Well if it isn't me again. I am beyond sorry for my disappearance for the last 2 years. School, social things and family issues took over my life and I even fell out of the fandom for a while (-ahem- Attack on titan -ahem-) but I think I'm back. I really want to continue this mostly because I still think about it and I do fear not finishing things off, so I want to prove to myself that I'm still able to do shit. Also. I have a boyfriend. I broke up with my past girlfriend, dated another girl before I met him and now we've been together for over a year now so that's also sucked up a large amount of my time. Also this was written back in 2013 around the end of chapter 8 - Chapter 9 is where I've started writing again. Maybe you'll notice a difference, maybe not! Maybe I've gotten worse hahaha! So again sorry for making you all wait... you probably have forgotten all about this XD but what the heck I'm still going to write it, if not for you, for me.
TL;DR: I'm back, I'm writing again, hopefully I get to finish this now
Thanks again for reading!
Mr Alex
"Hey! Wake up Bastard! It's late and someone keeps ringing your phone. It's fucking pissing me off."
England rubbed his eyes yawning. He sat up resting his head sleepily against the back of the couch his neck stiff and aching. Through blared eyes, he saw Romano standing beside the couch arm rest a large ceramic mug in hand. He could smell the strong filling scent of freshly roasted coffee beans.
"Good Morning to you too Romano." He wiped his face trying to bring himself into a better state of consciousness. It had been five days since Romano had fallen sick, that also meant that for the last five nights England had been sleeping on his couch downstairs and having to deal with the problems it gave his back. "How did you sleep?" He asked, half-heartedly wrapping up his spare duvet and taking the mug from Romano, grateful for the caffeine hit. Romano plonked himself heavily into the couch surrounding himself in the soft pillows, curling his knees up, sitting on his feet.
"Better I guess."
"Do you still feel ill?" The blonde began to try and rub the knots out of his neck. "Last night you were pretty good."
Romano shrugged, scratching the side of his neck.
"I haven't thrown up since yesterday morning."
England nodded, sipping from the coffee lightly. He didn't mind the rich taste, it was thick and somewhat sweet, unlike the bitter and thin tasting coffees he found here or in America. Though, he sighed, nothing beat a good Earl Grey.
"Well I guess that's good then." He smiled. "Have you had something to eat yet?" He looked at his watch, it was quarter-to ten. Romano pulled a sour face.
"After eating your poor excuse for food for the last five days, I can't believe I haven't stuffed my face yet with something remotely edible, but no. I haven't, not yet."
It was England's turn to pull a sour face.
"Well I didn't see you coming downstairs to cook for yourself." He bit.
"I wouldn't be surprised if your beef stew was keeping me ill, I bet it's some sort of conspiracy on behalf of the MI5"
"That's recipe came down the Royal family for generations!"
"I'd ask for a refund." Romano teased folding his legs, poking his tongue out. England chuckled.
"Wanker." He said giving Romano a shove in the shoulder. Romano was about to retaliate when a loud voice burst from the counter top.
"I'M FRENCH!" Its exclaimed. "'AN'T YOU TELL BY ZHIS OUTRAGIOUS ACCENT?!"
Romano raised a brow.
"Its been doing that for the last half hour." He said, tone slightly peeved. England chuckled.
"I set it as France's ring tone."
Romano snickered.
"America's one is 'I don't want to be an American idiot.'"
"Too late"
England grinned. The phone finally stopped buzzing and England pondered on whether it would be worth turning it on silent. He honestly didn't want to deal with the Frog. He had been able to call in for a few days off the last week to deal with personal issues. He didn't usually call in for such favours so they were usually lenient when he did. The last day off being July the 4th last year. So God help him, he was at least going to enjoy his freedom.
"So what's mine?" Romano asked, expectantly. England blinked, frozen.
"I - uh - I don't have one for you yet." He spilt his coffee slightly and stumbled to reach for a tissue to mop it up. Romano folded his arms, unimpressed.
"I'M FRENCH!" England's phone shouted again. "'AN'T YOU TELL BY ZHIS OUTRAGIOUS ACCENT?!"
