Someone kill me now please, no what just kidding, not yet. Anyway, I know I've been an updating machine and hopefully I can get another chapter of Who's the man of page 47? up. Yeah, I have a chapter ready to go, we can do that!
I don't own anything.
"You could say he was in love with me," Arthur said fondly spinning his napkin on the table timidly, "but I was an empire…and he was…he was a new country, who use to be my colony. There was no way I would even consider someone like him, and he knew that. So from the beginning he was on a mission to expand and become stronger."
Alfred watched the older as he peeked up with a strange shine in his green eyes. The Englishman ducked back to his napkin when he found the taller staring at him with interest.
"His imperialistic movement was most noticeable, and leader after leader wanted to claim more land for him. Canada fell with his help. He'll never admit it, but he knows he caused it, he knows he killed his own brother. World War I came a long and he joined in quickly, he wanted to prove he could fight as well."
Arthur sighed a bit, peeking up at Alfred again, find him strangely silent. He glanced down at his hands, part of him hopping Kiku could pull of explaining everything to the others. They wouldn't question anything that America did, but that didn't mean they would believe it.
"His help was much needed, and greatly appreciated. I guess you could say that was where we started things off again. We talked more, saw each other more. Of course the war drained everyone in Europe and I was the only one who wasn't going to get a come back.
"He saw that, and slowly I started living under him." Arthur paused, glancing at the ketchup bottle in the basket on their table. "We did love each other, at first. We did things because we were in love, but he got bigger and I just got smaller and smaller compared to him. I got boring to him, just a colony and nothing else, so he made something else out of me."
"A personal sex slave, I take it." Alfred said, speaking for the first time since they had arrived at the little restaurant.
Arthur hesitated, but nodded eventually. "Y-yes, and soon I was nothing but that. That was after the Second World War. After that war, he wasn't the same person I remembered, and I wasn't the person he saw before either."
"So you just sit there and take it." Alfred asked angrily, glaring at some of the wall decorations, causing Arthur to smile. "The Arthur I know would fight back."
"I would to, if I could. To scrap a government out of nothing, then let alone face America, it's just a bloody death wish." Arthur stressed firmly and awkwardly, "Besides America wants me around, other wise I would have become a state and faded away."
Alfred wasn't taking that for an answer, hell if he had done the impossible than sure as hell Arthur could to. "I did it and he did it too." Arthur blinked at him. Sure America broke away knowing nothing and he was standing tall as a nation, but that was different. "Look I have a coffee mug at home that says 'Failure isn't an option.'"
"Are you advising I take advice from coffee mugs?" Arthur said confused.
"What? No!" Alfred stammered quickly. "Some guy at NASA said it and they put it on a cup. Anyway the fact is, do you really choice to fail or does it just happen?" Alfred leaned back in the booth wondering where the hell he came up with that, but he was happy to see Arthur sitting in thought.
America never liked Hungary, really. Sure she was a nice girl and things, but she liked to know what was going on in relationships, or things of that nature. She was no different in this world, only for the fact that she knocked on his hotel door and wanted to know exactly what he was planning. Apparently Japan saw the two interact in the hall and let something slip, well now Hungary was at his door, smiling widely.
"Oh, I just want to peek in on the room, please." She had said her foot keeping the door from closing as she peeked her head in. "Oh, you really don't strike me as the kind of guy who uses rose pedals."
"Hollywood," He grins out with annoyance as he once again tries to send her away. "Cheesey romance, you know stuff like that. Now can you leave, I'm not done yet."
"You are not free from me yet, Alfred F. Jones." She proclaims before removing her foot and causing him to crash the door closed.
America groans, he has everything an idiot would need to get England in bed with him. However the whole preparation had not made him as he so wished. Surely this America would wonder has he placed each pedal with care, he would wonder and swipe England away as fast as he could. However, America was different.
He needed England between his legs, sucking him off, swallowing his whole load. He needed England in some maid uniform, begging for mercy, but loving everything he got. He needed the sight of England doing everything he told him, while he said back and enjoyed the view. He needed images of England working everything he could to please his master.
He smiled when it worked, his pants grew tighter and the need for this night grew more and more healthy with each second. He glances at the clock. If England was coming, and only if, he would have surely passed Hungary who waved about a clue and walked away. He smirks and lounges back in the only chair in the room.
