The silence weighed heavily on the two nations facing each other. England felt his eye twitch again as he watched America starting on his second soft serve vanilla ice cream cone. The young nation's eyes were narrowed in concentration as he began licking the sides of the cone. He seemed to be very methodical about the way he was eating it. He was getting vanilla ice cream all over his face, which was red and slick with sweat. It kind of looked like...
England blinked and felt himself starting to blush. What was he thinking? It was just ice cream, and America's face was only like that because it was so hot out! And-
Oh no, now he was sucking on it. It was a fairly tall ice cream cone, but he had somehow managed to fit the entire thing in his mouth. His eyes were closed and it was clear he was being very thorough with his tongue-
Stop it, England! he told himself, shaking his head. He just couldn't help but stare in a sort of fascination at the care America was giving that ice cream cone.
"Hey, England, why are you staring at me like that?"
America's question broke through England's thoughts. His eyes were their usual sparkling, innocent blue. There was also some ice cream dripping down his chin...
"Hey!"
England suddenly found himself staring straight into those huge orbs of blue. He quickly pulled back, startled. America laughed. "Dude, your face was hilarious!"
England's blush increased. "Shut up," he muttered.
America's grin faded. "What's wrong?" he asked, frowning.
"Nothing," was England's immediate reply. A worried look crossed America's face.
"Is it because I didn't get you an ice cream? Is that why you're upset?" he murmured guiltily. England shook his head, but the American was persistent.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he tried again. "You're face is really red-"
"So is yours!" England snapped. "And I'd say you're about as annoying as ever." America's frown deepened.
"That was uncalled for," he stated simply, adding in a pout for good measure.
Oh God, his face was just too much to bear. Pouting and red like that, with the creamy white stuff dripping down his cheeks... Images flashed before the Brit's eyes and he could feel his pants suddenly get tighter.
"U-Uh..." he stuttered, trying to force himself to look away. America narrowed his eyes in annoyance.
"Stop zoning out on me, dude," he whined.
"S-Sorry..." England replied quickly.
"You aren't sorry!"
"What? What do you mean I'm not sorry?"
"Well, you aren't."
"How the hell do you know?" England shouted.
Crossing his arms, America stated, "Well for one, you keep doing it. Seriously, what the hell, man?"
"Shut up!" England stepped forward and gave the other nation a well-deserved shove. As America fell backwards, he grabbed England's arm in reflex, pulling him down with him. Of course, due to the laws of physics and gravity, England landed on top of America.
They stared at each other in stunned silence. How cliché, England thought vaguely. However, he was a little distracted by America's expression to think properly.
His eyes were the widest England had ever seen, unhampered by the glasses that had been tossed aside. The ice cream had also been dropped, and was now all over his shirt and neck. His mouth was moving and it was pretty obvious he was stuttering, but England couldn't process the words. Was America blushing? That was just too cute. England winced. His pants were seriously uncomfortable.
He suddenly remembered where they were and glanced around, wondering if he could try and pull something.
That's right, they were in New York city, outside of America's apartment building. They had gone outside because America wanted ice cream from that ice cream truck... Which reminded England, they should probably go back inside. People passing by were starting to stare. Besides, it shouldn't take that long to get up, drag America inside, and-
"Iggy! Hey!" America yelled, waving his hand in front of England's face. "Hey, you spaced out again, dude!"
"Wha... O-Oh, sorry," England mumbled. "And don't call me that," he hurriedly added in mild annoyance. America laughed nervously.
"C-Could you get off me?" he said. His voice seemed to be off by a few pitches.
"Of course." England stood up quickly and brushed himself off. America scrambled away, put on his glasses, and got to his feet in a single, swift movement. He was still laughing, but it sounded off. He was just too cute when he was nervous.
"That's it," England growled to himself.
"What's wha- hey!" England had suddenly grabbed America's wrist and was dragging him back inside the building. America was struggling, but the older nation was stronger than he looked. "H-Hey, you don't have to drag me, you know!"
"Shut up," England snarled, opening the door to America's apartment and shoving him inside, letting the door slam behind him.
America scratched his head and said hurriedly, "Look, I'm gonna go wash all this ice cream off, okay?" England shook his head and pushed America down onto the couch behind him. He shot England a confused look, but the Brit ignored it and proceeded to climb on top of him, making a sort of cage with his arms.
Blushing furiously, America choked out, "I-Iggy, wh... What d-do you think y-you're doing?" England leaned in close, letting his hot breath ghost over the American's neck.
