Title: Love is a Thing to Become and Eternally Be
Rating: M. And it's not just for swearing.
Pairings: America/Canada/America
Warnings: Uh, sex between male nations (though honestly, if you're reading Hetalia fanfic you cannot be surprised), violence and slight historical liberties in places. Specifically in this chapter, THERE IS SEX. If you don't wish to read it, send a PM and I can give you the low down of what happens (though not much really, it's mostly porn).
Disclaimer: Standard and not actually useful disclaimer goes here.
Author's Notes: De-anon from the kink meme, no doubt a few people recognize this. I'll slowly post edited chapters here, once a week or so. I won't give a schedule, I'll never follow it. Please leave a review, it feeds my ego, I mean, makes me happy.
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1896 comes, and Matthew, Alfred notes, seems to be having a crisis. "How are you and I supposed to separate America and Alfred and Canada and Matthew," Matthew's eyes are wide, and he sounds a little hysteric. The issue has been brought up before, but Alfred has tried to avoid thinking about it for years.
"I don't know, but we have to make it work," Alfred means it, they have to make it work. He knows this is unprecedented, neither of them have slept with anyone else, despite Matthew having various trade agreements.
They have both seen the European nations, they fight and hate and for the most part their idea of love is so fickle Alfred sometimes wonders how anyone can live like that. To France and England, at least, what they're doing would no doubt be called foolish, monogamy is not an option in Europe, but here it's different. Alfred knows, he knows with every fibre of his being, every blade of grass, every cell, that he and Matthew belong with one another.
"I don't know Mattie, but we'll do it, I promise." Matthew just looks at him for a moment, and Alfred, seeing the look in his eyes, pushes away from the table their at. He kneels down next to Matthew, eyes locked, one hand cupping the others face the other gently grasping his wrist. "I promise Matthew Williams, I do," Matthew leans into his palm, nuzzling it lightly.
"Okay," he breaths, and then grins, "okay." Alfred laughs in delight at the trust in his lovers eyes before pressing their mouths together. Matthew's mouth is soft, but not pliant under his. Alfred's tongue flicks out, brushing softly against his lovers bottom lip. After a moment, Matthew lets him in, sighing a little, and Alfred's lips turn up, tickled by the slight breath. Matthew's lips quirk up as well, an emphatic response, and Alfred, unable to respond further with his mouth, lets his hands tangle in Matthew's hair.
Moving his hand off Matthew's wrist, however, throws off his balance, and Alfred pitches forward into Matthew. The other blond catches him, pulling away from the kiss, his face flushed. "I think we need a bed," Matthew breaths, and a trill goes up Alfred's spine in response.
Nodding, Alfred stands up, tugging a willing Matthew after him as they make their way quickly to the closest bedroom. It isn't very big, but it's cozy and comfortable and for Alfred reflects Matthew perfectly. The elder of the two countries sits down on the bed, pulling the other on top of him. Matthew allows this, though he lands with a slight 'oof'. Alfred grins broadly at this, and Matthew manages to make the eyebrow he raises look dry, which just elicits a larger grin.
Matthew screws up his nose slightly, pushing off Alfred until he's sitting up, straddling his hips. "How did that not bother you?" he demands, pouting slightly. Alfred grins again, grins more and Matthew has a sudden flash of what exactly it is Alfred's mouth could be doing. The thought makes him blush, but Alfred doesn't remark on it, instead opting to answer his earlier question.
"You're lighter than air, darlin'," he says, drawling lazily, playing up his good old southern charm. Matthew shivers in response, biting his lip as Alfred's hands trail slowly up and down his sides.
"'m not," he murmurs softly, eyes drifting shut as the petting continues. Alfred doesn't respond right away, instead staying his hands on Matthew's hips.
"Well, no," he agrees, "but you really aren't all that heavy." It sounds like a statement, but it isn't. Alfred wants to know why his brother, his lover, is so much lighter than he should be. Matthew squirms a little, brushing against Alfred's half hard cock and making his breath hitch, Matthew shoots him an apologetic look before trying to explain.
