England lay bonelessly against the soft down pillow, his hair sticking out at even odder angles than usual. His face was flushed, soft pink and sweaty, the barest hint of a smile curving his lips upward; his entire body, naked and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, was humming in utter contentment.
Beside him, America lay in much the same state. The younger country's arms were folded behind his head, an expression of satiety coloring his features. His glasses were slightly skewed, and with a small chuckle England reached over and righted them before scooting over to lightly cuddle up against America's side; one of America's arms was taken from beneath his head to snag England around the waist. To America's left, the bed's third occupant, their long hair strewn about their head like a halo, looked over at them with a lazy grin.
England sighed before speaking. "I must say," he said, voice the tiniest bit hoarse, "I wasn't expecting to enjoy that as much as I did."
"Mmm, I know, right?" America answered. "I mean, I thought, with three people, it was gonna be a little weird, but no. It was awesome." The third occupant grinned a little more broadly and inclined their head slightly, which England took as agreement.
England pressed a bit closer to America, prompting a squeeze from the arm holding him. "I also have to admit, America," he said, "you surprised me. I didn't think you, er, swung that way."
America turned his head and gave England a questioning look. "... What do you mean?" he finally asked, confusion evident in his tone.
England blinked. "Well. You know," he said. America made a face that very clearly said that he did not, in fact, know. "That you were gay."
At this, America sat bolt upright, startling England and their other partner. "What?" he cried indignantly. "I'm not gay!"
England was utterly bewildered, and it showed on his face. "But- we just had sex," he protested. "And last time I checked, I was definitely a man." America gave him a look, then, the sort that a teacher might give a particularly slow pre-schooler.
"Dude," America laughed, "don't you know anything? It's not gay if it's in a three-way!" He gestured toward the bed's other occupant, who looked as if they didn't quite know how to respond to this nugget of information.
"But-"
"Come on, man! It's the golden rule!" America went on, as if England hadn't attempted to speak. "My boys J.T. and Andy Samberg did a song about it, and you know it's true if they said it!" He then nodded in a way that obviously meant he considered the discussion over.
England, however, thought that the conversation bore continuing. "America, I don't think that, er, rule applies in this case," he said.
America leveled him with a challenging gaze. "Oh yeah?" he said. "And why not?"
"Because, mon ami," came a throaty voice from America's left, "I happen to be a man, as well."
Both England and America looked over at France. He was lying on his side, his head propped on his hand, and he looked très amused (if the smirk and raised eyebrows were any indication). For a moment, America seemed as if he were deciding how best to argue with that; but in the end, the young nation merely shrugged his shoulders and proclaimed, "Whatever! Golden rule still applies!" He then flopped backwards against the sheets, flinging his arms out to grab both England and France around their middles and tug them close. He gave a fluttery sigh. "Man, being straight is awesome."
England met France's eyes over America's chest, but (wisely) chose not to argue.