"I thought I told you not to call me that," he whispered in mock anger. He could feel America's heart racing beneath him.
"Stop it..." America mumbled. "England, get off..."
Batting his eyes innocently, England replied, "You don't seem very sure of yourself." He stuck his tongue out just a tiny bit and began lapping up the sticky ice cream dripping slowly down the American's neck. The young nation jumped at the contact, his blush increasing.
"What are you doing?" he asked meekly, letting out a tiny squeak when he felt England's tongue on his cheek. He closed his eyes and repeated, "Stop." England pouted and moved back so they could look each other in the face.
"Why should I?" he asked, cocking his head to one side.
"Because I don't like it..." America said quietly.
"But I do," England purred, "and I do believe Texas is in the way." He carefully removed America's glasses and placed them on the coffee table, watching in delight as his expression changed from confusion to shock.
"England, what the hell?" he shouted. "Give me back my glasses!"
"No."
"But I can barely see!" America said, blinking furiously. "Everything's all blurry!"
"And?" England asked, raising an eyebrow. America huffed in frustration.
"And I can't see!" he repeated. Before he could say anything more, England pressed his lips forcefully to the American's. This startled America, making him open his mouth, which was as good as an invitation for England. He quickly slid his tongue into the other nation's mouth, exploring the wet cavern as thoroughly as he could. America froze completely, except for his already rapid heart beating faster.
When nothing stopped him from going further, England pushed his tongue into America's cheek to get it out of the way so he could nip the American's bottom lip. He smiled at the squeak he got in return and proceeded with his adventure in America's mouth.
Finally, the American seemed to come to his senses and pushed England off. He clutched at his chest, gasping heavily. His eyes were wide and fearful as he glanced around, his eyes foggy.
When his breathing had evened out a little, he mumbled, almost half-heartedly, "S-Stop... Stop it, E-England...!" He lay back, closing his eyes and covering his scarlet face with his arm. "Stop..."
England narrowed his eyes and moved America's arm back to his side. America looked up pleadingly. "England...?"
"America," England murmured, leaning in again, "it's okay." He kissed America again, this time softly. He pulled away after a short while and pushed America's bangs out of his face.
"England, please. Get off," America said. His commanding words almost lost their meaning altogether from the way his voice was shaking.
This made England smile deviously. "Not happening."
"Why not?"
England smirked. "Because I honestly don't care what you want right now." He began carefully unbuttoning America's shirt. America let out a little surprised squeal and made a grab for England's wrist, but missed. England chuckled. "Your hand-eye coordination is a bit off today."
"Just give me my glasses back," America whined. England ignored him and finished unbuttoning his shirt. There was more ice cream that had dripped down from his neck onto his chest.
"Looks like there's more cleaning up to do," England observed, grinning evilly. He bent over, letting his tongue slide all over America's chest, trailing over the paths of the white, sticky ice cream. When it was all gone, he settled for kissing down the American's stomach, smiling when he reached his naval. America's eyes widened in realization.
"England..." he breathed. "You're... You're not really going to..." He never got a response - England was too busy with his pants' zipper. America tried to push the older nation's arm away, but England's easily evaded it and continued.
"Just relax," he muttered. "Really, America, you're making this a lot harder than it has to be." He roughly pulled off the offending pants and slowly reached for America's boxers.
"B-But England-"
"Like I said," England whispered into America's ear, "relax."
He involuntarily took a deep breath before removing America's boxers and tossing them aside, impatient to see what treasures lay waiting.
"You get excited easily," England commented, smirking at the fully erect cock before him. America flushed and closed his eyes, tensing. England shrugged and gazed at the glorious sight a little longer, before deliberately reaching out and lightly touching the head. A sharp intake of breath was the only response he recieved from the American, so he decided to do something a little... More.
He ran his hand over America's length, making sure to make as little contact as possible. He chuckled when it got bigger. When he got tired of teasing, he simply grabbed it and gave it a squeeze.
"England!" America cried out, wincing. "Please...!" England rolled his eyes and began pumping. America gasped softly. "W-Why are y-you... Doing this...?"
"Because you're just too cute," England murmured, as if that explained everything. His hand movements sped up, making America squeeze his eyes shut and his toes curl. England chuckled darkly as his tongue began to burn for more action. He bent over and dragged it up America's cock at an infuriatingly low pace, noting as it got harder under his touch. When he reached the head, he took it in his mouth and made his way slowly back down again, engulfing the entire thing. America was moaning softly, his chest heaving. England swirled his tongue around, noticing how sensitive the other nation was to every movement he made. The Brit finally moved off, enjoying America's quiet cry as he did so.
