A/N: some smutterific scenes coming up ladies and gents~!
This was actually super hard to write…
Part of England was thinking, yes! Yes! Alfred is kissing me! He made the first move! Much akin to that of a young school girl who spoke to her crush for the first time. On the other hand, something felt very wrong. He couldn't quite put his finger on it (and frankly, he didn't want to) but there was something very off about America.
"Al-" Though he stopped and the breath hitched in his throat when Alfred let his tongue graze against Arthur's teeth. Arthur practically melted in his chair and opened his lips to let Alfred slide his tongue in against his own. His heart beat raced in his chest, surely about to burst from how excited he was getting and Arthur could feel his pants getting much too tight to keep on any longer. Arthur stood up and wound his arms around the curves of Alfred's hips and yanked them together to cause some friction to his aching crotch. A cute moan elicited from Alfred's throat which had Arthur's head reeling. He wasn't thinking at all. He just wanted Alfred. Just Alfred. ….
Teeth nipped at Alfred's pink lips and soon Arthur was moving his kisses down the young man's throat as he desperately tried removing his pants and was happy to see Alfred doing the same. In another moment, Arthur could feel both their hard dicks pressing against each other between the fabrics of their underwear. He bit on Alfred's skin much harder than intended but the other didn't seem to care as a low moan echoed throughout the kitchen. Arthur could barely contain himself from that sweet, sweet sound and examined the mark he made with great pride; yes, this is mine, was all he could think in his head. Alfred's hands were bunching themselves in his hair, tugging and pulling in the most delicious way as Arthur attacked his mouth again without even realizing they were backing up until his back slammed against the hard table top. Though he would have preferred to be the one fucking his favorite country, at this point Arthur just wanted Alfred however he came.
Alfred crawled on top of Arthur with his knees right on the table edge and was already peeling off the last remnants of clothes. It was like nothing else to see the proud country smile turned up into a smirk as a large warm hand traveled its way up Arthur's slick chest and follow the curves of his muscles. There had been no talking at all, only Alfred's moans and Arthur's grunts but England wasn't complaining. It was not like such an obnoxious person such as Alfred to remain so silent but at the same time it was nice to just hear the boy's panting and listen to the sucking of their mouths against one another.
Arthur raked his hands along Alfred's back, relishing in the way their bodies moved so wonderfully together and not even ashamed to let himself groan a bit when Alfred rubbed his cock against Arthur's thighs. The younger man licked at Arthur's cheek, tasting the salt before he leaned up and stuck two of his fingers in his mouth. It was almost criminal the way he wrapped his tongue so perfectly around each digit and stuck them so far past his lips that had Arthur craving to put that loud mouth to a more appropriate use. His glasses slid down his nose, revealing more clearly half lidded and lusty blue eyes which had much more words to them than Alfred could possibly say. It sent an involuntary shiver up Arthur's spine.
One finger slid its way into Arthur's tight opening and he couldn't help but be grateful this was not his first time. This daunting preparation might take longer than necessary. Nonetheless, England couldn't help how happy he felt at this moment. Finally after so many years of yearning for Alfred in every way he could have him, the boy handed himself over an silver pl-
"Gah!" He clawed at Alfred's shoulder when the sneaky bastard slid inside Arthur's hole without any kind of warning. There was even a cocky little grin plastered across his face while he waited for Arthur to adjust to his size.
"Don't be so full of yourself," Arthur grunted, arching himself up into Alfred.
"I think you're the one full of me," Alfred chuckled and began slowly pumping into the man beneath him.
Arthur was a bit surprised at the cheeky mark but did not get the chance as Alfred picked up his pace. He didn't want to give Alfred the satisfaction of how delicious it felt so he bit onto the other's shoulder to stop anything from slipping out of his mouth. How was Alfed so good at this? Had the boy slept with anyone else? A pang of jealousy shot through him at the thought; so what if he did? Alfred was so many years old now; he could have sex with whoever he wanted. As much as Arthur didn't like that idea.
And Arthur really didn't like that idea.
Even though it was hard to gain balance, Alfred still managed to slam himself deeply into Arthur with each powerful thrust. That damn strength of his came in handy sometimes, Arthur decided. He stopped caring about letting Alfred hear him. He arched into him and ground his hips against Alfred; anything to get more of him. Alfred even let his grin drop and had two arms planted on either side of Arthur's head to use as leverage. With Arthur's legs slung lazily over his hips, it caused a better angle for them both for Alfred to graze against that wonderful spot that had Arthur's head spinning. Their slick bodies rubbed together in such a way that had Arthur's cock aching for more attention and Alfred kindly obliged with his hand matching the pace of his thrusts. It was only a matter of time before Arthur let out a lovely cry and came all over Alfred's hand with the latter following suite.
It wasn't as if Arthur was hoping for some cuddling right there on his kitchen table, but he certainly wished for a bit more attention rather than America simply pulling out of him and disappearing back into another part of the house.
Actually, it made him feel like total shit.
