Finally, chapter 2 is here! Sorry I took longer than expected for multiple reasons. One, I had writer's block before I even started writing this chapter and two, finding the right songs to help with my inspiration took forever! And three, I was swamped with school work. I mean really, 3 lab reports, 2 essays and then I had to work on a presentation for one of my lectures. Insane! Also, I don't want this story to be something that I HAVE to do. Otherwise it won't be fun anymore. I'm writing this to escape my busy world for awhile and when I update, I don't want it to be crap so I try to get it as perfect as possible. Anyway! Enough with excuses.

Thank you to my first reviewers of this story: tinturnabby and JulietGivesUp! Your feedback and kind words were so encouraging~ So thank you TuT


Also! Thanks to those of you who fave'd and signed up for alerts, you guys are awesome! And those of you who just read my previous chapter, thank you for reading. ^^

WARNING: language, punk!Iggy, /slight/Hippie!America, mention of RusAme, drug and alcohol use and terribly written smut (if you could even call it that)

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN THE CHARACTERS OF HETALIA!

Enjoy~!

No Future for You

August 14, 1977

Harsh guitar riffs bounced off the walls of the cramped up bathroom. The lighting was dim and the stench of smoke and chemicals were barely tolerable. Balancing his butt over the edge of the yellowing tub was the newly converted punk, swayed by the rebellion of his people.

Arthur Kirkland, the prim and proper gentleman that wore suits and sweater vests was dead.

Now, he has reincarnated into something wild and untamable; a force to be reckoned with. During this era, he would only go by the moniker "Art" or even "Artie" was tolerable (but only in America's case). With a cigarette proudly clenched in between his canines, England was massaging teal foam into his hair, washing away his blonde locks for good. He rinsed his hands and patted them dry on his torn denim as he took out the cig from his mouth to blow the smoke out and bobbed his head to the blaring music that was emitting from the small radio that was resting on the side of the sink.

His lips parted into a smirk as he sang along with the lyrics, "God save the Queen, she ain't no human being, there is no future in my dreaming~"

Of course, before he wouldn't have spoken ill of Her Highness but a country can't help themselves when the majority of their people are focused on one ideal and emotion. And defiance was running strong through his veins. After a few more songs passed from his Sex Pistols record, he washed out his hair and smiled smugly, satisfied with the turnout of his new hair color. It wasn't an exact shade of teal but mixed with the golden hue of his natural hair, the color that decorated his head was now something of a dingy green. But he loved it. He gave a few poses in the mirror, flipping the bird at his reflection and flicked out his tongue, admiring the stud that adorned said muscle.

"Finally, I'm fucking done."

He walked out of his place, his studded leather jacket hung over his shoulder and his heavy boots thudding with each step. Earlier, America had called him over for a few drinks at the nearby pub and England said that he would oblige him with his company.

'Gods know what he's doing here in the first place…probably to escape his own chaos at his place.' He thought as he lit another cigarette and took a long drag as he walked through the littered sidewalks of London.

Respectable citizens and punks alike couldn't help but not notice the appearance of their rugged nation. The citizens would turn their heads away in disgust and scurry away, in fear that his rebellion was contagious and his fellow punks were in awe of his style and the unique color of his hair. Another smirk graced his features as he entered the pub and it soon turned into a smirk when the American came into sight.

Just by looking at the two, you would judge that they wouldn't get along because one was a hardcore punk and the other was dressed like a flower-loving hippie. Ok, well not so much flower loving but you could tell that he was leaning toward that Hippie movement back in his place. Even then, England felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of just his back. He was able to see the man's muscles from underneath his loose fitting shirt and it stirred something in him. England shook his thoughts away and walked over to America, smacking his hand on his back.

"Oi, what makes you think you can purify my place with all your flower and rainbow talk, mate?"

The American turned suddenly and smirked, punching England in the arm. His hair was slightly longer than what he usually wore, making it easier for other nations to confuse him for Canada (which he thought was strange), but other than his dress, his demeanor was still the same. He was still the same obnoxious, loud and hero-complexed idiot that Arthur was in love with. Not that he would admit it.

