Title: It's Just More Satisfying That Way ;)
Rating: Light M Warnings: strong suggestive themes, human names used, cursing)
Author: H.A.J.K. 2.00 Beta: Sexyscholar (my mommy :D)
Disclaimer: If I owned Hetalia, it would be WAY more perverted then it is now.
Summary: An America/England fanfiction I had a dream about! *Beats head with a book* Bad brain, bad! Also contains England/Canada, but probably not for long. :)
*~*~*England slammed against the headboard of the bed and he arched his back to accommodate the pain of what he knew would become a bruise. America kissed him feverishly, planting hot kisses on every exposed bit of skin he could reach as England shifted his position so that he could curl his fingers into the nape of America's blond hair. America bit hard on England's collarbone, causing the older man's breath to hitch in his throat.
America smirked against the skin. "A little masochistic, Iggy?" He ran his tongue over the bright red mark he'd made on England's chest. England responded by gripping hard on the hair in his grasp, and America tilted his head up to give the other man a coy look. "What?" he asked innocently.
"You're wearing too many clothes - it's not fair like this." England muttered. He tugged off America's jacket and tossed it off in the vicinity of somewhere before beginning to make quick work of his buttoned shirt. America appeared to be stunned at the rush his colonizer was in, but he let him continue and shrugged off the shirt when it was undone. England moved to undo his own shirt, but America stopped him.
"I want to do it," the younger nation said as he slowly popped the buttons with a care he hadn't shown before, kissing skin as it was revealed. When he was finished, America leaned back, admiring his work. England glanced at him - his green eyes meeting America's self-satisfied blue ones - then blushed and looked away.
"What are you staring at, idiot?" he asked, his hands tightening in the sheets.
"Nothing. I just wish you could see yourself right now." America grinned. "You're so...anxious, aren't you?"
England's flush deepened. He could only imagine how he looked: his honey-blond hair in disarray, his shirt splayed open revealing his chest, eyes dark with lust - there was no hiding how badly he wanted the brash American...but he had to try. "Shut up, Alfred," he muttered, rolling his eyes.
Alfred flashed another smile, and lightly ran his hands down England's sides, applying pressure to the other man's sensitive areas and making him short of breath.
"You twit! Stop with your teasing alrea-"
"Hmm?" Alfred slid his fingers beneath the waistband of Arthur's pants and gripped the belt, using it to pull Arthur forward and whispered in the older nation's ear, "What did you say, England? I didn't quiet catch it."
Arthur could only manage a strangled-sounding moan as a response. He thrust his hips up into the other man's hold, hoping for more friction, only to be denied when Alfred released him. He fell back on the bed and groaned in frustration - he was in no mood for America's games.
Alfred, insufferably, only shrugged and smiled again. "I'm sorry - did you want something, Arthur?" He continued his tease, crawling in between said man's legs and setting his hands on his thighs, spreading his legs farther apart. "I won't know if you don't tell me anything."
"You know bloody well what I want! Now...just do it already before I change my mind about this whole thing, you prat!" Arthur's body practically screamed for Alfred's attention, and he worried that he really might explode if he didn't do something - anything - soon.
"Well then, I guess we better get to it!" Alfred said with a wild grin and making quick work of both of their clothes before flipping Arthur onto his stomach. After they were undressed, save for their shorts, Alfred leaned over England's shoulder and whispered in his ear, "You ready?"
"Just get on with it, bloody git!" England replied through clenched teeth. The pads of Alfred's fingers pressed tighter on his hips and he balled his fists into the sheets. Arthur hissed softly when the other man kissed a small patch of skin between his shoulder blades, and he felt himself begin to relax...
*~*~*
"...and that's usually how it goes." England took a deep breath before turning to look at Canada. His boyfriend, Canada. The other nation was quiet for a few moments, and then finally said, "I'm not America, I'm Canada."
"Well yes, I know-"
Canada's voice, initially calm, began to rise steadily. "I'm Canada. And we're dating. We've been dating for four months now!" "Of course I know that. It was only a dream, love..." England pressed his palm to the other man's forehead.
Canada snatched England's hand away and rose to his feet. "How can you be so calm about this?" The usually genteel nation was shouting now. "You just told me that you just told me that every time we have sex you think of my brother and not me!" Canada jabbed his index finger at his own chest.
England frowned. "That is not what I said. I said-"
"Well, maybe not in so many words - but that's what you meant!"
Arthur looked at his boyfriend standing over him and sighed. "Perhaps...I suppose it is."
"But why? Why would you want him when you have me? I'm bigger then America! And I'm nicer! A-and I don't go around bugging about being the "hero" all the time! I'm so much better than he is! How could you be attracted to him?"
England didn't have an answer to that question. He simply folded his hands in his lap instead.
Canada folded his arms across his chest and turned away. "If you want him so much, why are you with me?" The nation was quiet again - he sounded small. And sad.
"Well. I. That is..." Arthur sighed. "Realistically? I don't know, Mathieu."
Canada's arms fell back to their sides. He looked utterly defeated. "You should leave, Arthur. There's no reason for you to be here anymore, is there?" England nodded. "No. I suppose there isn't." He stood up, brushed a few now-existent wrinkles from his jacket, took one last look at Mathieu and then left the house. Once outside, he jammed his hands into his pockets and took a deep breath of cold Ontario air, releasing it in a long hiss of vapor as he walked to his car. How could you be attracted to him?
As Arthur sat alone in his freezing car, he rolled Mathieu's question around in his mind. His...former lover had a point: America was a right prat. He was brash and arrogant and reckless and selfish and outright fool. Why would he want someone like that?
"I don't even have an answer for myself. How pitiful." He turned the key, started up the car and headed for the airport...for home. England always thought better at home. "Yes," he said to himself aloud. "I'll spend some time at home. Clear my head and sort this all out. Surely that's all I need. A stay at home, a book, and a proper cup of tea. That will be lovely."
*~* Yay! It's all done! Poor Canada, I still love you! I hoped you like it and I'll probably have more chapters in the future, so favorite this! And Reviews, I like those to! :D - H.A.J.K. 2.00 *~*