He lay there on the table wondering if he was just there for Alfred to get off to. But Alfred wasn't like that… Not Alfred… Not his sweet little Alfred…
Or was it time for England to come to terms with the fact America was no longer his sweet little Alfred?
oOo
Ivan set little America down in a more comfortable position on the couch. Otherwise the boy would get a crick in his neck...how uncomfortable. When America wasn't talking, Ivan always noticed how handsome he was. His eyes were the prettiest-such a lovely sky blue. It would be nice to see them a lovely shade of death one day.
Russia shook his head quickly, a bit disturbed by his own thoughts. Ah, sanity was slipping away from him at a much more rapid pace these days. If only he could control it.
Pretty Alfred never seemed to have such a problem with that...
There was rustling from the young country and a quiet groan escaped his mouth. Ivan sat himself down on the coffee table in front of Alfred with a patient smile until America finally opened his eyes and yelped. He was not expecting Russia to be so damn close when he woke up.
"Pryvet," Ivan greeted, not at all perturbed by the small shout of surprise. "It's about time. I was starting to worry."
Alfred was clutching his heart while doing his best to catch his breath. "Wha...what?" This was the second time he woke that he needed to jog his memory about what had just transpired. Was it the same day? Was it all a bad dream? Of course not. Russia was still smiling at him. "How long have I been out?" he asked breathlessly. Must have been for at least ten days.
"Almost an hour."
"...oh." That was anticlimactic. He sat up to a sitting position and rubbed the butt of his palm against his eyes. "Wh-where's Texas?"
"Probably with the CSA," Russia answered calmly.
America's eyes shot open. He had completely forgotten. He groaned and dropped back against the couch with his hands covering his face unsure whether he wanted to cry or shoot someone. A bit of both, he decided.
"Russia..." he began, trying to keep his voice calm. It quivered slightly even after his best efforts.
The larger man just smiled at him expectantly. "Da?"
"Why...why am I here? I mean, besides the fact everybody wants me."
Russia's smile dropped. So it has come to this, has it? With some hesitation, Russia drummed his fingers against his thigh trying to think it through. He felt that even if he opened up to America, the boy would never understand. He would accuse Russia of something or other without considering the true reasons for Ivan's actions. After several minutes of blank staring, Ivan finally let himself smile again. "Razve my ne druzʹya? Nashi otnosheniya byli zhestko i ranʹshe, no ya dumayu, chto-"
"Woah, woah, woah! Stop the Russian!" America scowled at the older man. He knew that Ivan liked to speak his native tongue just to bother America. Ever since he started realizing Alfred could actually understand some words he said, he had been taking advantage of it. "I can barely understand you!"
Russia just chuckled, though at America's annoyance. "Mozhet bytʹ, eto mozhet bytʹ vashim rodnym yazykom , kogda-nibudʹ, da?"
There was a pause as the translation slowly processed through Alfred's brain. There were few words he recognized which helped him piece together the whole sentence. "Ha, very funny Russia. But there would be no way in hell-"
A hand shot out and fisted a handful of America's shirt to yank him inches from Russia's psychotic grin. "I do not think you are in any position to be making long term decision right now, Alfred."
America squirmed in Russia's relentless grip to no avail. Obviously the country was rapidly becoming stronger; though Alfred wasn't so much afraid of his strength. It was hard to tell if Ivan was mentally all there. "R-Russia, lemme go," he grunted and wiggled about, tugging at his shirt. It looked like it was starting to tear.
"Ah, Alfred. You do not realize what that wiggling does to me. It would be nice to see you writhing painfully underneath me, da?"
America's eyes widened at the suggestion and without another thought, reeled back and punched Russia square in the face as hard as he could. The impact forced the country to lean far back after releasing America which caused the table Russia had been sitting on to topple over and he was lying flat on his back. He clutched his bleeding nose that he was sure was broken and gaped at the ceiling. Lost control again. Ivan didn't quite remember what was said but he knew he had been far gone for a few seconds and Alfred was kind enough to punch the sanity back into him. Russia slowly sat up into a sitting position and nodded courteously to America who was still sitting on the couch, looking petrified.
"Spasiba," Russia said kindly and stood up. He would need to clean up his face then get some work done. He was rather behind…
After Russia had left, America couldn't quite wrap his head around what he just witnessed. He just socked Russia in the face and the guy got up like America suggested they go for a stroll tomorrow afternoon. Ivan was losing it and Alfred could see. Sure, Ivan has always been a sick bastard but that moment when he held America in his gaze, Alfred could tell there was something else there.
And it looked terrifying.
A/N: I'm trying really hard not to turn this into rusame x3 they are my otp... But don't worry. It's definitely a usuk fic~
Also, did you guys notice my obsession with calling America little?
Translation:
Razve my ne druzʹya? Nashi otnosheniya byli zhestko i ranʹshe, no ya dumayu, chto -Aren't we friends? Our relationship has been tough before but I think-
Mozhet bytʹ, eto mozhet bytʹ vashim rodnym yazykom , kogda-nibudʹ , da?- Maybe it can be your native language someday, yes?
Spasiba-Thank you
