Lesse… This chapter includes innuendoes, hints of past USUK, mentions of France-molestation, more of elepaio's crack, and the origin of the title.
The title is kinda misleading, isn't it? Oh well.
elepaio's A/N: Oh. My fucking lord. I'm the one who betas these for comprehension/spelling, and I've become obsessed with Kuroshitsuji… so sorry, sorry, sorry for letting this sit so long. X.x
We will finish it though…! (I think… *shot by Rhen*)
America: *Puts on the face of an injured puppy just for show* And I was trying to be nice, how cruel. *He runs a hand through his hair, puppy expression melting into a distant, contemplative one* Okay, okay, let me think of something...
Russia: Be swift, this person seated next to me is feeling quite deprived of harmless attention~ *grins*
America: Nnnnnnngh, you're pressuring me! Stop that.
America: ... Gimmie a moment. I've been here for hours: I'm hungry. And it's HOT down here... Lemme turn on a fan and get something to eat. Back in a minute, less than.
Russia: *sighs, stretches, adjusts his scarf, gazes absentmindedly at the person next to him who contemplates requesting another seat*
America: *Throws himself back down onto the seat, one arm up in the air to protect his new delicious "meal"* Okay, I'm back.
America: Still can't think of anything.
America: So...
America: Whatcha doin'? *Takes a small bite off the tip of the cold treat*
Russia: Sitting on a plane. *irritable glare* Waiting for your incapable brain to conjure up a ques... Wait. Was that my question?
Russia: If so, allow me to give a far more adequate answer...
America: *Shrug* *Licks fingers, the dessert's getting messy* Yeah, it's yours. Told you I couldn't think of anything.
Russia: *smirk slicks across his features like oil over water* Ahhh then, Америка. I am... contemplating my arrival in Washington. You realize that I am now aware of your favorite position, your errogenous zone, and the experience that was most... pleasing for you~? I have assured you that you will live to regret forcing me to traverse a crowded plane cabin holding a pillow in front of my groin... I am deliberating how this will be exacted.
Russia: Additionally, I believe I guaranteed you a surprise, and am wondering what exactly this is going to entail... *deceptively sweet smirk*
Russia: ...Would you care for me to elaborate?~
America: Hey, I didn't tell you to walk around holding that flimsy little pillow!
America: You just decided to.
Russia: ...It was most decidedly your fault.
America: And elaboration is not necessary.
America: I simply answered your question, it's your fault for asking it!
Russia: ... *glares*
Russia: And it's your fault for inviting me to Moscow.
America: You should have anticipated the result.
America: You invited yourself!
America: And...
America: NOT TO MOSCOW.
America: WASHINGTON.
America: That's your capitol, not mine!
Russia: *purrs* I was merely checking to see if your aptitude *snicker* in geography was extended to locations within your own country. It appears you are more attentive than I had presumed... your intelligence never ceases to amaze me.
Russia: Actually, Америка, though it may be early evening for you, it's quite late in Moscow... and I have not been sleeping... well... lately.
Russia: Missing... you...
America: Russ-ia? *His mind phases into blank as he stares at the last two words* Missing... *He shakes his head ever so slightly, a smirk making its way to his face* Aww, how cute, my little pony misses me... It's okay, I'm right here~ *The smirk melts off his face as he looks ahead softly, there is no way in hell he could ever admit to you what he knows, he has too much pride* 'I miss you more than you'll ever know. And you will never know... I can't let you...'
America: Seriously though, I am right here.
America: I kinda have a problem with leaving.
America: So... You can talk to me whenever...
America: If that... helps... *He feels somewhat like an idiot, but decides he needs to say that*
Russia: Америка... *gazes intently at the upholstery lining the seat positioned directly in front of him, postponing dealing with the discomfort of the situation for a few additional moments*
Russia: I am... not your little pony. 'And I didn't mean to say that... never intended to... let you know.'
Russia: I... it is your turn to answer the question. *gives a resigned exhale* What are you doing right now?
