Of Tea and Opium

by peony-and-poppy

A collection of England/China drabbles I've written. They're not continuous or linked in any way. Most are based off of fanart by my favourite artist. If you're curious, just ask, and I'll be happy to link you to her pixiv account. Others are based off of requests. Some are based off of other artist's fanworks. Rating varies. Enjoy!

13. Chapter 13

Rating: M
Pairing: England/China (even though it's actually China/England. No, I don't follow seme/uke roles OTL)
Word Count: 335

Notes: I feel out of place. Even my fave artist fails to draw top!China, le sob! So yeah, I will remedy that. I like me a bottom England. Am I the only one who thinks they switch 50/50?

China laughed. It wasn't malicious or cruel or taunting, but it made England's entire body shudder.

"What's so funny?"

The blindfold covering his green eyes frustrated him. He hated not being able to see the other nation—beautiful, smile in place, a hint of playfulness shining in his eyes—and not being able to touch him was even worse. They had done this countless times before, so England was all too familiar with that doting, teasing gaze and soft, delicate body. Still, that wasn't enough to console him. England needed to see those gold eyes looking only at him. He needed to feel Yao's warm skin and long silk-like hair.

"Aiya Arthur, stop struggling." A pause, then a playful, "As you say, relax and enjoy." China's voice lulled him, made something inside him flare.

He loved when China teased him, but his tie was wrapped too tightly around his eyes. It wouldn't fall off, no matter how much he struggled.

China leaned down. His teeth gently nipped at his bottom lip, crotch pressing deliciously against England's. England flicked his tongue out only to find that China had pulled back, just enough to be out of kiss's reach. China's breath tickled his lips, a whisper of a kiss making England tremble.

"Yao ..." England could barely speak. How could he? China's hands were slowly—teasingly—travelling down his chest, his lips and tongue and teeth following. It was almost too much for England, and he was suddenly glad the blindfold shielded him from glancing down and seeing China smile as he unzipped his pants.

"Lift," came the command. It was demanding and firm, though China's voice was barely audible. England complied and lifted his hips. The cool air rushed against his hot skin and England sucked in his breath.

Control. England hated losing control of a situation, but when China was the one delegating the rules—and touching and tasting and oh so mischievously kissing every inch of exposed skin—England could momentarily forget about dominating.