Arthur Kirkland sat quietly in his sun-room, sipping a cup of tea and enjoying the relaxing view of the sunset. The day had been peaceful thus far but, alas, it was too good to be true. It was interrupted by a frantic knock followed by the ringing of his doorbell. The chime echoed through the empty corridor and Arthur sighed, setting down his teacup on the quaint table, and advanced towards the front hall. When he turned the corner, the faint sound of the door knob clicking alerted him that his unwanted visitor was about to enter. He prepared himself to punch Francis but an extremely zealous American burst through instead. The home invader was none other than Alfred Jones, the personification of America. Arthur felt one of his bright-green eyes start to twitch as he scowled up at the hulking man, who was now jumping up and down in excitement.
"Iggy! Iggy! Iggy!" Alfred cried between each bounce, sending a chill down the shorter man's back at the use of his least favorite nick-name.
"You git, I told you not to call me that! Call me by my name!" Arthur huffed, placing his hands on his hips much like a woman would, causing the immature man to snicker. Arthur ran one of his small, pale hands through his sandy brown locks, whose brightness was only rivaled by that of the one who was now doubled over in laughter at his display of femininity. Arthur sighed quietly, the corners of his petal pink lips tugging upwards.
"Phoo… ah ha ha ha…" the American let out a breathy laugh, clutching his aching sides. "So, Artie—"he tried to begin another sentence but stopped short when he saw the death glare Arthur was giving him.
"THAT'S NOT MY NAME!" The smaller nearly screeched, his thick eyebrows furrowing together over the bridge of his small nose. Somehow it seemed like everything on him was small.
"Urm… Alright… Arthur?" The American slowly asked, his cheeks taking a hint of blush. "I was wonderin'… do ya' wanna' come to my b-day party? I mean, ya' don't have to if ya' don't want to…"He trailed off his string of broken English. The smaller tried not to yell at him for his horrible pronunciation, holding his tongue for now.
"WHY IN BLOODY HELL WOULD I GO TO YOUR PARTY?!"Arthur snapped, tears welling up in his eyes at the memory of Alfred leaving him.
"Whoa! What's wrong?" Alfred exclaimed, rather loudly, and grabbed the smaller's shoulders.
"D-don't touch me you git!" Arthur struggled, red-faced, in the American's grasp. He slipped out and wiped desperately at the tears that spilled mercilessly over his flushed cheeks. He held back the flood of memories from that rainy field, cursing himself for not stopping the dense American in front of him.
"What the-? Are you crying?!" the American gasped, looking surprised. "You really act like a girl you know…" He turned his head to the side, blushing.
"I'm not a bloody girl!" The Briton mumbled, too ashamed of his tears to yell anymore. He looked down at the floor and let the tears fall freely. His teary emerald orbs suddenly brightened and he licked is lips nervously. "Would a girl do this?" he exclaimed boldly and grasped the collar of the American's over-sized bomber jacket, pulling him into a kiss. Ironically the fireworks at Alfred's birthday party started to go off and could be seen in the background, across the Atlantic Ocean. (Yes. The fireworks were really that bright. Maybe… in my mind… eh.) When they broke apart, Arthur gasping for air, Alfred was staring blankly at him, obviously surprised, his cheeks slowly darkening.
"Um…" Alfred trailed off, his jaw going slack. He slowly opened and closed his mouth a couple times before starting his sentence. "In America, yeah…" he answered somewhat cautiously. Arthur frowned before pulling him down again and kissing him again, his eyelids fluttering shut in happiness. He released him and backed into the hallway, attempting to shove him out the door and failing. Alfred pushed his way back inside, pressing the Brit against the door and putting his head next to him. "You're makin' it real hard to resist you when you act so cute." He whispered in his ear, the owner of which was blushing deeply. "Mmm… I wonder what I should do now that I got'cha trapped…" he mused, making the smaller man squirm in his grip. Arthurs pale hands pushed feebly against the American's nicely formed pectoral muscles. The American's head slowly dipped down towards the pale neck of the Briton before placing his lips on it, causing the Briton to gasp. Arthur tilted his head away from the American's touch, exposing the rest of his neck. Alfred took it as a sign to continue and kissed down to the base of his neck before retracing his path with his tongue. The smaller man bit his lip to hold back the noises he was making. The American paused and pulled back, drinking in the sight of the 'English gentleman' that he so easily disheveled, and removing his glasses. Arthur let go of his abused lip and opened his eyes just as Alfred kissed him roughly, pressing him to the door. The tongue that had pleasured Arthur's neck now traced his bottom lip, nearly begging for entrance, and he let him in. Alfred was surprised that he had gained entrance to the sweet mouth of his former caretaker and traced its contours hungrily. He stroked Arthur's tongue with his own, urging it to life. The Brit's mouth tasted, unsurprisingly, like tea and honey. Alfred pulled away and picked up the tiny man and carried him into said man's room, already knowing the way as it was his former home.
"What are you doing?!"Arthur cried as he was flung onto the oh-so-familiar sheets, his arms flailing as he landed, with a 'manly' squeal, on his back. He sprung up, in more ways than one, when the blonde man began to rummage through his nightstand, tossing out various objects like his favorite eros novel. There was an exclamation from the American and he hid his prize, sauntering towards the Brit in an almost predatory manner.
"I wasn't gon' do much," The larger of the two leaned down towards the smaller man, removing his glasses and setting them on the same nightstand he had dug through. "Just ravish my cute li'l English gentleman." The green-eyed man beneath him gasped and then shivered when he felt his shirt ripped apart by the impatient man pressing their lips together heatedly.
"Th-that was a new shirt, b-bloody idi-AH!" England cried out when America pinched one of his hardened nipples, an extremely sensitive area on the small man. Astounded, Alfred quickly moved his head downwards, leaving dark marks in his wake. He licked a nipple experimentally, earning a high-pitched keen, and then proceeded to suckle on it, biting slightly, which was rewarded with a satisfying, and sexy, moan.
"Didn't think ya' would like dat so much, you remind me of a dessert." He gave the cherry red nub another languid lick, relishing in the way his gentleman arched off the sheets, pressing his erection into the American's clothed stomach. "Almost forgot about this part," Alfred slowly snaked one of his large hands down to cup the stiff bulge, rubbing the package. He made quick work of the Brit's pants, tossing them onto the growing pile of clothing on the floor.