Romano stood up.
"Are you hungry yet?" He asked, waiting until England finished his coffee taking the mug with him to the kitchen. He then walked back into the lounge room leaning on the door frame, a brow raised. "I'm making breakfast, either you eat now or you starve later, your choice."
It was only then that England noticed, without the cover of pillows blocking his view, what Romano was wearing. A nightshirt, that he had borrowed from England, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and a pair of fitted boxers. His long slim caramel legs were bare and open for England's much pleasured viewing. He felt his throat seize up, thus making intelligent conversation and speech impossible. He just nodded hoping that would account as a reasonable response. Romano frowned and turned back into the kitchen. England stared after him admiring his boyfriend's backside fully. He paused, momentarily, catching himself once more beginning to fantasise. Had the deprivation of sexual intercourse affected him for the worse? Had it morphed him into a lustful and dangerous creature? Thinking about it now, he hadn't even jerked himself off for a long time… was it almost a month? No wonder he had been so horny around Romano lately. England shivered, he had better keep a closer eye on that, otherwise he might do something he could terribly regret.
Downed his own night shirt and trousers, England walked uncoordinatedly toward the kitchen, his head light from his sudden rise and sleepiness. He rested both his elbows on the kitchen island bench watching from behind as Romano cracked open egg shells skilfully sliding the yolk from inside the shell into a plastic bowl. England didn't watch so much as stare at the Italian, his eyes undressing the other.
The shirt would be taken off first, slowly while he littered Romano's soft golden chest with small kisses each button would be removed with ease and flourish then he would let it rest on Romano's shoulders as England kissed down the brunette's stomach. Back up he would then travel, where he would bite and pinch before sucking and licking the other's nipples gently. From there he would roll the sleeves down his arms until they bunched at his wrists. He would then sink lower, and lower on Romano… lower and lower…
England smiled. That was a nice image. He felt a small nudge in his pants. His smile dropped. Not a nice result though.
Of course it was then that Romano decided to turn around and use the surface to begin opening the waffle oven over a sheet of baking paper. He looked up and smiled at England's blank face with a bemused smile. England felt his stomach tighten. Romano wouldn't be smiling if he what images England just had of him in his mind. Romano sensed the discomfort, his smile dropping his brow raising in curiousity.
"What's wrong?" he asked. Turning the oven on and stirring the thick batter. "You look pale… or paler…I can't with you British.."
England felt his body heat, he honestly wondered if one could pass out of embarrassment. He sent a prayer to God to relieve his obvious boner, but was instead sent a phone call from the Devil.
"I'M FRENCH!" His phone cried. "CAN'T YOU TELL BY ZHIS OUTRAGIOUS ACCENT?!"
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Upstairs with the door closed, England finally let out a long sigh of relief. He slowly accepted the call and lifted the receiver to his ear.
"France."
"Bonjour Arthur! Finally you answer my calls! What was keeping you?" France's voice carried down the line with a flourish. England rolled his eyes walking over to his bed, sitting on the edge.
"What do you want France?" He asked, pleased his boner had officially vanished.
"Can I call without a reason?" He asked with a fake bout of melancholy.
"No."
"Meanie." He responded through pursed lips.
"What do you want France or I'll hang up." The Brit warned.
"Okay, okay Mr Wand-up-my-ass." The French nation appeased. "Feli told me you were keeping Romano at your place." He chuckled. "Good job Angleterre, I wouldn't have expected you to move onto sex so quickly." He laughed. " I bet it was the oysters, a natural aphrodisiac you know. He did eat all of them too!"
England sighed a hand to his forehead.
"Did Italy also include the fact that Romano was bed-ridden with food poisoning?"
Silence.
"...No"
"Well he was, and has been for the last four days It was around yesterday that he finally began to regain his body strength."
"Mon dieu…" France murmured. "So… you didn't have sex?"
"No you fucking wanker! We didn't have sex!" England growled, France just sighed.
"So much work to do."
England raised a brow.
"What do you mean?"