Russia: *allows his tensed muscles to relax somewhat, confident that he has threaded through the delicate situation*
America: *A smirk that can almost be called seductively evil slides onto his face* Sucking. Licking. Nipping. Lapping at juices that spill onto my hand, and I should probably slow down or I'll be done much too soon, but I don't want to and it's so good~
America: It heats up too fast in this enviornment, it's... very... difficult... To do this comfortably...
America: Or cleanly...
America: It's all messy...
America: And sticky...
Russia: *blinks*... *blinks again*... *makes a sound somewhere between a snicker and a scoff* ...I am almost confident that you are not jerking off while sitting in front of the computer screen. You tend to have difficulty forming coherent thought when you are not aroused, so I doubt that you would possess the clarity to communicate in a remotely intelligent manner. Additionally, this has hardly been the, shall we say, ideal atmosphere for such an action. Additionally, I believe you just visited the refrigerator... and, being aware of your notorious eating habits...
Russia: ...Is it safe to presume that you are eating ice cream?
America: Nope~
Russia: Then what are you doing...? *confidence falters slightly, fringing on concerned*
America: *Grin widens as he presses the sweet to his teeth* You were close, though, I have to give it to you.
America: I have a popsicle~
Russia: I will refrain from commenting...
America: I'm out of ice cream, only reason I don't have any. It's seriously boiling down here, this thing is melting fast and it would probably be cooler if I opened a window...
America: But the window's all the way over there.
Russia: The extent of your laziness is unfathomable.
Russia: And yet the effort required to walk to the refrigerator in the other room does not seem to have inconvenienced you in the slightest...
America: That one had food. There is a difference.
Russia: ...It remains a wonder to me how with your one-track mind you have avoided becoming as obese as many of your inhabitants.
America: Sex burns calories.
America: *chews his cheek as he rereads the impulsive words, aware that he's flaunting his many fierce "romps" with Russia*
Russia: Still, America. Your lack of body fat remains a miraculous occurrence, because I burn at least as many calories as you during sex, *amused snicker* yet you consume twice as many as I due to your fatty diet.
America: I burn it all. I still move around, running errands or riding, and there are the nights where I jer- *Catches himself*
America: Never mind. Your turn.
Russia: *his fingers fiddle aimlessly at the fringes of his scarf, as he hums through his teeth, deliberating* Hnnnn~
Russia: Your first kiss.
America: *blinks, surprised by the rather "soft" question* Um, my...
America: First kiss ever or the first one I agreed to?
Russia: Tell me both. *frowns slightly* I find it rather... odd... that you recieved a first kiss before you agreed to one. Did England take advantage of you in your youth...? *allocates a piercing stare, determining that if this is the case England will soon find himself ripped limb from limb or comparatively maimed*
America: Not Iggy, he's kind of a prude...
Russia: Let me guess... France.
America: Your mind-reading abilities are amazing.
America: *rolls eyes*
Russia: ...Why thank you. I am flattered. *sarcastic smirk*
Russia: And the circumstances of this kiss with France...?
America: Actually... Both of my first kisses occurred on the same day. Within hours of each other... Before I was a real nation and just a colony.
America: I'd gone out on my own, something Iggy said NEVER TO DO EVER, but I did it anyway. It was BORING back at the house, nothing to really do. And I'd decided to play in the creek that was nearby, I was young enough to enjoy light activities like that but old enough to be a little wiser about it then a five-year-old.
America: A few hours into my new game, France just showed up. At the time, I didn't find it odd, but now I know he came to "claim" me. *shudders* Anyway, we were just talking at that point, myself already halfway drenched in creekwater and my shoes coated in grime when he did something, I forget what, and nearly slid in. Iggy had taught me enough at that point that I ran right through the creek to push him back onto the bank, entirely soaking myself in the process.
America: So there I was, dressed in a sopping wet white button-down and pants, with France standing shakily on his feet, wide-eyed. But then he got what we all know now as the "perverted smirk" and decided that he had to thank me, really thank me for saving him and his clothes and his hair.
