Sorry, I ended up distracted the last couple of weeks and I just forgot to edit and post these. I'll try to get them up faster. Here are the next two chapters.
America sat under the large apple tree. It was around midday and the sun was beating down on anyone stupid enough to go outside. Since England was off to some meeting. America had chosen not to go with him. After the last one he knew he would get bored pretty quickly.
Instead the colony focused on working on the garden. But with how hot it was getting, it was time to rest. Maybe wait a few hours and see if things got cooler before starting again. He covered his eyes to keep the sun out. But soon enough America was sure he heard something. It could be just one of the workers passing by. But then someone coughed.
He pulled his hand back to see who it was. In an instant America had jumped to his feet. Sadly the woman before him and the tree to his back blocked his path. Something kept telling him to leave. America was sure that England suspected he had seen France before she had arrived to see him. He hated lying to England about those things.
He didn't want to hate about this too. Plus England had sounded like France wasn't someone she should be around. He never sounded like he had anything good to say about his fellow European nation.
But then something else was pulling America closer, keeping him there from leaving. It was a hint of interest. He rarely had the opportunity to meet with others like him. It was a rare opportunity that may as well not present itself again.
In the end it all came down to the fact if it was worth it or not, to talk to France against England's wishes. America looked at the country right in the eye. Not daring to turn away. England always said it was unwise to give your back to a possible enemy. His people had been at war with her own people. Right now she could easily be one.
"Don't be afraid, I wouldn't dream of hurting you." France's hand went up. Long elegant fingers touched the side of his face, they were warm and soft. For someone reason America didn't flinch away from the touch. Maybe he'd been distracted by the accent and tone of her voice.
France seemed happy with his reaction or the fact he hadn't pushed her away at least. She moved her fingers back, only to replace them with the back of her hand. The hand trailed down his face, then moved down to his neck. She used the other one to trace the other side of America's face.
Her eyes drifted to up and down as she took him in. "When I first came to this land, I said that the personification would hopefully be as lovely and worthy. "I'm happy to say that it is so."
America's face heated up instantly, both because of her words and her closeness. He could smell her perfuse, exotic to him. So different from how England smelled. Feel her breath against his skin. He could even feel the warm from her body.
America tried to regain his voice, trying to ignore how close she was. "Wh…what are you doing?" He stuttered. America tried to look away from France. The way she looked at him made him more nervious and he was afraid he would make more of a fool of himself.
There was a small chuckle right beside his ear. France had noticed the way America's face was now a bright colorful shade of red. America tried to avoid her eyes, her face. Those pink lips nearing his skin.
"There is no need to be shy?" the accent was deeper down. But there was something behind that tone. One he'd heard when some of the less proper women in town talked to the men they liked. When they wanted to sound more….seductive to them or so John had explained.
This realization only made America blush harder. Why would France want to seduce him? "I do wonder if you have ever gotten close to a woman or even another man? By the way you are blushing now. I'm going to take a wild guess and say, no." There was another suckle, softer this time.
The hand on his neck moved down his back. She did it slowly, almost teasingly. It was in the same way she had trailed down his face before, but now she was trailing down his spine. "There is no need to be shy around me?" She said something else, but this time in French. America had no idea what it meant. But for some reason it made him shiver. Maybe it was just because it sounded foreign to his ears.
America had always liked when England spoke in other languages. Usually he only did it when he read to him. With time America would be forced to learn other languages. But for the ones he had learned, French had not been one of them.
There was one finally chuckle from France before she pulled back from him. There was a devious smirk on her face. America thought she was going to do something else. But the other only stepped further away. "You are too cute."
There was no way America was cute. Children were cute and he was not a child. But before he could protest, France once more had moved to claim his mouth in a kiss. But unlike the first time that night. This was not a small peck, but a full on kiss. America didn't even know how she had managed to sneak her tongue inside his mouth.
It was his first kiss. It never felt right to see his own people in such a light. Not even when the opportunity had presented itself, America had been able to do it. It just felt wrong to him. England always kissed him on the head, Canada kissed his cheek and he didn't have contact with anyone else.
When France pulled back America was looking at her, eyes open wide. She licked her lips before turning around. With a small wave she began to walk back to where she'd come from. She probably had a carriage or horse waiting for her somewhere.
America covered his mouth. He could still feel the soft lips there. He could still taste her. It was a sweet taste and there was even a small hint of wine. It was like nothing he had experienced before. He felt warm and he was sure the heat outside had nothing to do with it.
That night he went directly to his room. He couldn't even look at England in the eye without feeling some sense of shame for what had happened. He knew he should tell England about it, the fact that France was still around. But how could he do it? How to explain it without mentioning what had happened. He couldn't say that, no way. England couldn't find out what had happened.