"Despite what you may think Angleterre getting people into your bed if you're looking for a relationship isn't about your charm, looks or suave personality and sweet talk." he then added. "Though I do know from experience it does help. There is a plan you need to follow."
England curiousity was piqued.
"What sort of plan?"
"And plan made up of 12 steps. A 12 step plan." Then in a lower, smoother voice. "12 steps to love."
"You mean sex." England corrected bluntly. He heard a choking gasp from the other end before an exasperated French accent shrieked over the line.
"No! No! No! You have it all wrong! It's not sex you're after!"
"Yes it is."
Another strangling noise.
"Angleterre, tell me. You would sleep with anyone right now, one night, a quick fuck, just to relief yourself?"
England felt his face heat.
"Well, n-no! But-"
"Exactly, and do you love Romano?"
"Of course I bloody do!"
"So you want sex and you want it with Romano, right?"
"Yes, that's right."
"Well then." His smirk was almost audible. "Then it is no longer just sex, mon cher. It is then love. Thus why it is called 12 steps to love."
England rolled his eyes pinching the bridge of his nose.
"And you're saying that if I follow these 12 steps, I'll have Romano?"
"Yes."
"Okay then, how far are we then?"
France hummed.
"Well, so far you're only at step two, but I've had to change a few things around, step-wise, since you're already together as a couple. Usually it would be dinner first."
England groaned.
"That's ten more steps!"
"Gold star for you."
"Well, what's next?"
"Public affection."
Just from talking to the Frenchman England could feel a headache coming on.
"What's your advice then?" he asked rubbing his aching temple.
He hummed again vibrating the speaker.
"I would try someplace nice, and outdoors."
"Outdoors?" England pushed himself off the side of the bed before opening his thick heavy curtains. The city of London was covered in a grey blanket of cloud, it wasn't raining but, the sun was straining to reach through the heavy cover. He sighed. "In London? Sure." He fell back onto his bed heavily, his leg dangling off the side. "The weather here is an unpredictable as your hair on a humid day."
"I'm going to forget you said that." France stated curtly.
"Remember that party America had in Bali?"
"Cruel Angleterre! Cruel!"
England rolled onto his stomach pulling at the loose cotton on the duvet cover. It was getting a little ratty, he'd have to buy another. He closed his eyes.
"So what should I do with him once we're outside?"
"That's up to you. Though I do know that from experience doing an activity such as ice-skating is a good idea."
"So cliché"
"It's good for you though."
England folded his arm, tucking in in his armpit.
"How so?"
"It gives you a chance to be touchy feely, especially if the other isn't good at it."
England paused.
"So you're saying I should take advantage of his inability to do something, just so I can feel him up?"
"In a very brutally honest and blunt way, yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."
England remained quite, pondering over the information.
"As much as it pains me to say Francis, that is quite a good idea."
"I'm glad." The other said happily. "So what do you think? Ice-skating is, like you say, cliché, but's its still a good option. Bowling is always fun too, and easy."
England hummed thoughtfully.
"Let me talk to him first. He did only just get better."
France sighed.
"You truly are hopeless Arthur, its been almost three weeks. Had it been me I would have already made a move on him."
England clenched his teeth, was this bearded monkey actually trying to emasculate him?
"Had it have been you, you also would have had sex and moved on by now."
France responded with momentary silence.
"You are being particularly nasty today Arthur." He stated. England swapped the phone over the other ear.
"If you were in my situation for the last six months, I'm positive you would be the same."
"What's wrong?"
England rolled back onto his stomach his eyes staring at the ceiling, he ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily.
"Lately it's been getting worse. I'm worried I'm going to pounce him. One night I could hardly keep it together.'
France was silent for a while before he spoke softly and thoughtfully.
"Arthur, that is a problem, but just remember that you love Lovino more than you love sex. And if that doesn't work, you always have your hand." He laughed lightly at his own joke.
"Wanker."
"Also while your on the date make sure you keep your intentions clear. From what I've learned from Antoine from when he dated Lovino was is that little Lovi won't always get it. If you're going for a kiss, make eye contact. If you're going for the arm-around-the-shoulder move don't do that silly yawn thing before hand. Just do it."