"Did you like that?" he asked teasingly.
"S-Shut up..." America panted, his red face darkening to an unhealthy color.
England chuckled. "Would you like some more?" America quickly shook his head, mumbling something under his breath. "What was that?"
"You still have all your clothes on," America said quietly, avoiding the Brit's gaze. "It's unfair."
"Unfair?"
"Yeah."
"Well then..." England quickly unbuttoned his shirt and threw it away. "How's this?" America shrugged.
"Good, I guess... I mean, it's not like I can really see it..."
"I'm not giving you your glasses back," England interrupted. The American flinched.
"Well, it was worth a try," he muttered. "In any case, you've still got more clothes on than I do." England grinned as more images waltzed into his head.
"Very well then," he whispered seductively. "My pants were getting too tight anyway." He gave America a quick kiss before starting on his own pants. "Are you starting to enjoy this?" he asked as he slid them off. His erection was clearly visible through his underwear, and it kind of annoyed him that America couldn't see it. Oh well. His loss. He realized America had said something, but he completely missed it. "I'm sorry, what?"
America bit his lip, embarrassed. "I-I said, hurry up..." England smiled and kissed him on the forehead.
"All in good time," he breathed. "Don't you want this to last?" He put his hands on the inside of America's thighs and spread his legs.
America frowned. "Why do you get to top?"
Rolling his eyes, England answered, "Idiot. After the way you've been acting, there's now way I'd let you top; it would be humiliating. Besides..." He paused, chuckling. "I want to hear you scream." His chuckle changed to full-on laughter at America's terrified expression.
"Why are you trying to scare me?" America asked, pouting.
England waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, love. Now... Where were we?"
"Wait!"
"What is it now?" England asked, annoyed.
"You never took off your underwear," America pointed out.
England raised one ridiculous eyebrow in disapproval. "I don't need to. I shouldn't have to explain to you how male undergarments work, America."
"But you made me take off my boxers!"
"America-"
"Please?"
Sighing, England finally gave in. "Fine, fine, fine." He slipped off his boxers - which was a little difficult, considering the position they were in - and let them fall to the floor. Looks like I underestimated how hard I was, he thought, blinking in surprise. It really is a shame he can't see it...
"England! Hurry up!" America whined.
"You're so impatient," England replied. "You really should learn to savor the moment." America opened his mouth to retort, but England took that chance to stick three fingers in his mouth. "Suck," England commanded. America glared at him, but did as he was told - carefully coating each finger with saliva. A shiver went up England's back at the feeling, realizing that this one moment was probably a lot more enjoyable than it should have been.
When he finally pulled his hand away, America said, "You better have washed your hands recently."
"All the time, love," England assured smoothly. With practiced ease, he inserted one finger into America's entrance. The American winced.
"Do you... Do this a lot?" he asked, a slightly pained expression on his face. England chose not to answer that question. Instead, he turned his attention to a newfound problem: America was tight. Really tight.
"America," England asked, "have you ever done this before?"
"Eh?"
"Are you a virgin?" he stated, more than asked, bluntly. America's blush, which had mostly disappeared, returned with full force.
"I-I-I... That is..." He looked away, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Y... Y-Yes."
England smiled, a hungry glint in his eye. "No sex for two hundred years..." he purred. "Aren't you just the most innocent thing?"
"Shut up," America mumbled, for what felt like the fiftieth time that afternoon. England laughed.
"No, no, nothing to be ashamed of. I actually prefer it this way," he said, a sly tone entering his voice.
"Wh-" America started to ask, but was interrupted when England stuck a second digit inside him. He shut his eyes and bit his lip, drawing a little blood. Although he felt bad about it, England was actually getting some kind of sadistic pleasure from this. He began scissoring, enjoying the faces and little squeaks America was making.
"How many times do I have to say it?" England whispered. "Relax." America nodded, taking deep breaths.
Out of curiosity, England inserted a third digit. America's eyes shot open.
"England!" he choked out. "That really hurt!'
"Sorry," England muttered, rolling his eyes. Figuring America was prepared enough - and also considering how uncomfortable his erection was getting - he removed his fingers and positioned himself in front of America's entrance. "Are you ready?" he asked.
America nodded hesitantly. "Y-Yeah."
