UPDATE:
Proper epilogue now uploaded!
Merry Christmas, dudes! :) Happy New Year, too!
This chapter is the last. I think, anyway. I don't want it to end...I've had so much fun writing it! 3,650 words in this chapter! Aah! 13,604 in total!
I'd like to say a massive thanks to everyone who has read, favourited, followed and reviewed my story! :D It was really hard to write this, I'm seriously bad at typing yaoi scenes. Sorry. I love you all for your support. :') Merci~
Alfred smiled. He adored it when Arthur smiled and wasn't all tsundre. When he was it just sucked. Sucked balls.
But anyway, yeah. He loved it when Arthur showed his softer side. His lovely side. The not pathetic but adorably sweet, obedient, not-screaming-wanker-in-your-face Arthur. Yeah, that one. It was cute, and America just couldn't get enough.
The sunny-blonde leaned down and kissed the Brit before brushing his cheek. The two exchanged a sweet smile before Arthur took one of Alfred's hands within his own and squeezed it, signalling he was ready.
"A-aah-" Arthur grimaced. You could tell he was in pain, bless him.
'Huh. He isn't used to this? And here I was thinkin' he and France got it on every week...' thought America as he slowly slid himself into the adorable pink Brit below him.
"You okay?" asked Alfred. If anyone was hurting or in pain, Alfred had to help them! I mean, he was the hero, right? "Artie?"
"Mhm..." nodded Arthur, his eyes tightly shut.
"Dude, look at me."
Alfred squeezed Arthur's hand for some moral support and kissed his nose. (...Hey! There's nothing wrong with being cute and supportive, okay?...)
Arthur opened his eyes, emerald eyes staring into cerulean blue. He gritted his teeth before repositioning himself, and when he was ready, he nodded and squeezed back.
"¡Woah! ¿The fuck, Francis?" yelled Antonio as Francis backed up, having just punched Gilbert square in the jaw. "¿Gil, cómo estás?"
"Fucks sake, Franny! That fucking hurt!" groaned Gilbert, rubbing his slender jaw. "Ich bin gut, danke Toni."
"De nada."
"Francis, that was totally unawesome! What did I do?" asked the Prussian.
"J-Je suis désolé, Gil... But you weren't listening to moi !" said Francis, shaking his head. He had to admit, he did feel rather bad for hitting one of his best friends; but then again, he did kind of deserve it.
Prussia sighed. "Ja, Es tut mir leid..." His jaw wasn't hurting as much now, pain was certainly not awesome.
"¿Mi amigos, what are we going to do about England y America?" asked Antonio, who was frowning at the two English speaking countries on the screen.
"I do not know, Toni. I just don't know." sighed France as he slid back into his spinny-chair.
"Germany, hey, Germany! Let's go ice skating, Germany! Hey, ice skating, Germany?"
"ARE YOU WANTING ME TO GAS YOU?!" shouted the German, much to Italy and other passers by's alarm.
"I- AAAAAAH!" sobbed Feliciano, who'd thrown himself on the floor at Ludwig's feet and was hugging the blonde's legs.
Ludwig looked around and noticed that several citizens of New York had stopped to glare at him and stare at the red-haired Italian on the floor.
"What a poor boy..." mumbled one woman.
"How could he be so heartless? The poor lad only wanted to go ice skating!" said another.
"Aww, look at him! The poor lad. He did nothing wrong! I blame that bastard German, never have been nice folk have the Germans, I tell ya'!" said an elderly man, wafting his erect finger in the air as he spoke.
"Oh for Gott's sake..." mumbled Germany as he glanced down at little Feliciano, who was still sobbing at his feet. "Erm, Feli-"
The young Italian sniffled and rubbed his eyes. "Si?"
"I- er, I'm sorry, Feli."
"Doitsu's not mad at me?" asked Feliciano, tilting his head at the German.
"Nein. I guess we would go ice skating if you so wish, Italy."
"Veee!~" yelled the giddy man, who grinned and jumped up, pouncing on the German. "Come on, Luddy!"
Ludwig sighed. Today was definitely going to be a long one...
Alfred slowly intruded the Brit, bit by bit, inch by inch. After most of his member was in the messy haired Englishman, he saw the other relax.
He then took this opportunity to gently stroke the shaft of Arthur's dick. He smiled slightly as the other quivered at his touch. "Art?"
"P-please m-move, Alfie." he begged.
Seeing no harm in it, the American obliged. He slowly started moving within the Brit, watching his every reaction.
"Go faster, God damn!"
"If you saaaay soooo..."
'Mwahahaha!'
"¡Dios mío! ¡I have it!"
Francis and Gilbert took their sky blue and blood red eyes off the monitor and turned to the brunette Spaniard.