Minutes roll by, as to images of the wonderful things his sex slave had done to please him. The door knocked, and again America smiled. Fish always take the bait no matter how big or little.
"Coming!" He tries to sound rushed, no doubt it was something the America of this world would do. He opens the door in a semi graceful manner, opening it to England, who glances at him strangely as he walked in. "You came!"
"You just have a better good way of make it up to me." Arthur said glaring, his green eyes watching as America's hand closes the door and slips of it.
America smiles bitter-sweetly, and makes a causal advancement towards the English nation. Gently tilting his head just so, he claims his lips, knowing he has to convince this England into bed, but then…well it would go from there. To his luck the man response quickly, pressing his body towards the other with a smile on his lips as America crams his tongue in with little permission.
England pulls away slowly, salvia trying to keep the two connected. "Alfred," America's brow twitches but he smiles through it all, "we just did it four days ago." America swept over his mouth again, slowly pushing the smaller nation to the wall for extra support. England pulled away again, "do you really think we should—ah~!"
America grinds his hip and the older withers at the action. "Hush, I'm making it up to you right?" he said devilishly. England nods in a lusty hazy, America knows this is all too easy.
They clash together, America ripping England's shirt, while the man works his buttons. America's on his neck and England press more against him, trying to give him the best angle as his shirt slides to the floor. America grinds their hips together and England gasps like the dirty whore he became for him. He fumbles with the island's pants, but works the belt off and fumbles with the buttons and zipper.
They fall on the bed when their in nothing but underwear. It clear the America is more erect that England, but he's body is that of a teenager, England won't question him. America pins England's arms over his head, the Englishman is too much focusing on the feeling of America's tongue on his skin. The American smiles as he whips off the other's underwear, smiling on the other's skin. England gasp at the change, bucking a bit, but America pins him down.
With one had, he works off his boxers just enough. He spreads England's legs, smiling darkly. He played well enough to get him there, now it was time for the truth.
Thrusting into England he gasps, his England isn't so tight around him; he's not this pleasurable so soon. England however screams in pain, and America quickly covers his mouth before the other starts to lecture and whine about the fact he didn't prepare him for anything. Truth was, it had fallen out of habit for him, beside this was just to pleasure America, not both. England bites his tongue when America waited very little time and started his thrusting rhythm.
He releases England's mouth glaring, but covering it quickly with his hand. He can taste blood, so without warning he thrust harder and the green eyes widen and tears leak from the corners. America smiles, yes all too easy indeed.
To humor England, he hit his sweet spot, but the man's in too much pain for one hit to take it off his mind. The smaller struggles, but it to no avail, America is stronger, always has been and always will be, no matter what world. Eventually England glares and America laughs.
"Oh, please I had no wishes of pleasuring you tonight," he says watching as the trust, the feeling in the green eyes break, he smiles. "You're just a simple toy to me, England, don't look so offended. Last I checked, you didn't mind this at all." He's close to his release and he knows it. Smiling he leans closer to the Englishman's ear, chuckling slightly at the muffled shouts and curses. "Curse America all you like, love, but know this, I'm not your America." He comes, hard, retreating back to see the green eyes and pale body have become still.
America rides out his orgasm before pulling out, laughing at the pitiful sight before him. He pulls up his boxers and starts with his other clothes. England is still just laying there when he grabs his room key and wallet.
"I think I'll go for a walk," he said cheerily. He turns to England, "be gone when I get back," it comes out flat and cold. He whistles as he walks towards the door. "Oh and if you tell anyone anything, you will regret it." He opens the door and walks out with little more said.
"Failure is not an option...but it is surely an outcome." Yes, I know that is usually used as a joke, but it's true, so why not make a meaning out of it. I don't think people ever choice to fail and you only fail once you tried. That explains what Alfred was trying to tell the AU!England. Oh, and my mom has that mug at home, sometimes I use it for Ice cream, but I mostly use the Canada mugs or neighbor got us.
Hopefully someone saw the evilness America was going to do to Arthur. Of course America knew how to play him. I figured that would be a twisted way for America to tell Arthur he wasn't Alfred...but it still means trauma when Alfred somehow gets back. :D, you know it! Anyway that scene explains itself.
Please RxR, or else...(-insert some kind of threat here-)