America: At that age, I feared the smirk.
America: Iggy told me it meant bad things...
America: Anyways, I started to try and tell him that "no, you don't have to, it's fine, really" when he grabbed me about the shoulders - Really grabbed me, pulling me up onto the bank with him and then he grabbed my chin and pulled my face upwards, crashing his lips with mine and, without my consent, shoved his tongue down my throat.
America: Okay, maybe not to that extreme, but still.
Russia: ...France. I feel there is no need to elaborate...
Russia: He searches for the most opportunistic circumstances to take advantage of you... *remembers his best time and half-cringes*
Russia: Do tell me about the other kiss.
America: Right.
America: Anyway, I didn't like it. Not at all, he was too suffocating and I was JUST A KID and I couldn't BREATHE so I started thrashing and finally just punched him in the gut so that he dropped me and doubled over.
America: You can't blame me, France is just... France.
America: As he spluttered on the ground, I took the opportunity to run back to the house, deciding that, while France was out there, it was time to stop playing.
Russia: You seem to have been more sensible in your youth. Remind me, just when did the idiocy set in...? *eyes glimmering*
America: After entirely washing up, changing, and hiding the evidence of my fun, I came downstairs and there was Iggy, all prim and proper with just a slight hint of attitude masked by uncertainty of how to handle me. As always, I was happy to see him, really happy, he could keep France AWAY from my house and then I wouldn't have to deal with the frog.
America: *Glares*
Russia: *deceptively sweet smile*
America: Around the time you showed up. Ashen-haired people kill brain cells.
Russia: No, I distinctly remember your reputation for ignorance and rash impulsivity circulating for years before I ever came in contact with you, my dear~.
Russia: But we digress. Please, continue.
America: All lies.
America: Alright, sure.
Russia: Ftttttttttttttt.
Russia: *eye roll*
America: ... Whatever.
America: So, as usual, Iggy was awkward and slightly confused. I got him to play a few games with me, though, and then... Well, he found my discriminating evidence.
America: I got yelled at.
America: Until I told him that France was here...
America: He made me tell him the entire story, leaving shortly after to beat the shit out of France. I know because I decided to follow him...
America: So, anyway, after France was reduced to a bleeding mass that just wouldn't die, he came back to me and asked "Is there anything that I can do, undo his..." Here he glared in the general direction of the Frenchie. "Evil perverted mischief?"
America: And, at that time I had a crush on Iggy. I really did, I can relate it to some of those girls in Japan's comics... Whatever they're called. So, I said "Yes, there is. Get his taste out of my mouth." Iggy offered to cook. *Shudders* I used to think it was good cooking then, but that wasn't what I wanted and I told him so. So he asked what he could possibly do, and I told him, "This."
America: And then I kissed him. It was sweet, chaste, but it slowly got a lot hotter the second he realized he wanted it too. He started getting dominating - not as much as France, but still somewhat. He didn't force his tongue down my throat, but lapped at my lips instead with an amazing gentleness. Until I decided that I was old enough to- Oh yeah, forgot to tell you I was physically around 15. Until I decided that I was old enough to have a little more than this gentleness and I took the lead, entering his mouth slowly, trying not to act like The Pervert.
America: I remember he tasted like tea... And bread... with an underlying hint of alcohol, which I only identified much later.
Russia: It's astounding that you can relate your first kiss with such detail. I'm afraid my own recountment will seem far lacking. But then again, you have merely two and a half centuries of memories to contend with, while my first kiss occurred over one thousand years ago. *slight, ironic smile*
Russia: It was with the Roman Empire.
America: O.o
America: Italy's grandfather?
Russia: Yes... do you see something wrong with this? *eyes narrow suspiciously*
America: My brain is just dying with all the... people you have been with...
America: So...
America: Strange...
America: France, Spain, Romano, Sealand, a human...
America: ...
America: Ancient Rome...