"Quoi?" asked Francis, who'd been startled. His eyebrows suddenly came down into a frown. "What is it, Toni? Mon Dieu !"
"Ja, Toni! We're missing this sexy action, here!" grinned Gilbert. He kept turning back to get a sneak peak at the two English speaking countries getting it on.
"I just had the best idea ever, mi amigos. Gather around..."
"Just tell us already!" laughed the Prussian.
Antonio looked rather irritated that none of the Bad Touch Trio gathered but nevertheless he continued, "We could blackmail them."
"Ohh! Ohh! Germany! Oww! It hurts! Please stop it! It's too tight! IT'S. TOO. TIGHT!"
"Stop your moaning, Italy." sighed Ludwig, who was getting very irritated by the shorter nation every second. "I thought this is what you wanted?"
"It was! It was, honest! You're just hurting me!" Feliciano replied, trying to kick off the ice skates that Germany had put on, which were way too tight.
"Feli, stop kicking! Bitte stop kicking your legs!"
"Hmph."
Italy folded his arms, glaring at the Germanic nation until he saw said man starting to untie the laces. Feliciano unfolded his arms and instead started smiling, happy that he was finally getting rid of the boots weighing him down and cutting off his circulation. "That's better, Germany! They're a lot looser now!" he exclaimed when Ludwig stood up.
"Ja, I hope they're better." commented Ludwig. At least now the giddy Italian was content and they could go skating before heading back. How long was left of their break now, forty minutes? It takes seven minutes of brisk walking to get back to the conference. But then again, Feli's a slow walker... Hm. Yes. Germany was definitely going to be late back; and that just took the piss. He was never late! Ever. Ever! "Hm, come along Feli. Let's go skating." smiled Ludwig, taking the Italian's hand in his. He might as well enjoy himself.
"And how do we do that, Toni?" asked Francis, suddenly intrigued. Blackmailing sounded like a good enough idea, but he wasn't sure if it would push England further away. That was the thing France feared most. After all, he did love the Brit and Arthur'd distanced himself enough already.
"Ja but how do we know it'll work? I mean, that American's such a dummkopf, he probably won't even do it." Prussia asked; he knew Toni was always good at ideas, but sometimes they just didn't work out.
Antonio smirked at his friends. "Believe me, they'll go along with it. Think about the advantage we have, mi amigos. The elevator shaft is only accessible from here and Francis was generous enough to tie up the repair workers." He gestured to the corner, where two repair workers were slumped against the walls, their hands and ankles tied together. The security guard was now tied to them, too. "Inglaterra y Estados Unidos have been in there for nearly cuatro horas now y we can see what they've been doing; all three of us know. I think that one of us should go down the ascensor eje and go into the lift. That way we can tell them everything we know... And we can make them do something."
The blonde and albino stared, open mouthed. Wow. This was one awesome plan, obviously not as awesome as Gilbert, but still pretty awesome.
'How the ficken did er think of that? Mein Gott...' thought Gilbert. He closed his mouth and opened it again to give a toothy grin. "Kesese! How did du think of that, Toni? Das ist sehr gut!"
It was France's turn to speak now; he turned back to the screen and got a glance at his beloved Angleterre being fucked by the American and his blood just boiled. Oh yes. He was liking this bribe idea. Of course, he'd have to be the one to go down into the lift. Put on a brave face and tell them what the Bad Touch Trio knew. "Oui. I should be the one to go down."
The other two stared at each other and the Spaniard shook his head. "No, Francis, you shouldn't. We all know how much you querer Arthur."
"Ja, the awesome me will go!" Gilbert declared. It would be a really bad idea to let the blonde go, especially in this state.
"Non ! Moi ! Je m'en vais."
"You sure, Franny?" asked Prussia. He didn't want to see his friend upset.
"Oui. I'll be going now." Francis added, forcing a smile and grabbing a rope before going over to the elevator shaft.
"O-oh! Dear G-God, Alfred!" moaned Arthur, shaking a little.
"You like that, huh?"
"Y-yes!"
"Good."
Alfred smirked as the Englishman threw his head back, getting so indulged in what they were doing. He was pumping Arthur's cock in time with his thrusts, which were getting harder and faster each time. Eventually he found the Brit's sweet spot. He knew he'd located it the moment Arthur widened his eyes, forming his mouth in a perfect 'O' shape and rolling his emerald eyes back.
"A-Alfie... There... Oh my God. I-I think I'm close-" Arthur managed to pant, his chest getting tighter and tighter as he got closer.
The American closed his eyes and sighed happily as Arthur leaned up and caught his lips in a kiss. "M-me too... I love you, Artie." he muttered as he thrust into him once more and stroked his dick, making them both come at the same time. They shared another kiss, although this one was rudely interrupted by a lanky Frenchman hanging from the square opening at the top of the elevator.
