Arthur rattled his brains for a quick escape. Trapped in a room that wasn't on the ground floor made the ordeal difficult to flee from. The only way out was either through the door the devil was gradually breaking through or the window. But where would he go afterwards? It was still raining down heavily and the phone line was down, not that he had anyone to call.
The devil would easily be able to corner him, especially since Arthur was suffering a hangover and therefore in a weaker state. But America had weaknesses too. Everyone had a weakness whether they admitted to it or not. What in his house could be used to keep the American devil away?
There must be something in his study room. There were a few protection charms in there to keep the devil away long enough for Arthur to research a spell to reverse this mess.
The door shook dangerously and he felt unicorn's teeth tugging on his sleeve. Right. Out of the window and to the basement, that was the plan!
"Leave now!" Arthur hissed to his friends as he shoved the window open. He ignored their protests and peered down at the soaking grassy patch beneath him. Oh how he wished he was younger: he would have easily been able to make the jump back then.
He climbed onto the ledge and held his breath. Maybe he could slip around the devil and run down the stairs instead?
"Briiiiiitain!"
It was either the adrenaline caused by fear or the remaining alcohol in his system but Arthur's feet took flight and launched off the windowsill.
His head rushed and his vision blurred. There was a heavy thud against ground, softened barely by the absorbed rainwater. For a brief moment, he couldn't move. He laid there, panting. The pain in his ankle eased by the cool drops of rain on his bare skin.
Arthur couldn't stay here.
He pushed himself up, barely noticing the little helping hand of the brownie beside him, and limped to the back door. It was already opened for him. Careful not to slip on the floor from the water dripping off him, Arthur rested against the closest counter to over come his dizziness.
"That was harsh."
Pushing his soaking wet hair out of his eyes, Arthur glared towards the devil. Alfred was leaning in the doorway, smiling casually. He looked completely relaxed but there was a tension in the air. Damn bastard was going to get it when Arthur reached his room.
"Why are you here?" Arthur asked coldly. "And where is the real America?"
Alfred pouted. "You're not happy to see me? I was happy to see you."
"Answer me."
"He's fine. He's currently rolling in a pit in Hell. You know how it is ~"
Arthur gritted his teeth. Messing with dark magic made it clear to what kind of torture America would be going through. Not that he cared but still. It wasn't pretty and no one deserved that treatment. There wasn't going to be anyone else to help get America back either.
"Bring him back."
"Why?" Alfred blinked, looking genuinely confused.
"Listen here, you blunt bloody twat. You cocked up big time if you think I'll just let you wonder in and do as you bloody well like! Well, that's not going to happen. You bring that prat back here or -"
A hand went over his mouth. The relaxed smile on the devil's face was gone. "Shut up," he said in a dark tone. Arthur could feel something sharp digging into his cheek but didn't back down. He pulled back and turned his head, giving Alfred a dark glare.
With the Englishman silent, the devil smiled again. "I'm sorry," he apologised, pressing his hand down beside the counter to trap Arthur in place. "I didn't mean to be harsh. I only came to see you."
"You've seen me. Now go."
Alfred pouted again and leant in, seeing Arthur tense up. "I want to see more of you," he whispered delicately in Arthur's ear. "Let me help you out of those wet clothes and warm you up. You might catch a cold."
"Oh I get it now. You came all this way just to get me in bed," Arthur said sarcastically, placing his hands in front of himself to keep some distance between them. But it did no good. Alfred was already pressed too close for comfort. The devil was teasing his lips down the side of Arthur's neck. The warm breath on his cold wet skin was making his toes curl.
"Precisely," Alfred whispered.
"I-i was joking."
"I'm not."
Arthur shut his eyes tightly as the devil began to lavish his neck with kisses. The warm contrast on sensitive skin was making Arthur's head rush all over again. His hand grasped Alfred's shirt to keep upright. The kisses ran from his neck and along to his shoulder, Alfred pulling the soaking wet shirt away. The Brit almost whined with frustrated need when the American stopped and glanced back at him.
The devilish smile was back. Before either said a word, their lips met in heated passion. Every common sense in his body was telling him to back away but the buried lust was too strong to fight. He wanted Alfred and he wanted him now.
Alfred's head jerked forward, instantly ending their make out. The devil turned around with a sharp gaze and Arthur could see the remains of his jam Victorian sponge cake dripping down the blond locks of hair. A pastry was thrown straight into the devil's face this time. Panting, Arthur wiped his mouth dry and looked over Alfred's shoulder to see his friends by the fridge - throwing everything they could at him.
Snapping back to reality, Arthur's hand patted across the counter until he rested upon a squeezable bottle. He flipped the lid and pointed it straight at the American. As Alfred wiped the food away from his face, he looked back at Arthur only to receive more. Only this time, Alfred fell back, hissing in pain as though acid had been thrown instead. Curious, Arthur peered at the bottle's label.
Marmite.
That was Alfred's weakness?!
Hearing the pleas of his friends, Arthur took the chance and ran around Alfred. His ankle pain no longer bothered him.
