This was getting ridiculous.
"Lemme sharpen my sword~"
"Don't call it that."
England rubbed his eyes, finding himself becoming more and more unaroused every second America wasted with this joke he had going on now that he seemed to think was quite hilarious despite the fact England was quite certain his mind should be more focused on not scuffing the meeting table beneath them, himself flushed on top of it, and getting the damn lube on his "sword" faster.
"I told you a "quick" one, the others are going to show up any bloody minute and your fucking around with-"
"Do you calls yours Excalibur, King Arthur?" America said in a low purr, and England wasn't sure if it was his words or the others knuckle prodding against his entrance that had made his eyes roll back.
"W-what does that even...m-mean.."
"I'll be your lady of the lake."
America bent over the others body in between his legs and pressed kisses along his collarbone. Lingering hot and wet in the dip of his breast as he pushed that knuckle in and gave his wrist a twist. England's back arching up from the table and his legs almost closing tight around the others waist, trying to hold him there and get his mind out of the works of Sir Thomas Malory. Not that he didn't mind terrible the idea that America might have actually been reading for once but now was not entirely the best time for a literature circle.
"If-if you don't put it in in five seconds I'm going to do it myself."
"I'll put the sword in the stone soon enough, chill out." he trailed his tongue over a pert nipple, teasing it until it went tight from the attention. America gave it a tug between his teeth until the other arched more, his chest lifting up into that wet heat and his back dipping in to angle his hips down for America to easily slide a finger inside. England groaned loud and bucked up, clutching tight around that one finger and trying hard to make it enough when it wasn't. His channel hot and dry around the cool wet fingers that now spread and coated his walls with the lube.
"....I thought I was a sword?"
"I KNOW. I can be Lancelot and you can be Arthur!"
The Brit tried to angle his hips up to just start to fuck himself for god's sake. Twisting and rocking forward to get his finger in, just to get it to rub. He was losing his erection. He let his head hit back into the table with a loud sigh that he let mix in with a groan that made his throat raw.
"Clearly you have not read the books or you would know the affair was with Gweni-"
The name was lost in a sudden and sharp cry as America took the hint and started to thrust not the one, but two fingers inside him. Suddenly stretching him and pressing right against- right there..
"T-that's...better..tha-"
"Oh, so would rather be a woman...instead?" the blond panted a bit, stepping up a bit he put his other hand at the back of England's thigh and pushed it in, thrusting and frotting himself on the others inner thigh.
"Kiku...could be Arthur. He has a sword too you know."
England all but thrashed in frustration, or maybe he was still trying to fuck himself right while the other continued to babble idly while he was going half out of his mind with trying to just fucking get his hips angled right (which the other had been nice enough to fuck up by moving his leg).
"...oh dash it all. I'll be Arthur for Christ's sake, now would you kindly just put it-"
America was way ahead of the game this time. Stroking the inside of his walls the friction from the movement sending heat and pressure right against his prostate. That was good, good enough to make him stop talking and start moaning. Breathing the others name as he felt his body going hot and getting pert and hard again. His cheeks flushing up in arousal making the even the haze of his eyes stand out sharply. He attempted to spread that leg again but America held fast to it, thrusting and chaffing his skin with the denim of his jeans.
"You... complain a lot, my lord." he panted, grinning at the corner of his lips as he spread England's leg now (would he make up his sodding mind) and pushed the tip into him, rocking slow.
"Would you please just-"
"Oh I plan to. I'll slay that dragon nice and hard...right at the weak point!"
".......I hate you."
"Haha. You're gonna moan so loud anyway, my lord."
"Bloody hell- we...h-aahve..ten minutes.."
"You're only going to need three."
"Thirty at this sodding rate."