"A-Angleterre?"
Alfred turned around and screamed a totally legitimately manly scream. He got off Arthur and pushed himself against the wall next to him, covering himself with his infamous bomber jacket. He stared at the Frenchman, who was staring at the Brit beside him. "The fuck?!"
Francis squinted and then scowled, throwing down a rope and then sliding down it. He dusted himself off and flicked his hair back before looking back down at the two blonde nations butt naked on the floor. "Care to explain, mon cher?" he asked, tapping his foot. Arthur covered himself up whilst still staring wide eyed at the frowning Parisian.
"Do you care to explain, Francis? What the bloody hell are you doing here?"
"I've come here to give you a proposition..."
"He's in! Gil, look!" Spain yelled, keeping his eyes fixated on the screen. "When he's done, he said he'll look at the camera and wink..."
"Ja, ja. Okay." muttered Gilbert. He was currently watching Feliciano and Ludwig ice skate from a little camera he'd attached to Gilbird's head.
"Text everyone, Gil. Everyone."
"What kinda proposition?" enquired America, who was squirming under the Frenchman's glare.
Arthur sighed, knowing they'd been caught out. "Go on?"
"Well," started Francis, "we all saw you. Me, Gilbert and Antonio. Et we want to make a deal with you both." He gave a fake grin and wink before laughing. "Ahonhonhon~"
Alfred, being the obnoxious lad that he was, laughed. "You're blackmailing us? Pfft! Dude, not cool."
"Vas te faire foutre, sale américain." spat France. Alfred just turned up his nose. The blonde was getting bored of the American's little questions and interruptions. He wasn't usually this nasty, but something came over him and he suddenly felt rather guilty. Maybe these two were good together? "Je suis désolé." he added, sighing. "Now, you deux either go along with this, or we tell everyone about what you both got up to in here, oui? I'm sure they'd all love to know..."
"N-no!" stuttered Arthur. "Please, Francis-"
"Let him tell them. I don't give a fuck, man!"
"If you so wish..." smiled the blue eyed Parisian. "I guess I'll be going then. You might want to put some clothes on." He was just about to turn and go back up the rope when he heard a soft, English accent which stopped him in his tracks.
"F-Francis-"
He looked up again and smiled a genuine smile at the Brit, hoping he would get one in return from his l'amour. Sadly, that wasn't the case; instead, he received a harsh frown. "Oui?"
"We'll go along with your 'proposition'. Just please do not bloody tell anyone about this, okay, Frog?"
France swore he saw America twitch at England's comment, obviously wanting to seem like the good guy in this situation and make Francis seem like a complete dick, demanding things from them when they had every right to do what they did. (Though maybe not in an elevator, but hey, who cares?)
"It depends on Amérique. Is he going to go along with it?"
Alfred sighed and threw his arm around Arthur's shoulder. "Fine. But dude, this is still not cool."
"Now you both promise do what I say, or everyone will find out, oui?
Arthur and Alfred looked at each other. To be honest, now that Alfred had thought about it, none of them could risk their status' if people knew about this. Right now, Francis, Antonio and Gilbert were the only ones who knew about them, aside from themselves, of course. That meant five people. And any one of them could blurt it out at any time. But in all honesty, Francis wasn't one to break promises, and both of the English speaking nations knew that. In unison, they both nodded at the man before them. "Yes, yes. Of course."
Francis smiled at them. "Bon ! Now get your clothes on, Arthur, s'il vous plaît."
The Brit grabbed his boxers and slid them on, then gradually dressed himself in his smart suit again. He looked at Francis and gave him a look that said 'Now what?'. Francis smiled at him, the urge to just lunge himself at Arthur getting stronger. He suppressed the feeling and turned back to Alfred, "Now you just stay there and look pretty for now, okay? Your part is rather simple."
"My part?"
"Oh, oui ! You're going to be the one everyone's going to be looking at ! Just pretend it's a jeu. No-one will know any different."
Alfred sighed again. "And if I don't? What you gonna do, Frenchie?"
"Just bloody do it, Alfie! For God's sake, you twat." Arthur grumbled.
"I agree with Arthur." added France, smirking and winking at Alfred.
Just as planned, the Frenchman looked up to the camera and winked, also giving it a thumbs up. All of a sudden, the lift jolted and moved downwards very, very slowly. Francis took this as his exit and turned back to the sunshine blonde and Brit. "Oh, yes. You two have seen 'Gangnam Style', I assume? Well, you will re-enact the elevator scene. Pelvis thrusts and all. And don't bother telling everyone I set you up to it, parce que je will tell them everything. Remember?" And with that, he was gone. Pulling himself up the rope and onto the top of the elevator, he grinned to himself. He then pulled up the thick rope and climbed to the exit which would take him back to the floor he came from.
