Modern

Chile was gathering the courage to talk to his ex-boyfriend again. He still felt so strongly towards him, and he was trying to figure out how to express it. They had so many scattered moments that gave him reason to believe there was still something between them.

He had been able to tempt Argentina onto the dance floor a few times with the promise of still being his best dance partner. And the feeling when they danced close to each other hadn't changed.

He took a deep breath as the meeting ended. He knew what he needed to do, but he was not as certain that he would be able to do it once he was faced with it. Their breakup had been painful, and all he wanted was to be able to heal it. But, his words so often failed him when he tried to explain it to Argentina.

He followed Argentina for a few minutes, and he didn't manage to say anything until they were alone. He raised his voice and said, "Juan, I need to talk to you."

The sound of his voice was not as confident as he hoped, but it was enough to get Argentina to turn towards him. The look on his face was inscrutable, but at least it wasn't anger.

Argentina said, sounding terse, "I don't want to fight with you today." Chile stepped closer, raising both hands in supplication, and said, "I don't want to fight. I just want to talk."

He got close enough that they could touch each other if they were to reach out. It was neutral enough, since they had been closer when they danced. The other man drew in a deep breath and said, "What do you want to talk about?"

Chile took a calming breath, and said, "I miss you. I know I made so many mistakes, but I still l-"

Before the word could leave his mouth, he felt Argentina's hands firmly on his shoulders. The taller man whispered angrily, "Don't you dare say that word. You won't mean it this time either."

Chile could see his eyes so clearly now, and they were full of pain and anger. But, there was something else there. He knew that the familiar affection must still be there. Argentina drew him closer and added, "I will not let you say it."

Chile felt the most confusing mix of emotions. He would not allow himself to be told what to do, and he did not want to be denied his ability to express himself. But the way that Argentina had pulled him close had made his heart start racing, as it always did.

His longing for his former partner was more than emotional, and he was very aware of the strong hands on his shoulders. He wanted them on his hips or his waist, holding him in any way that was more gentle.

He tried to ignore the flush rising in his cheeks and said, "I am going to say it, and you can't stop me."
Argentina leaned in closer and said, "I can think of a few ways to shut you up."

It sounded like a threat, and Chile was unmoved. Argentina did not look angry enough to strike him. He replied, "Do your worst, I will still-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Argentina put his lips to his neck and ran his tongue over a particularly sensitive spot. Chile felt a shiver of pleasure shoot down his spine. The words that he had on his tongue vanished into a moan.

While his lips were parted, Argentina took a hold of his jaw with one hand. His grip was firm, but not painful. He tilted Chile's head up and joined their lips.

Chile had no idea how this was happening, but he wasn't going to question it. He had missed this feeling of close, intimate contact. He hadn't been with anyone like this after their breakup, and he could feel the lust so clearly now. The carefully constructed conversation he had planned vanished from his mind. All of his blood was rushing south, and he felt like he couldn't think.

He hadn't realized how much he needed this touch until now. His mouth opened obligingly to let Argentina's tongue into his mouth.

But, Argentina pulled back. Chile heard himself whimper before he realized how undignified it was.

Like an old habit, Argentina put his arm around Chile's waist and held him close. Now that he could see Argentina's face clearly, Chile saw how flushed he was too. He looked just as excited.

Argentina spoke, sounding like he was struggling to contain himself, "I don't want to talk. I want you."

His thumb stroked Chile's cheek in a way that made Chile's knees feel weak. Argentina continued, "No one feels like you."

Chile caught his breath enough to say, "What do you want to do to me?" He knew the likely answer, but he wanted to hear it. He wanted to hear it in Argentina's melodious voice, with that rough edge of need. It would turn him to jelly.

Argentina said, his hand still holding so firmly onto Chile's face, "I want to pin you down, and fuck you until you can only tremble and moan."

Chile shuddered in anticipation. He could remember how that felt, how perfectly they fit together. He could clearly remember how it felt to have Argentina inside of him. Argentina added, "You know I know how to do it. You remember."

He pulled Chile flush against him. He then kissed Chile's neck again. At the same time, he pressed one leg between Chile's, applying even more pressure to his arousal. The closeness and the kiss was enough to make a moan pass Chile's lips.

Then, he remembered that they were not really alone. Anyone could see them. He said, breathlessly, "We need to go somewhere private." Argentina nodded, and then took his hand and led him out towards his car.

Chile was laying across Argentina's bare chest, exhausted but satisfied. He felt happy to be back in this bed with Argentina.

His body was tired, and his lower body was pleasantly sore. He had not asked his partner to be gentle, and he felt the effects of it. The pain was subtle, and would be gone in the morning.
A nagging voice in the back of his head told him that he was supposed to be having a conversation with Argentina. But, his vocal cords were in no fit state to say anything now.

His throat hurt, but he did not mind. They could have a conversation in the morning, when Argentina would certainly be in a better mood.

He looked up at Argentina's sleeping face, and felt a surge of affection. He was still the same man, no matter how much he tried to be angry. He was still so handsome and sweeter than he pretended.

Chile said, his voice sounding hoarse, "I love you."

Argentina sleepily put a hand on his head, and stroked his hair. He muttered, quietly enough that Chile had to strain to hear him, "Love you, too."