"Shut the fuck up with your tough talk, Artie~ you know I'm not into that lovey dovey shit, not when all my focus is on that communist bastard, Russia."

England felt his eye twitch. "Why do you have to mention him in EVERY conversation we have, Alfred? It almost sounds like you two are secretly fucking each other."

England noticed a small blush stain America's face but he couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or anger that he would bring up such a preposterous idea. He hoped it was the second one.

"As if," America dismissed defensively. "I'm just stressed out all the time so sorry if I snap at you."

The punk nodded and waved his hand, calling over the bartender and ordering two shots of whiskey. He pushed the glass over to America.

"Fine then, something to take the edge off…" he swigged his own shot.

America chuckled and drank the shot. "Dude, my edge was taken off like an hour ago~"

"What do you-? Alfred! You mean to tell me that you're bloody knackered? Again?"

The American only confirmed this when he gave England a look, and he could see the glossiness and red of his eyes, not to mention the dopey smile on his face that gave it away. England wasn't a hypocrite. He could admit to smoking out whenever he needed to escape and he could also admit to enjoy the feeling that came with the high. But what he didn't like was when America abused the same pleasure. All of his features were relaxed and his mind was never quite there whenever he would smoke his "herbal supplements."

America giggled, "Hey man, I still have some on me, want to share~?"

England shook his head; the last thing he wanted to do was get high with his former charge.

"No, keep that shit to yourself."

The taller male pouted and drank another shot of whiskey as England dropped his stub of a cigarette and stepped on it.

"So, why did you call me here?"

"Can't a guy just call over his buddy for a few drinks and not get questioned about it?"

England raised an eyebrow. America sighed.

"Ok fine. I was just sick of home and all the shit that was going on over there so I ran to the first place I could think of. So…here I am."

Emerald eyes widened slightly. 'The first place he thought of? Me?'

"Well…I can understand why you would want to leave but it's not all that great here either—"

"Hey, are you wearing EYELINER?" America changed the subject as he got dangerously close to England's face to examine it. Feeling daring, England didn't move away or push America out of his face. He wasn't his old wimpy and "gentleman" self anymore. A predatory smile crawled over his lips.

'So what if I am?" he purred, letting the ball on his tongue flash behind his teeth as he spoke.

Now it was America's turn to be surprised. If only for a second in his hazy train of thought, he imagined what that little ball of metal would feel like against his skin.

He smiled, "It looks fuckin' sexy." He said pulling away with a tempting smile.

England playfully gave a scoff. "You are knackered and are clueless of what you're saying."

America shrugged; "Maybe, maybe not~ I'll never tell!" he let out another string of giggles as he drank another shot of whiskey.

At this point, both nations were getting tipsy after having more than a few drinks in their system. Over the course of two hours, their conversation was mixed with important national affairs and then back to their weird style of flirting with each other that neither was aware of.

"Want to go back to my place? I'll let you light up one of your fags since I can see you're coming back to your senses."

America nodded as he stumbled off the stool with a drunken smile and checked his pocket to see that his "stuff" was still in there.

"Sure thing, bro. Just lead the way~"

The sky was dark and foggy as it always was when the two countries were making their way back to England's apartment that he kept during this decade. He locked away all his prim and proper possessions in his house that was near the countryside. The nippy air made America shiver slightly and he kept up his pace closer to England.

In England's equally foggy mind, all that was going through his head were dirty thoughts that involved him, America and his old, creaky mattress.

"Sorry if it isn't much, my place isn't meant for keeping up appearances..." England said, his mind still elsewhere as he led America up the stairs in the apartment building. He just shrugged.

" 'S' not like I'm anyone fancy or important that you gotta impress me or anything like that. Ya did raise me you know~"

England shuddered as he opened the door. Getting reminded of America as a child while he was having sexual fantasies was not something that was helping his boner.

"I'm starting to feel a bit more sober…I'm getting more whiskey. You want any?" He changed the subject as he walked over to his liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey.

"More whiskey? Nah, I'm gonna smoke~" With experienced fingers, he rolled himself a joint and put it in between his teeth, patting his pockets as he looked for his lighter.

"Hey, do you have a light?"

England fished through his front pocket and pulled out his Union Jack lighter, turning on the flame hovering in front of America's face.