Alfred hissed louder, his fingers almost clawing at his face to attempt to remove the poison. It didn't help with Arthur's friends throwing the remains in the fridge at him. Temper reaching its peak, he straightened up. Crystal blue blazed his clawed hand. With petrified glances exchanged, the magical community vanished on the spot.
The devil wiped his face clean on the back of his sleeve, not caring for his smudged glasses, and then continue his search for the Briton. Cautiously checking the door for enchantments, he pushed it open and stepped inside.
"I'm not here to hurt you," he said in a sorrow filled voice. "I only wanted to see you."
Arthur did not look up until he completed the circle and its chalky symbols. Brushing his hands clean, he gave Alfred a scornful expression. "Why would I believe anything you have to say? You're nothing but a black-hearted devil."
There was no mistaken the playful smile. To Arthur's horror, Alfred stepped into the circle and closed the space between them again. "You forgot that this is not my form. I can pass through your spells." His smile grew at Arthur's angry expression. "Or maybe you knew that and only playing hard to get? A little payback?" He didn't give Arthur time to reply. Their lips met in fleeting kiss. "Let me lavish you," Alfred whispered, "Let me have you for one day and then I'll go. I swear."
If this was the only way to get him to leave... "You're the worst," Arthur groaned, yanking Alfred down for a more passionate kiss.
"Are you sure this will work?"
"Of course. Your bond to the vessel is far stronger than its forged bond to the prick."
Alfred sat cross-legged upon the hard stone floor. It was making his bottom feel cold and uncomfortable so he was constantly shifting around. Or so he thought. It was that or accepting the fact he was really uncomfortable with being so close to the devil that's toyed around with his damn life. But first thing was to get away from him. Then he'll find a way out of this mess.
"What happens if it does work?"
The devil turned upside down, his hair falling far enough to hide most of the tiny horns on his head. "You'll be sent to limbo. It's a neutral zone. He'll be there too. What happens after that depends purely on you. Either way, I'll be expecting one of you to drop - "
Arthur switched back onto his front and dropped his legs down to the floor. His head crooked back a few inches and his eyes fixed upon a spot on the ceiling. Something big was happening for the creature's expression changed to one that Alfred couldn't quite recognise.
"What is it?" the country asked, placing a hand down from his knee to the floor, ready to push himself up if needed.
"You'll have to be quick. Time is about to pass you."
"What do you mean?"
"I told you, didn't I? If they have sex then it's game over for you. Well, guess what's now happening!"
Alfred's mouth went dry. No way. Britain, the Britain, was going to have sex with him – no, not him. A devil in his body. It made his blood boil. He couldn't accept that! There was no way an impostor was going to -
"Quit it! I told you to focus!"
"All right! Sheez."
America closed his eyes again and tried to think about his body. His pure-blooded American body... that was currently pressed against England's. He could feel a lump forming in his throat as he thought about the flushed cheeks Arthur would have and the sweet tingle left behind on his lips after every french-kiss. Hands would stroke all over while Arthur groans beneath him and Alfred would take great satisfaction in knowing that he could make Britain do that.
He could hear his heart beating in his chest. This was so wrong. He had to focus on getting back! Back to his rightful place... where Britain would be begging for his -
"Would it help to ease your mind before you continue?"
Alfred swallowed hard and kept his eyes stubbornly closed. He could feel a pair of arms link around his neck and a finger brushing the back of his neck. It jerked his body closer and left behind a tingle in his spine. Alfred whimpered. Lips brushed his and he hungrily leant in.
After a playful tease of his tongue, the devil coaxed Alfred into opening his mouth. A throbbing sensation grew in his pants. Seeing nothing but darkness, Alfred pictured Britain closing against him. He could feel the breath between each sloppy kiss and a hand creeping closer to his regions. Yes, he begged, let him touch it.
He didn't protest as the devil eased him down onto the floor. He hissed from the coldness against his back. A hand slid under his ripped shirt. Alfred forgotten how exposed he was. The devil's mouth drifted to his neck. Alfred inhaled sharply, his groans now free to fill in the room.
He never thought such impure thoughts of England before but now, it was like a long time wish being fulfilled. "Wh-what's going on...?" Alfred stammered. His body was heating up under the devil's hand: every flex on the wrist was making his member twitch with excitement.
"It's a shared response," the devil whispered, "They're feeling the lust and so do we."
Arthur's hand crept closer to Alfred's groin until it was suddenly snatched in a tighter grip than intended. Alfred bit his bottom lip. If they were feeling this heated up then the clock was ticking down. "Then we need to hurry," he said, pulling the devil back slowly. "Tell me what I have to do."
The red-head gave him a piercing stare before backing away. Self-control was difficult to master but the two managed by avoiding any further glances and touches.
"Sit up," Arthur ordered, returning to his book. "Focus and I can get you there. The rest will be up to you so don't screw up."
"Gotcha."
Ignoring the raging passion passing through his body, Alfred sat up and took a deep breath in then closed his eyes. Focus. Focus on his body. Focus on saving his country from the devil impostor.