Once he was in bed, he remembered he hadn't eaten anything since that morning. He was hungry, but going downstairs to eat meant seen England. He wasn't sure how long he could keep it to himself. America knew he couldn't avoid England forever. In truth he wanted to be around him.
But maybe after the night passed his nerves would have calmed down. He would be able to forget the encounter. He would forget the feeling of those touches and finally the kiss.
America groaned. Thinking about it wasn't helping at all. It only made him feel embarrassed to be even thinking about such a thing. He felt warm and slightly uncomfortable inside his pants. America covered his eyes once more. Not believing this was happening to him.
England didn't need America to say anything. He'd been troubled when America had skipped dinner. He had even dropped by his room to ask if anything was wrong. But when he looked inside America was already asleep. It wasn't normal for America to miss anything related to food. But then maybe he was full. It wasn't rare for America to sneak some snacks before eating.
But then his magical friends arrived and told him what had happened that day. At first England couldn't respond. But then every other emotion inside him was over powered by anger.
He couldn't believe what his friends were telling him. But they were creatures of light, pure and kind. They couldn't lie about such a thing. They didn't even have reasons to lie. Once he came to that conclusion, he only ended even more upset.
But he should have known. He should have guessed what that vile woman wanted. She wanted his beloved America. France would never change. But England wasn't going to let her get to America. France had taken things from him. But America was the one thing. He would never let her have.
But then he needed to think of a way to keep her away from America. He knew that once France wanted something, once it was connected to seduction and love, she could get it. She wouldn't stop it until she archived her goals.
The best option was to find a way to keep America from France. But how could he? An idea crossed his mind for a moment. But England tried to shake it away.
He had started to notice the way America had grown. It wasn't just his body growing. But also he was different in other ways. It was almost like he wasn't that small colony of his anymore. He didn't like thinking about to. Growth usually meant colonies wanted to gain their independence. They wanted to break away from their mother country.
England couldn't bear to think of America doing that, leaving him. "But if America loves you, then he won't want to leave you." England gasped. He hadn't even noticed he had said it out loud.
"I can't." England was nothing like France. She was the one who thought about seducing an innocent colony. 'But then America wasn't an innocent little colony. He'd grown. England remembered that age. Soon he would seek others out. Search for the pleasures of the skin.
He was sick. How could he think those things? America wouldn't do that. True, England had been away for a long time. But he was sure he had given America good examples.
He knew it in the end it came down to the fact that it would be France or him.
England preferred it to be him than her. At least he knew he would never hurt America. France would once she found another toy. She had done it in the past.
England knew it from experience.
England hated himself. This was wrong. It had sounded like an almost good idea at first. England couldn't believe he had agreed to try and seduce America. But then he was doing it to keep him away from France. As much as he was against doing it, he was much more against France getting her hands on America.
That was the only reason why he wanted to do it.
England knew he was lying to himself. It was something he hated to admit. But he couldn't deny it forever. America was handsome, very attractive. Even without France around, something told him he would have done something similar. Maybe he would have waited to do it for far longer. Or maybe he would have kept those feelings to himself.
But the fact that France was showing too much interest meant he had to move fast. England walked towards America's room. He was ready to knock, but something kept him from doing. His consciousness still wouldn't let him.
America no matter how attractive he was. Into what sort of man he grew was still his colony. His job was to protect America. It wasn't to try and seduce him. That was wrong. He wasn't France or Spain.
Could he really go through with it? Could England really have something with his own colony? England didn't think he could. It wasn't something unusual. Colonizers had fallen for their colonies and vice versa. England still wasn't sure he could do it.
He also feared the fact that America would hate him if he found out what England wanted to do. America could return his feelings. But then America could also be disgusted by the idea. Did America view him as a sort brother or just a mentor?
Then there were England's own feelings. He'd been taken back by America's grow. It was impossible to look at him in the same way he did that small colony. England never referred to America as a brother because of his bad relationship with his actual brothers. But he still remembered that small colony. How could he look at America as his colony and as a man?
"England?" America opened his door, only to find England standing there. America had to admit that England had been acting weird lately. Sometimes he would even avoid America.
America couldn't deal with all the weirdness going around. First France had tried to seduce him and the England went around avoiding him. It gave him a headache just thinking about it. Maybe there was something wrong with the food and water back in Europe. All they were all going crazy with age.
It didn't make it better that it hurt America to think that England would avoid him. England was important to America. He always waited with anticipation for his visits. Now that he was here England wanted to ignore him.
America started to believe England knew of his lie and was angry with him. Guilt was slowly eating away at him. He didn't know for how long he would be able to go without confessing. Maybe if he said something England would go back to talking to him.