"New immigrants," he says, eyes fixed on Alfred's chest, "the prairies." Alfred nods, a silent request to explain further. "They're just having some troubles, with the winters and the soil, they're also having trouble with housing and," he pauses, still looking at Alfred's chest, "it's hard." Alfred understands, new immigrants cause all sorts of problems, because they bring new ideas, new potential for both the good and the bad, but they can bring such joy too. Not being able to help them hurts.
"They'll be fine Matt," he assures him quietly, "now, is my chest really that interesting?" Matthew is silent, but from under his lashes he flashes Alfred a look. That's all the warning Alfred gets before Matthew leans down and licks where he knows Alfred's nipple is. Alfred swears at this, automatically bringing his hand up to the back of Matthew's head.
Understanding completely, Matthew laps at the covered nipple again, his other hand coming up to gently flick the other. Alfred groans a little, and than louder, when Matthew sucks on one, ignoring the shirt, pairing it with a firm, but not painful, twist with his hand. Matthew pulls away at that, smirking at Alfred. "Oh it really is," he tells him, and Alfred chuckles weakly at that.
"Tease," he says, and Matthew once again arches an eyebrow, before deliberately grinding down on Alfred's erection. Alfred growls at that, quickly flipping them over. Matthew doesn't even blink, just arches his back so he's flush with Alfred, chest to chest.
"Me?" He asks coyly, and Alfred presses their mouths together again to shut him up.
"Yes you," he says, rubbing his nose against Matthew's fondly before kissing the tip, "but I don't mind." Matthew giggles at him, turning his head slightly as Alfred trails kisses from his nose to the corners of his mouth, down his jaw and then to his neck. Alfred licks and nips lightly at the place just behind Matthew's ear, and then again at the juncture between neck and shoulder. Matthew whines a bit at this, a soft happy sound. Alfred, who hasn't stopped smiling, keeps on doing so, right up until one of Matthew's hands dips down to stroke his inner thigh.
"Christ!" Alfred yelps a little as the hand comes just close enough to his crotch to make an impact. Matthew gives him a lazy grin at the reaction, and Alfred glares a little. "That is exactly what I mean," he says firmly.
Matthew has the good taste to look a little abashed, before he sits up again, one hand coming up to start unbuttoning Alfred's shirt, nimble fingers making quick work of them. The other hand comes down fully onto the crotch of Alfred's pants, palming him slowly, making the other moan and push down into his hand.
"I apologize," Matthew says seriously, continuing to stroke Alfred through his trousers. He smirks a little, stopping his hand and bringing both up to push off Alfred's shirt, pushing on Alfred's shoulders until he's on his back. "Let me make it up to you," he requests earnestly. Alfred nods breathlessly, mind working to figure out what Matthew has planned.
It doesn't take long to figure out. Matthew trails his hands down Alfred's chest until he comes to the waist of Alfred's trousers. Quickly he pulls them down, taking Alfred's undergarment with them until his mouth is exactly level with the head of Alfred's cock. He looks at Alfred for a moment, his teeth sunk into his bottom lip and his eyes wide in the most erotic display of faux innocence Alfred has ever seen. Matthew, seeing his lovers eyes widen, rests his mouth softly on the tip of the organ in front of him, flicking his tongue out to taste Alfred's slit.
Alfred swears like a cowboy at that, head falling back and hips canting up. "Ugh," he says, and Matthew understands, slowly sliding down until he reaches the base. Alfred is none too secretly fond of the fact Matthew appears to have no gag reflex, it makes things like this very enjoyable. Seeing his lovers far away look, Matthew swallows to regain his full attention.
Alfred gasps at this, feeling the already tight, wet heat around him tighten more. Matthew pulls off a little, sliding up and down Alfred's full length. Matthew swallows and hollows his cheeks, making sure never to do too much of either, until Alfred's hands, which had been fisted into the slightly scratchy bedding, suddenly comes up to grasp at Matthew's hair.