"There you go~" he smirked as he took a swig straight from the bottle.

America smiled and took a drag from his joint, exhaling the smoke through his nostrils. It didn't take so long for England to lose his sense back in his drink and America to his "herbal supplements".

"Hey, 'Merica~…*hic* my pants are feeling awfully tight~" America's thin eyebrows rose slightly.

"Oh yeah? You should fix that yourself~" he gave a shit-eating grin with his eyelids at half-mast.

"No…I have a better idea~" England sauntered over to America, whiskey bottle still in hand as he separated his lips from the rim.

"Come here love and let me show you a good time~" he slurred as he stood in front of the taller man now, showering them with the remaining whiskey and pushed him down to the bed. He settled in between his legs and smirked as he leaned over and licked a drop that trailed down America's neck. His tongue ring tracing the pulsating vein that he could feel quickening.

"Mmm~ I think I could get drunk off you instead of the whiskey, poppet~"

America shivered in pleasure as he felt England's hot tufts of breath pass his ear as he said those words. He was right about the tongue ring, it felt fucking amazing on him.

"Then why don't you, babe? I haven't had a good bang in a while…" he groaned as England pressed his knee against his clothed bulge.

"…and judging by that tent in your tight ass jeans, I guess you haven't either~" he purred as he flicked England's earlobe with his tongue and moaned aloud as the punk's groin brushed against his.

"It's taking all the strength in me to not just fuck you into the mattress right this second Alfred, so do shut up and let me enjoy this~"

England moved until the length of his body was pressed against America's. Bracing himself on his arm, he leaned over and pressed his lips roughly against America's and was pleased when he felt America's lips began to move under his own. He pulled back slightly only to find himself looking into the direct gaze of blue eyes hazed with lust and his high. He watched as America's lips curled up into a smile and found himself smiling back before lowering his head again and taking America's lips with his own. As the exchange of saliva continued, the throbbing in England's jeans was becoming more unbearable as the seconds passed.

"Pants…off, now." England grunted and soon felt clumsy fingers clawing at his zipper. Once his jeans were halfway down his thighs, he stopped America's hands from pulling them down any lower.

"I meant yours, love~" He smirked and pecked America's lips with another chaste kiss.

"Oh…yeah, right." America worked off his own pants, his erection standing proud in between their bodies. He had decided to skip wearing underwear that day. He thought it made him feel more free. England kept his smirk as he tore off America's shirt and spread his palms over his muscular chest, his fingertips brushing lightly against his erect nubs. America squirmed slightly, the drugs in his system made his skin ten times more sensitive, which in turn made the sensations ten times more enjoyable. Running his hand lightly down America's bare side, England took possession of America's lips yet again, running his tongue lightly over them, encouraging America to open to him. With a sigh, England's tongue slipped between America's lips, exploring the warmth of his mouth, caressing America's tongue with his own. Finally, with a groan, he forced himself to pull back.

"I'm going to fuck you hard into this mattress. Is that understood~?" he asked as he leaned over to the nightstand to take out some lubricant and a condom. America propped himself on his elbows.

"Why are you getting a condom? I promise I'm clean~"

"You want me to come inside you? And how do I even know you're telling the truth when you're fucking Russia?" he accused again. America rolled his eyes, too high to be offended.

"We've only done it like…3 times. Maybe 4, I don't remember. Plus, I made him use a condom each time. I didn't want any of his communist jizz in my ass." England growled as he was deciding against using the condom now that he knew. America giggled.

"Oh, Artie~ it's not like I'm in love with him or anything. It was just hate sex. You're much sexier than he is~" He said seductively and ran his tongue up England's neck, letting a moan trail out of his mouth. It was more than enough to make England forget about a certain scarf-wearing country.

"Fine, we'll skip the condom. We can show any other idiots just who you really belong to, eh?"

England slowly reached out his hand and wrapped his fingers around America's erection, when he started to slowly move his hand up and down America let out a deep groan.

"Oh God…this feels ten times better than normal! England!" he moaned, his voice throaty.