"It might hurt a bit at first," England warned.
"Quit stalling and do it already!"
"Your enthusiasm is so overwhelming, I might just have to go take a break and lie down..."
"Stop messing with me," America whined.
"Ah, but you're so fun to play with," England said sweetly.
"Get on with it, or I swear, I am flipping our positions," America threatened. England raised his hands in mock surrender.
"What a terrifying thought," he said sarcastically. "What ever would I do?"
With a frustrated snarl, America tackled him, pushing him onto his back and successfully switching their places. The American attacked him furiously with kisses and little nips on his neck at a fast pace. England just lay back and took it, waiting for a chance to strike.
When America finally paused for a moment, England met his wild gaze easily. "Hm, what to do...?" he mused, smiling. "Oh that's right, I remember now."
His hand flashed out and grabbed the American's cock, expertly stroking it. America gasped lightly and his eyes narrowed, his grip on the Brit's wrists weakening. England leaned up and finished it off with a deep kiss, making the pressure on his wrists disappear completely, creating an easy opening. He pushed the other nation off and onto his back again.
Green eyes sparkling humorously, England made himself comfortable between America's legs yet again, using his elbows to prop his chin up on the American's stomach. America just stared at him in disbelief, as if to ask, "Who are you?"
Instead, he asked defeatedly, "Why are you toying with me?"
"Because you respond so well," England replied silkily. "Now, where were we before your little, shall we call it, rebellion?" He smirked at America's blushing, angry face. "Oh yes, I was about to ravage you completely."
"You're beginning to sound like a sex-hungry pirate again..." America said quietly.
"Maybe I am," England suggested.
"That would explain a lot..." America muttered, rubbing his chin. He shook his head. "Whatever. England-"
"I'm on it," England interrupted with a devilish grin. America gave him a weary look, which quickly changed to a half-lidded, open-mouthed gaze when England reached for his cock yet again and began rubbing it gently. America moaned, flinching.
"S... Stop teasing...!" he gasped.
"How rude," England said mockingly. "Where are your manners?" He started rubbing harder.
America shut his eyes, his chest heaving. "P-Please..."
"Please what?"
"Fuck me, damn it!" America snarled.
England shrugged. "As you wish." Without another word, he put his hands on America's hip and plunged inside him. America cried out in pain, clenching his fists, but England barely noticed.
Oh, what a glorious feeling! America was so tight, engulfing him with such a close, all-encompassing warmth. No, warmth wasn't even close; it was more like a raging furnace. He moaned loudly at the heat, bucking his hips. America gasped, tears dotting the edges of his wide eyes.
"E-Eng... Nngh...!" he stammered, overwhelmed with pleasure as England gave him another thrust.
"Cute," England murmured. He pounded into America, unable to hold back anymore. He had never felt such a wondrous thing before and it was all he could do to stop himself from drawing blood. Suddenly, America let out a strangled scream and he tensed, his body tightening involuntarily.
"Ah, so that's your sweet spot," England said with a hungry grin. He angled himself and slammed into America's prostrate, causing the American to cry out again.
"Nn... E-England, d... Do that a-again," America moaned, gritting his teeth.
"Very well," England replied. He couldn't believe his voice was still steady.
He pulled out slightly before plunging in again. His thrusts became progressively faster and faster with the desire for friction. He needed the feel of something, someone - he needed America moving against him, creating that battle of friction.
Sweat poured down his face and he felt himself getting closer to release. America's various moans and cries filled his ears, resonating like music. He wished he could record it on a CD and listen to it over and over. He was so, so close...
"A-Ah!" America let out a high-pitched cry as he finally let go and released. Cum got all over both of them, but they barely noticed in their heated ecstasy.
"Oh G-God, America...!" England muttered shakily, finding it hard to speak without stuttering. He clenched his teeth as his vision went white and he came deep inside of America. Panting heavily, he pulled out and flopped down on top of the exhausted American.
They lay together, their hearts pounding and their breathing uneven. When they had both calmed down a little, America said breathlessly, "That... That was..." He shook his head. "England, you're a pervert."
"But you enjoyed my pervertedness, did you not?" England cooed with that devious smirk of his. America blushed and nodded very slowly. The Brit laughed and gave him a sweet, chaste kiss.
"So..." America said after a few moments of silence. "Can I have my glasses back now?"
And that, ladies and gentleman, was my first lemon. Plenty more where that came from~
Reviews and critique are highly appreciated! ^^