Francis burst into the room, smiling from ear to ear. "Get your cul to the bottom floor, both of you ! Il est going to plan !" He grabbed the two Bad Touch Trio members by their wrists and ran down the many, many stairs of the building. 'Bon job je exercer...' Francis thought as he pulled the two not-so-light men.
Gasping, they got to the bottom floor just in time. Everyone was stood in the lobby. Hungary, Austria, Romano, Italy and Germany were stood together toward the left hand side. Japan, Hong Kong, Thailand, North and South Korea, China, Russia, Belarus, Ukraine, Turkey and Greece were stood next to them, with the Asian nations in front of Turkey and Greece. (Height issues; first world problems, eh?)
To the right hand side was the Nordics; Denmark, Iceland, Sweden, Finland and Norway. Sealand, though not a country, was there too. The Baltic states were lingering at the back, as far away from Mr Russia as physically possible without going out of the building. Several other countries were there also, although the space smack bang in the middle was saved for the Bad Touch Trio.
Before Italy could say "Pasta!~", the broken elevator had come to a stop. The nations all stood in silence, save for Russia's quiet humming and Gilbird and Pierre's little chirps. The doors opened painfully slowly and revealed two blonde men. The countless countries gasped as they realised who it was; England and America.
Arthur was lay on the floor, face facing the 'audience'. He had black sunglasses on and his arms were folded. He looked like he was waiting to be hanged. And to be honest, he'd rather be waiting to be executed at that moment. It was so embarrassing. He heard several sniggers before he realised what was happening.
. . .
. . .
. . .
Alfred was thrusting. Naked. His member making loud smacking sounds as it hit the lad's thighs. The only thing he was wearing was a straw hat and a corny necklace with the face of the South Korean singer 'PSY' on it. Suddenly, Gilbert whipped out his speakers. He turned the bass up. The room was abruptly filled with the sounds of music; 'Gangnam Style' was playing loudly and the vibrations were bouncing off the marble floors.
"Oh, Mr America. What have you done..." muttered Japan.
"This reminds me of when I had Lithuania and Estonia perform it for me." added Russia, who was smiling brightly as people continued to laugh at the thrusting sunshine blonde before them.
"Oh, maple!"
People stopped laughing.
America stopped thrusting.
Gilbert turned off the music.
They all glanced down at the floor near the elevator doors. Lay on the floor was Canada, holding a video camera and a bottle of maple syrup.
He looked up. People looked down.
"Canada... The fuck is this?" asked America, wide eyed. "Dude, please don't tell me you were in the elevator the whole time... You- You didn't film it, did you?" He gasped and his heart stopped; he looked like he was about to kill the little Canadian. "DUDE?"
"Oh, shit..."
Epilogue, I guess. C:
Less than four hours later, the video of Alfred and Arthur was on many porn sites.
It had several thousand views, though many of them were from Francis, who was trying to figure out how to download it and Photoshop his face onto Alfred's body.
Matthew had gotten out alive. He had merely a scratch, but he'd managed to escape before the American had noticed.
The quieter boy was now sat on his couch, Kumajiro in arms, watching his bank balance slowly go up and up with every view his video received. Ah. This was the life.
Well, that's it for now! I know I'm awful at yaoi, I cringe when writing them...
Feel free to PM me if you wanna talk or suggest things for my stories! Reviews for this would be seriously appreciated! :) Love you guys so much!
Translations:
¿Gil, cómo estás? - Gil, how are you?
Ich bin gut, danke Toni. - I am good, thanks Toni.
De nada. - You're welcome/don't mention it.
Je suis désolé - I am sorry.
Ja, Es tut mir leid... - Yes, I am sorry.
¿Mi amigos, what are we going to do about England y America? - My friends, what are we going to do about England and America?
Mein Gott - My God.
Si - Yes.
Doitsu - Germany.
Nein - No.
¡Dios mío! - My God!
Quoi? - What?
Mon Dieu! - My God.
Mi amigos - My friends.
Bitte - Please.
Dummkopf - idiot.
Inglaterra y Estados Unidos - England and America.
Cuatro horas - Four hours.
ascensor eje - Elevator shaft.
'How the ficken did er think of that? Mein Gott...' - How the fuck did he think of that? My God...
Angleterre - England
querer - love (Spanish)
Das ist sehr gut! - That is very good.
Non ! Moi ! Je m'en vais - No! Me! I am going.
Vas te faire foutre, sale américain. - Fuck you, ugly American.
deux - two.
Bon ! - Good.
s'il vous plaît - please.
jeu - game.
parce que - because
'Bon job je exercer...' - Good job I exercise.