Of course, England knew it. On different scales all Latinos were air-headed to some extent.
"I knew it." He sighed shaking his head.
"Knew what?" The other inquired.
"Nothing you ass!"
Romano had constantly questioned his reasoning on sleeping down stairs on the couch rather than his own bed. England was forced to make up his some random excuse each time on how he wanted to watch TV before falling asleep or how his bed was giving him back problems because of the soft mattress. Only because saying "I can't sleep in the same bed as you because I don't know if I can control my raging boner" has never sounded like a great response. England rolled over tossing his phone onto the bedside table. He wasn't going to need it today. Today was going to be all about Romano and himself. No, fuck that. Today was the day Arthur Kirkland was going to take his boyfriend Lovino Vargas out on a date and no one was going to ruin it.
The gorgeous smell of burnt caramelised sugar and cinnamon wafted from downstairs.
"Hey bastard! You better come and get it before it gets cold!"
England smirked and slid off the bed walking into the corridor.
Now he only had to think of what they're were going to do on this unruinable date….
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"Roller-blading?"
Romano had a fork-full of waffles to his lips, his mouth still full. "I've never done that before…"
England's eyes widened as he took a sip from his orange juice, eyes trained on Romano's face.
"Nope." Romano shovelled the fork in, the syrup glimmered on his lips.
"it's like ice-skating except of solid ground and not ice."
Romano sighed shaking his head.
"The amount of times Feli dragged me out to go ice-skating with him on Christmas morning to sing carols" His tone read as if he were annoyed, but his eyes shone heavy with nostalgia. "I guess it can't be too different, and besides…" Romano stretched his arms above his head body beginning to tighten under the strain. "… I need to get out of this god forsaken house."
England chuckled
"So you're willing to try it?" England pushed the last piece of his waffle around the white china plate with his fork. The syrup swirled, thickly.
Romano rested his hands behind his head, interlocking his fingers.
"To be honest, I'd be willing to do anything that's outdoors right now." He then stood clearing the plates. England placed his cutlery parallel on his plate before Romano took it sipping his own brewed earl grey.
"I'll check parks nearby that do hire services." He said pulling his laptop across the table top and opening it up. Romano stood by the sink, rinsing and stacking the dishwasher. He grabbed a purple sponge wiping down the benches and the stove top his brow furrowed as he scrubbed furiously over a harden splash of batter.
"C'mon… come off…"
Finally satisfied with the cleanliness of the kitchen, Romano walked back over to England, who was tapping away at his computer. He leant over England's chair, looking at the screen. England bit the side of his thumb, scrolling down through the website page.
"Did you find anything yet?" Romano asked, as he rolled up his sleeves of his dark brown sweater.
"A few, but none around here… they're more out of the city…"
"Good."
A jingle of keys beside England caused him to look and watch as his boyfriend smiled triumphantly holding out his car keys. "I'm driving~"
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"Take the left. Take the left! Take it!"
England gripped the dashboard of the Lamborghini tightly, the car swinging wildly around a corner. Romano cussed as he skid and flew down the adjacent road.
"See… this is why I don't let you drive." England felt his stomach churn, worried his breakfast might make an unwanted appearance. Romano just clicked his tongue.
"Fucking wuss." He manoeuvred around a slower car, narrowly missing a ditch in the road. "I drive fine." He sped down another street. A bin on the side of the road was only dodged by centimetres. "That bin was right in the middle of the fucking road!" He slammed a palm onto the horn, blaring loudly at the bus in front that was almost covering two lanes.
"It wasn't even on the road! It was on the side! Right next to the footpath!"
Romano growled, rolling his eyes.
"Same shit, different smell."
Pulling up at some red lights, England tried to regulate his breathing, after the multiple heart attacks he suffered in a space of time just under ten minutes.
"We really aren't in a rush." He reasoned.
"I want to beat traffic, and get a nice car sport. This is a brand new and gorgeous car. I would be capable of murder if anyone or anything touched it…"
England rolled his eyes crossing his ankle over his knee as he murmured under his breath.
