It Runs in the Family 2

America sat on the couch at England's house, beer in hand, barely watching the soccer game as he stared blankly at the television. "I don't get what the big deal is about soccer over here."

England snorted. "First of all, it's ifootball/i, and it is much better than that monstrosity you call sport in your country."

America scowled, standing. "Football is awesome as hell! This is NOT football! This is a bunch of pansies kicking a ball and then hugging it out, slapping each other on the ass, and taking flying leaps into each other's arms. It's gay, is what it is!"

Next to where he'd been sitting on the couch, Australia cleared his throat. "Not to ruin your argument, mate, but you're a bit of a poofter yourself, if the past few months have been any indication."

America turned to look at him. "But it's different. We're not fucking each other senseless and calling it a sport. We're doing it and calling it love."

England's brows furrowed as he listened to the two over the excitement on the screen. "Would you two stop your constant yammering about things I don't care to know? Honestly. You have a bedroom. Save your pillow talk for when you're in there."

America rolled his eyes at England over his shoulder. Like he was one to talk at all? He looked back at Australia. "…So…Pillow talk upstairs?"

Australia raised a brow. "You can't even wait til later?" He sighed, finishing his beer. "Fine. You're a hell of a demanding bloke, you know that? There's no one else that'd be able to keep up with your needy arsehole." He snickered as America shoved him in the arm for the comment, before heading to the stairs. "Let me know when your team loses again!"

England scowled, calling after him. "Just for that, I'm making dinner instead of ordering it."

America ignored the two as he moved upstairs. He walked right past the guest room that he and Australia were sharing, instead moving down the hall to England's bedroom. He looked over his shoulder when Australia followed him, closing the door behind him. "My needy asshole, huh? Just for that, you're bottoming again."

Australia groaned. "Oh come on, mate. I let you knock footie for this, and he's going to be too annoyed to come up and see what we're doing anyway."

America scoffed. "You think I don't know what I'm doing? I have everything timed perfectly. Now toss the clothes and let's do this."

Australia frowned as he pulled off his shirt. "I love ya to bits, but this is gonna be awkward."

America nodded, pulling off his own clothes. "Tell me about it. We're gonna need some hardcore foreplay. It's just gross, thinking about the fact we're doing this in his bed. I don't know how they do this all the time."

Australia snorted. "They're pissed, maybe?"

America shook his head. "I don't think being angry has anything to do with it."

Australia rolled his eyes, shoving America down on the bed. "I meant drunk and you know it, damn Yank." Before America could retort about how he was supposed to be on top, Australia leaned down, pressing his lips hard against his mouth as he shoved him further down into the mattress, climbing over him and straddling his hips.

Outside, Canada sighed inwardly as he followed France up to the door. When he'd heard America's plan for revenge against England and France, he was all for it. He had thought he was the only one who'd had to walk in on something like he had. It was good to hear that not only was he not alone, but someone was finally doing something about it. That said, America's plan also left him alone downstairs when England realized he had a much uninvited guest. Before he could even begin to entertain thoughts of diverting from the plan, France was ringing the doorbell. It was just a few moments before England opened the door and scowled.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here, frog?"

France sniffed, pushing past England, who stared at the bags in his hands. "Canada called and asked me to come to your little family get together and prepare dinner."

England blinked. "...Who?"

France shook his head, making a beeline for the kitchen. Canada scowled, pushing to get in before England closed the door on him, and watched as England stalked after France.

"You're not touching a thing in my kitchen! I am perfectly capable of cooking dinner myself, so just let yourself out of my house!"

Canada walked over to the couch, sitting down to watch the rest of the game as he listened to the bickering in the kitchen. Really, they should be more embarrassed at how predictable they were. He turned up the volume on the television. Between the loud shouts from the kitchen and the muffled moans from upstairs, he just wanted to try and find a good distraction.

It didn't take long before England stalked out of the kitchen, heading for the stairs, France hot on his heels. "I'm going to curse you and your people and your people's people and …and…"

France followed him up the stairs. "That doesn't even make any sense! My people's people?"

Canada smirked, and briefly wondered if he should follow before turning back to the television. There were just some things he didn't need to see; his brother getting nailed being one of them.

England stormed down the hall when he reached the top of the stairs, heading for his room. He kept most of his dark arts in the basement, but this book he kept hidden under the floorboards under his bed. It couldn't fall into the wrong hands, after all. He reached his room and threw open the door. It took only a second for him to stop cold.

America's hands were nearly ripping the sheets from the way he gripped them, moaning loudly with his legs hooked high up over Australia's shoulders. Australia held America's hips off the mattress as he ground into him almost mercilessly. Both were too engrossed in their own pleasure to even notice that the door had dented the wall with how hard it'd been slammed open.

England was too stunned to notice when France walked into his back, and peered over his shoulder to see what caused the commotion.

"Oh la la! Amerique and Australie certainly take after you, don't they?"

England's brows twitched fervently as he made a series of strangled choking starts at forming words. "I…it…you…they…. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING IN MY BED?" He wasn't sure whether he should be horrified, angry, or jealous at how well endowed the two evidently were, and opted to go for an awkward combination of the three.

"A-ah! Fuck!" America groaned, the familiar sticky white mess splashing over himself and Australia. England stared, mortified. He'd just washed those sheets yesterday, and they were completely ignoring him yelling at them in favor of ruining them.

America continued to ignore the two gaping at them from the door until Australia stiffened and America could feel him spill inside him. He released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Wow…" He pulled Australia down into a kiss.

"AMERICA! I KNOW YOU'RE IGNORING ME ON PURPOSE!"

Australia chuckled, pulling back from the kiss as America rolled his eyes, turning his head to look at England and France. "Not so fun when it's someone doing it on iyour/i bed, is it?"

England sputtered and turned, stalking out of the room.

France chuckled before turning to head out of the room. "Point taken." He waved over his shoulder as he followed England.

America looked back up at Australia and grinned. "Think it worked?"

Australia sighed. "I don't know. I think we should do it again for good measure." He leaned in, kissing America again.

America couldn't think of a single reason to say no.