But then maybe England was upset over something else. If America did say something, England would really hate him. Once more the headache was back. America never had a need to think things over so much. Usually he just went with whatever his gut told him. Right now it was as confused as he was.
England opened his mouth to talk, but instead he turned around and walked away. With a sight America closed his door. He needed a drink.
America went to search for his human friend. John sat across from his not talking until America as done talking. Finally America finished explained what had happened in the past few days.
"So you are upset because a beautiful woman tried to seduce you?" John shook his head, not understanding what was wrong with that. He probably would have given everything for a woman to give him a second glance.
America frowned. It wasn't like that at all. "E…Arthur hates her. They don't get along at all. If he finds out I even spoke to her, I'm dead."
John didn't know England that well. Last time England had visited him, John was only 4 years old. Now it had been over 12 years. But he had heard many stories from America to know of England's dislike for the French.
Yet the colonists were not as crazy about the French. They were after all also part of the Empire, British men and women. They had fought the French and if needed would fight them again.
"Maybe it's best if you talk to Arthur." America thought this over. He preferred England finding about it from him than anyone else. Maybe John had a point.
"I guess."
America stayed out of the house until nightfall. At least he was grateful for the fact he hadn't crossed paths with France again. When he walked inside the help were gone already. England wasn't in the first floor, which meant he was either out or in his room.
America knocked and opened without waiting for a reply. England was sitting on the bed. His shirt was off and it looked like he was tending some injury. "England…"
The Empire turned around to look at America. "Come in lad." America nodded and walked inside. England picked his nightshirt, putting it on.
"I saved you some food."
"I already ate." John's parents had invited him for supper. He liked their food and it gave America more time to think.
"Is there something you want?" America noticed the way England wasn't looking at him. It hurt a lot more he would ever be willing to admit.
"I—I lied to you." England finally turned to fully take a good look at America. "I met France in a pub the day I went with you to that meeting. Then I saw her again, a day go. But I didn't search for her."
When America looked up again, England was standing in front of him. When his hand moved up America flinched, expecting a smack or something like that. But instead England polled him into a hug. "Thank you."
"You aren't mad?"
England's hold tightened. "I am, but not at you."
When England pulled away he noticed how close they were. America was now the same height as he was, even slightly taller. Their noses in their closeness almost touched. Both their faces heated up as they stepped back.
"Can I stay with you tonight?" It had been a while since America had slept with England. England seemed to think this over for a moment, but ended up blushing even more than before.
"I don't think that's a good idea." America's face fell.
"I guess I should leave for my room then." America turned around. He was too big for such a thing anyway. He didn't even know why he had asked.
England watched America leave. He wished he could have said yes. He hated to look at America and not see a smile on that face. America's smile was one of the few things he always looked forward to the most. It hurt him to think he was the reason why that smile disappeared.
But he couldn't say yes to that request. Deep inside he wanted to accept. But how much control he would have with America so close. Just having America close made him wonder how good it could be to kiss those soft lips.
England sat back on his bed. He needed to sleep it off. Hopefully tomorrow he would finally receive his order. He had made sure that it would be there as soon as possible. He was looking forward to giving it to America. He was sure they would fit him well.
When America woke up the next morning England was nowhere to be found. He probably had received an important message or something. England never disturbed America when he had to leave early. As a child America had hated it when England wouldn't do it.
Mainly he would do it because his ships always left in the early hours of the morning and it would mean America didn't have a chance to say goodbye. America then began to find ways to wake up just before England could sneak away.
It was almost suppertime when England was finally back and called for him. "America?"
America had been upstairs looking over some books. Because England's stay he had been ignoring home of his work. His tutor wouldn't be happy and would only make America work even more. Once he was done with the daily activities, he decided to try and get at least something done.
It wasn't working that well. He kept thinking about other things and not what he was reading. He heard England's steps as he walked closer. England first sneaked his head inside to make sure America was there. "I have something for you."
'Huh?' England only brought gifts when he arrived. He brought them from his own country or some of the other colonies. Rarely did he buy anything for him while he stayed with America. When he bought anything it was to take back with him.
America didn't need to be told twice. A gift was a gift. Though he was prepared for what England had for him. A suit. America looked at the garment over and over. While England brought him clothes. It had been a while since he had worn anything so fancy. He used to dress like that as a child. But now he preferred simpler clothes that weren't as stuffy.
"This is…too fancy for me." It wasn't him at all.
"Don't be silly, it fits you perfectly." England walked around America, inspecting the clothes. "You look like a proper gentleman now. Plus you should dress properly. You are the personification of this land. When you are with me and others, you have to look your best."
"I guess I can use it for fancy occasions." Not that he attended that many. But hopefully he would only need to wear it when England visited. It would make England happy and that was worth it.