"That's if you don't total it before we even get there."
Romano raised a brow.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
Thankfully, they arrived at the park not too soon after. The park was rather large and open spaced. The outer part covered and protected with a surrounding barrier of large trees and well kept hedges. The suns early afternoon glow warming the chilled park it is golden rays. England noticed the presence of children and many families as well as younger and older couples. He was weary of the fact that it seemed so populace, but also reasoned that with more people around the less likely people were going to focus on the two of them had England decided he was going to take France's advice.
Romano parked his car under the shade of a large tree that blossomed with small white flowers and long finger like leaves. He walked up to a young girl who was wearing the park keeper's uniform, smoking a cigarette before dropping a ten dollar note in her hand.
"The car stays safe… you got it?"
The girl gave Romano an incredulous stare before pocketing the money and nodding. Romano gave a quick friendly smirk before spinning on his heel, grinning victorious at England.
"What did I tell you~"
"You do realise that don't actually look after cars here right? They look after the park… thus the name "Park-keeper"?"
Romano gave a questioning gaze.
"What did you think the money was for, then?"
England sighed shaking his head but let the subject drop. He turned a small smile on his lips, guiding Romano toward a white booth situated on the side of the park grounds. Signing his name and his phone number England passes the money over the counter. Obtaining two pairs of rollerblades for a spotted teenage, England walked over to Romano, sitting on a bench, and handed him a pair. Romano nodded his thanks before reaching down to pull them on forcefully his strength, flimsy and rough. Chuckling, England pulled Romano's hands away gently putting him on his shoulders to help support Romano as he helped his slide his blades on easily.
"There…" he said. "Fits like a glove." England's hands lingered on Romano's leg for longer than necessary, sending Romano's face a heated and flushed pink. Romano tried to stand up straight away pulling his hands back from England's shoulders, but his balance and stability was that of a baby deer. He wobbled, his arms outstretched, brow furrowed in concentration. With a large grin on his face England helped him back down to the seat, while he put on his own skates.
"You're only smug because you don't have your blades on yet…" Romano growled folding his arms.
Finally ready, England stood wearily, his own balance off and uncoordinated.
"Oh Bollocks…" He mumbles taking a hold of a nearby park lamp pole. "This isn't fucking easy, now is it…"
Meanwhile, Romano had begun to get the hang of it, able to balance himself and manoeuvre as he pleased across the cement pathway. He rolled up beside England, his expression victorious once more.
"C'mon old man~ I was waiting to be impressed."
England waved him off, pissed.
"Fuck off. Give me a little time, I'll get used to it…" He tried moving his leg forward only for it to slip too far, causing him to topple over and land on his knees. Romano stifled a chuckle.
"Need help?"
"No." England clenched his teeth. "I'm fine." Using the lamp pole for support, he hauled himself back up.
"Should I wait or will you just catch up?" Romano rolled around the pole easily his hands behind his back.
"Go on. I'll catch up to you… Just as soon as I figure out how to make these bloody things work…. Fuck… I think their broken." England sighed. Well wasn't this a great start to their "un-ruinable date"? His grip on the pole tightened, his heart began to thump furiously. He wasn't meant to be struggling! It was meant to be Romano! And then England would be the one swooping in and helping him out kindly, like the gentleman he was. While also copping a feel of Romano's ass… like the true pervert he was.
Closing his eyes, he breathed out deeply. Now he would have to go back and tell France about how miserably he had failed. It was then, to England's surprise, that a pair of warm arms slowly began to embrace him. Opening his eyes back up, blinking, confused, England watched his a paralysed state of shock as Romano, with his arms crossed around his waist, slowly led him away from the pole back into the centre of the pathway.
"Roma?" England asked stunned. Romano scoffed lightly looking down at the footpath.
"You looked fucking pathetic, I had to do something, otherwise it would be embarrassing to be seen with you."
England felt his heart flutter lightly in his chest, but outwardly, he pursed his lips into a hard line.
