Warning: sexually hinting, smut-ish, and kissy~
Being the most scariest nation on the planet and the second super powered nation as well, I hate being the only one not having a job at the moment. If there ever was a job for me. Luckily for me, I already got one made for me only. And that was making food, currently America and Canada are busy up stairs, then there's Prussia and Italy checking for something useful in France's house.
From my current search, I found directly three pistols, one rifle, three grenades on the top shelf in a wooden box labeled "National Caution" (though I don't know why "National" is on it but whatever) and several swords. I know France love swords but this makes me have a feeling he has a kink for sharp pointing metal. Whatever, I move away from the island with the weapons to the stove.
Thinking, I looked through the fridge to something looks rather nice to make some food with. That was until I found some hamburger meat... Shrugging it off I place the meat into a sink. Walking back to the table I took off my coat, gloves, scarf, and walk back to the sink. Humming nonchalantly through the beat, washing hands, each with smooth circles wide and narrow as bubbles appear to form on my skin. Signing almost quietly, having water hit my skin sent chills down my spine. Quickly shaking it off, I got the soap off and dried my hands completely. Going to work, pulling a knife out of the cupboards and soon unwrap the confined meat.
Leaving it on the plastic container, I began to search for something else to hold the hamburger in. Long and behold a blue medium size bowl was perfect for this moment, nodding I drag it besides the meat and grab necessities for this fabulous meal. Chuckling to myself, I began to work.
Tapping, moving my whole body to the self minding beat of the song, playing and replaying over and over. Shifting to the right then roughly to the left, moving my hip along side, bobbling my head as I meshed the meat into the bowl and pour the ingredients in. Humming lightly then loudly then quietly, through the music.
Nearly snapping my fingers but realize they were busy with the meat, and instead tapping my back heel to the song. Then soon, being caught into the song, singing lowly. Without even realizing how "lowly" that I was to really being "loudly low". It was a weird combination but it works when you have a very sexy accent.
Bending the meat swiftly, mushing it, then lightly pulling it out and place it into-
Yeah... got so caught into the song to pull out a pan or even a pot. Well then, quickly placing the meat back into the bowl and after washing my hands I began my quest for a pot. After the search I found out the pot are in the cabinets below the marble sinks. Should've known about that, shaking it off, I continued on making something to eat.
Noting the recent things, I began to suspect that it has to be someone either inside or maybe placed a bug in the building... or buildings! Thinking a little more, I start to think how everything went down. One moment America acts like a FBI agent then the next We don't know if the other made it out and of course Italy isn't himself. No, it's like-
Pausing for a second to remember the recipe that requires one-thirds tbs (tablespoons) of red wine for the grilled onions, then some other items. Humming little more then sang
"Me and my sins go toe to toe"
Nodding my head, I finally finished the meat and then placed it into a skillet. Turning it on medium, I washed my hands while singing..
"Im no good for you, no, this heart aint build for two so runaway runaway..."
It wasn't long as a began to dance to the imaginary song playing in my mind, shaking, chest moving in sequence which seemed to connect with my hips.
Afterwords, I cleaned up the mess ,which was barely any but I don't care. Looking to my left I saw a little flash of light. There were two photos, photos of a family. One was France on the top left, England on the top right, America (younger) next to England with those bright blue eyes and big grin showing that no frown can conquer that face, and finally Canada next to France with his little bear wrapped up in his tiny arms smiling lightly.
The other one was the same but America and Canada were older. France to the left but sitting in a chair, Canada sitting in front of France with his bear, America behind England holding the top of the chair, England sitting in a chair in front of America while holding a cup of tea (it seems?).
Noticing this, I moved one of them. Looking at it closely I saw how America looked older in some ways. But yet is so young into understanding about what seems to be happening. "Is this the place where I can buy a front row seat of the greatest singer?" Jumping higher than anyone could and a quick swift turn to see one stran of hair that refuse to stay down. Sky blue eyes that shine stars in the sunlight. That cowboy cocky grin to make any woman melt. Alfred F. Jones or known to us as America.
I could feel my heart do flips as I saw him. Though I hate his guts but I have werid feeling towards him, Chuckling "You are lucky, no one came just yet."
Moving slowly I came closer to him while holding the photo. I could still see his cocky smile hasnt left his face but it doesnt matter. I twisted my face into a smile but not as cocky. Noticing this, he moved his hands behind my hair. Running it throughly, sending shives down my spline. His eyes were stairing into mine, as if we know what to do, I move my hands behind his back forcing him closer to me. Chest to chest, i thought my heart wouldnt mess up anything but instead he almost roughly rubbed his erriction onto mine.
Did i ever mentioned about me hating my dick that is throbbing uncontrollably. Apperantly it turned on America, smiling lightly i move my hands underneath his ass. Gentally gropping it, i could see his smile.
Thats when i remembered about the food, i spoke in hushed toned. "I hope you like dinner tonight~" Chuckles were heard during the wholw thing. "Everything you make is good for me~"