
"Kesesesese… Well, I guess I am the only one man enough to enjoy the solitude of life!" He hitched his hoodie over his head and carefully stepped around the broken bits of the plate that Spain had dropped during the America/England incident.
"I enjoy being alone!" he shouted defiantly to the heavens, startling a semi-catatonic Netherlands who looked at him blankly. Suddenly, he caught sight of Austria and Hungary walking hand in hand down below and an unholy grin stole across his face.
Elsewhere, a teacher sat at his desk, wondering where all his students had gone.