"You wanker! I was fine! I just needed some practise is all!" He began to try and 'slide' his way forward before almost losing balance again. He fell himself falling backward, all gravity falling heavily on his chest . But it was before he hit the ground that the two warm arms from before encircled him once more. England paused. Romano's left hand was holding his shoulder keeping his upper body up, that was fine. But Romano's right hand had found itself resting comfortably on England's ass.
Both men acknowledged in silence what had happened and both mutually agreed to pretend it had never happened. England felt his pride of being the self appointed Dominant of the relationship was being threatened.
England huffed in annoyance. He was the one who was meant to be feeling Romano up. Not the other way around! They rolled down the path in silence, neither able to look the other in the eye.
England still found it hard to find his balance at times, stumbling and refusing any help the Italian gruffly offered. He felt rotten for biting out at the boy, but his own pride was hurting all the more.
"If you don't want to rollerblade anymore, it's okay… we can stop…" Romano slid to a stop. England rolled on a little further unable to control his movement and momentum well.
"No! I just…" Without speaking further, he reached out taking Romano's hand in his, his eyes down cast. It wasn't direct like France had told him to be, but Romano hadn't pulled away or refused his hand, only smiling softly into his high jacket collar. He squeezed England's hand reassuringly before pulling him back next to him. Romano leant into his slightly, sighing deeply, his nose and cheeks flushed from the cold. England just stood for a while, his own face heated, pleased and at the same time unsure of how to explain what had just happened.
Did Romano understand what he had been trying to do? Or had he mistaken the gesture as a call for help? He hoped with everything he had that it were the former. Directness was what France had said would really allow Romano to see where England was coming from. And nothing was more direct than a kiss… right?
With a firm grip on Romano's chin, he tilted his face up to meet his own. Keeping eye-contact firm and intentions clear, England edged forward. Only when England's mouth brushed the thick soft lips of Romano, did the other react.
"Bastard!" He hissed, without pulling away. "People can see, you fucktard…"
England almost felt like slapping himself. Only now did it truly occur to him about Romano's insecurities when it came to public bouts of affection. He began to pull back, annoyed at his own stupidity, when he noticed that somehow he was firmly stuck in the spot. He looked down curious, seeing Romano's hand tightly holding onto his jacket the other still holding onto his hand. England looked back at Romano's face, an eyebrow raised inquisitively. Romano closed his eyes before speaking in a hushed and lowered tone.
"Don't let go on my fucking hand. You got it? Hold it tight and don't let it go."
England was about to question why, when a harsh shove in his chest sent him rolling back straight into the large manicured hedges lining the pathway. His grip on Romano's hand pulling him after, sending them both toppling over, hidden by the vegetation. England landed on his back, Romano resting on his chest. The Brit rubbed his head wincing.
"Fuck Lovi, what was that abou-"
A par of warm lips pressed against his own shushing him. England let his eyes fall shut into the bliss of the kiss, the warmth, the softness, the pure feeling of Romano against him. He tasted Romano on his lips, sweet like honey, but with a twist of spice and cinnamon. He smelt of warm freshly baked bread, the smoke and warmth still billowing off the hard crackling golden crust. England opened his lips almost anticipating the moment when they would begin to use their tongues to only deepen the kiss. But before he could even start by licking at the edges of Romano's delicious lips, romano had already pulled away licking his own lips, smug. England only let the disappointment fester in his stomach, to Romano he gave a soft smirk. He gestured to the branches around them.
"Was this all necessary?" He asked. Romano just rolled his eyes.
"Be thankful, that's all you're getting."
England sat up slightly, propped up on both his elbows.
"All I'm getting?" he pouted. Romano just leant down giving a small peck into the pout.
"You're patient bastard~ You can manage." He gave the other a small chuckle before shoving him back down into the dirt. "Don't follow until after you counted to fifty get it?" He crawled out brushing the leaves of his coat and pants, before rolling on as if nothing had ever happened. England sighed and closed his eyes resting his head back into the dirt.
Fuck.. If only Romano knew how wrong he was….
Thanks again for everyone support even when I was gone it really means a lot :)
Review, favourite as your reviews give me motivation to write more than anything and constructive critique is always welcome! Thank you