Russia: Америка, I believe I have slept with the entirety of the European continent at one time or another. *flippant smile*
America: ... *Massages temples* My head hurts...
Russia: Not to mention the myriad assortment of humans who have struck my fancy... *types this with a completely straight face, then breaks into a mocking grin*
America: J- Just get on with it. *His sense of jealousy begins to arise within him but he decidedly quenches it, attempting to reason that you are ancient, it is only natural for you to have had more lovers than you can count...*
Russia: *clicks his tongue softly against the roof of his mouth* The Roman Empire... he was somewhat of a role model to me, I suppose. He was the first nation I came in contact with for a prolonged period of time, and had a great influence on my developing culture. *short exhale* Nnnn... my memories of the actual event are hazy, forgive me.
Russia: I met him near my westernmost borders, and we... perhaps it was not a first kiss in your sense of the term. It was more of a way to consummate an agreement...a thank-you, a reaction to a gift. I didn't feel anything for him, romantically, but he imparted Christianity to me, and at the time it seemed... an appropriate response. Young as I was, I still towered over him... I believe I initiated the kiss, which was at first just an awkward brushing of lips, as I was at a loss as to how to move my mouth to invoke a pleasurable sensation. He rapidly took control of the kiss, and coaxed my shy lips into the appropriate shapes... He was an excellent kisser, although I wouldn't have known it at the time.
Russia: He slipped his tongue into my mouth, and it was the first time I ever recall shivering sensually. His breath was sweet, cloying, like fine Italian wine, and his whiskers were sharp and uncomfortable against the tender skin on my chin and throat.
Russia: I... what struck me most was the warmth. I'd rarely encountered it before, and never as intensely. Once it was experienced, I became infatuated - driven to attain the slick, moist heat.
Russia: So began a brief era of arbitrarily pursuing, cajoling, and kissing humans... *closes his eyes and gives a light, inaudible hum, as if scoffing at his eccentricism*
America: *His mouth opens and closes, the starts of words on his tongue but they die before actually becoming legible* K- Ro- You- Heat... *His eyes become lidded in a mocking disbelief* You sound as bad as France. Seriously.
America: So now I get to blame Ancient Rome for your obsession?
America: It's like you're OCD about it or something now.
Russia: *eyebrows furrow slightly in irritation* Well... if you put it that way, yes. You may blame Ancient Rome.
Russia: *directs a frigid glare at the screen* I firmly believe that I would be infatuated with heat no matter whether I obtained my first kiss from Ancient Rome, England, or Romania. Anyone, perhaps, with the exception of Mongolia.
America: Then I'd blame anyone. As long as it isn't all my fault...
Russia: In that case, it most certainly is completely your fault. *smug smirk*
America: No take-backs, little pony, you already said that I have all the rights to blame Rome.
Russia: ...*hums lightly, unabashedly disregarding your previous statement* It is your turn for a question, dear.
Russia: ...Or are you still hung up over the fact that I spent several centuries pursuing humans at my leisure?
America: *scoffs, ignoring the question* Fine then, if you're going to be like that, then what is it that you miss about me? It's got to be something if you're losing sleep over it.
It's my (Rhen's) job to cut chapters… So deal with the cliffhanger! Or be… um, French-kissed by my cat or something. Not have your vital regions invaded by Prussia… You might enjoy that… No, you'll probably definitely enjoy that… So yeah. Frenchied by my cat.
Reviews are appreciated! A lot!
OH! And, um, it's kinda my fault but I got elepaio hooked on Kuroshitsuji (and if I had the chance, I'd show all of you it too) and we have become obsessed with Grell and Sebby. So… We may lag in this roleplay, but we will not abandon it! I am determined to roleplay a lemon (yes, I am a pervert. So sue me)!
elepaio adds: You know the time when Russia said Moscow instead of Washington? I'm so embarrassed by that… but, hey, we were roleplaying at three in the morning! Not exactly completely coherent! That's a valid excuse, right…? X'D