Matthew yelps around Alfred's cock as he feels a gentle tug at that damn curl, and Alfred swears violently in response, hips coming up to thrust sharply into the back of Matthew's throat. Matthew, naturally, doesn't flinch, just lets Alfred give a few thrusts into his mouth before he pulls off, smiling softly at Alfred's disappointed groan.
"I could keep going," he offers, voice a little raspy from the abuse, "but I was actually thinking of putting this," he emphasizes 'this', with a tug of Alfred's erection, "somewhere else." Alfred just stares mutely at him as his right hand reaches over to the bedside table, opening the drawer and pulling out a small tube of oil.
Matthew watches, amused, and before Alfred can open it tugs it from his hand, setting it next to them on the bed. Instead, he puts three fingers to Alfred's mouth, "suck please," he requests softly, and Alfred does, flicking his tongue across the tips and rubbing it between them, coating them as well as possible. "Thank you," Matthew says kissing Alfred's navel before sitting up. Alfred, who'd been expecting something a little different, gapes when Matthew raises himself up, letting one of his hands creep around his back until it's at his anus.
Alfred watches avidly as one finger pushes slowly in, his eyes darting from Matthew face to his disappearing finger. Not long after the first pushes in, the second follows and Matthew just sighs a little, a sound Alfred recognizes, meaning Matthew's just crooked his fingers. Absently, Alfred's hands come to Matthew's hips, coaxing them forward a little more. Matthew moans at the slight change of angle, and Alfred smirks.
The two fingers work for a while, until Matthew pauses, pulling them out and adding the third. He winces a bit at that, and Alfred strokes his hip joints, making soft soothing noises. After a moment Matthew moves again, grinding down while spreading his fingers. He continues for a little while, until he brushes the magic little spot which makes him gasp.
With a willpower Alfred not only admires but appreciates, Matthew pulls his fingers out. Alfred quickly grabs the oil, uncorking it and pouring some in his hand. He quickly laves his erection in it, groaning at the contact he's been craving. Matthew watches him for a moment before stopping his hand. As Matthew positions himself, Alfred wipes off his hand on the bedding, returning the other to Matthew's hip.
Matthew takes a deep breath before pushing his hips down. Alfred's hands, now both on Matthew's hips, grip him firmly at the warm, soft heat which encases his cock. Matthew is still, his entire body trembling slightly, a flush going from the tips of his ears to chest. He's panting a little, and Alfred resists the urge to just push up.
"Oh lord Matthew," he breaths, "you're okay doll." Matthew nods, his eyes a little wet.
"Yeah," he agrees, and to prove it he lifts his hips a little before bringing them back down. From there on out they settle on a rhythm. It's slow at first, until Matthew's comfortable enough for Alfred to start thrusting up. It doesn't take long for Matthew to bring his chest down, deepening the angle, causing them both to groan.
Alfred, a little frustrated with the fact he hasn't managed to elicit the usual reaction out of Matthew, shifts a little. Right away Matthew moans, rocking back harder onto Alfred's cock.
"Alfred," the blond pants, and immediately the other brings one hand off Matthew's hip to wrap it around the northern country's weeping erection. The reaction is instantaneous, with Matthew crying out in both French and English, his ass muscles tightening even more.
"Good God!' Alfred moans, driving even harder into Matthew. The slighter man shudders, babbling in both his languages before he comes with a cry. Alfred groans at the continual tightening of Matthew's inner muscles.
He thrusts up, Matthew meeting him with tiny little cants, until he stops completely, chest flush with Alfred's, face tilted to the side. Sensing that Matthew is feeling a little overstimulated, Alfred gives one, two, three more deep thrusts before he feels himself come undone.
Alfred continues thrusting as his cock softens until he slips out. Matthew makes a little noise at that, but he doesn't move. Alfred shifts, so that both he and Matthew are on their sides, and presses his lips to Matthew's cheek.
"Love you," Matthew murmurs and Alfred presses another kiss to the corner of his mouth.
"Love you too doll," Alfred coos, letting sleep overtake him. He'll make this work.
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