Pulling his hand away from him, England tossed the lube onto the other side of the bed and climbed onto the bed, putting himself in between America's legs. Squirting a generous amount on his palm, he slathered his erection with the lube and coated his index finger with the excess, reaching down and smearing it around America's pucker before sliding it slowly inside. He stopped when he heard America gasp and looked up to find his eyes closed shut.

"You alright, love?"

"Yeah, feels good," America whispered before realizing England had stopped. "Why'd you stop?"

"No reason", England chuckled before moving and twisting his finger in an attempt to loosen America up. When he thought that his muscles were loose enough, he added a second finger and then a third.

"Ugh..stop it…just put your dick in already…I need it~" America growled.

Pulling his fingers out, England moved into position and lubed his cock once more before placing the head at America's entrance. He leaned slightly over America and lowered his head to capture his lips as the head of his cock pushed against the tight ring. When the head slipped inside, America moaned against England's lips and it took everything in England not to thrust as deep as he could. He felt America push against him and slid in deeper. The feel of America surrounding him was almost enough to push England over the edge and he forced himself to stop until the feeling passed. Once he had himself under control, England slid in deeper. With America's urging, he was soon buried in his ass and stopped to give America a minute to get used to him. When he felt America push back against him, he started to move in slow thrusts, pulling out slightly before thrusting back in.

Pulling back, England watched America's face and could tell each time he hit his prostate. Knowing he wouldn't last much longer, England sped his thrusts up and reached between them with his hand to grasp America's throbbing member, timing his strokes to match his thrusts. Within moments, America arched up off the bed and began shooting his seed. The first couple of shots landed on his belly and the sight of it tipped England over the edge. With a last few deep thrusts, England cried out as he emptied his balls into America. He tried to keep himself inside America's body, but he gradually softened and slipped out. With shaky arms, he collapsed to America's side to catch his breath, a satisfied smile on his face. America sighed in his high daze and wrapped an arm around England's waist, snuggling into his neck.

"Waaaaay better than Ivan~" he said with a giggle. England sighed and pulled America's arm off him. He sat up from the bed and slipped his jeans back on. Noticing that something was off, America sat up as well.

"Artie….what's wrong? You didn't get to finish? 'Cause it sure feels like you did…it didn't feel good or what?" England sighed again.

That wasn't the case. How dare America question his experience with him, of course he enjoyed himself ! He just finished making love to the one person that he held dear and in reality this was just supposed to be a drunk fuck. He fucked America. Not only that, but he fucked up his chances with him as well. He knew that they couldn't be involved in any kind of relationship right now, even if it was just casual sex buddies. His heart just wouldn't be able to take it; not that he would admit it.

"It's not that…you…you just….you have to leave, Alfred."

What? America redressed himself in a clumsy and drunken rage.

"WHAT? You think you can just get me drunk, get me high and then fuck me like there's no tomorrow and then tell me to leave? What the FUCK, Arthur!"

"You got high on your own accord!" He tried defending himself. He loved America. He will always love America. No matter where they would be in life, he knew that his love was sworn to the younger nation so long ago. He had his hooks in him so deep, and he didn't want to leave. He loved him. He loved him. England loved America.

I have to tell him..I love him. I love him. I love him. I love him. I fucking love him. He took a breath.

"I love fucking you!"

Wait, what?

England couldn't remember a time when he couldn't read what was on America's face. Perhaps this was the first time. He didn't know, nor did he care. He just messed up. A slip of the tongue thanks to the alcohol.

"Fuck! No, what I meant to say was—"

"Save it, England. I know what this was."

His emerald eyes widened. "You…you do?"

America nodded. "We just had a one night stand. I get it. No strings attached sex. A clean break."

England tried to oppose, tell him that it wasn't true and what he meant to say was that he "fucking loved him" but he held his tongue.

It's not the right time…let it go.

There was an awkward silence for a long while until America sighed.

"Well, it was a good fuck. Thanks for the fun, England." He flashed him a peace sign and showed himself out the door. England stood in the middle of his apartment baffled and hurt.

There's still time…I can save this…I can fix this…

"…I need some air." He walked out and slammed the door shut, the only thing lighting his way into the dark alleys was the small glowing end of his cigarette.

.

.

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A/N: I'm sorry if this was so wordy! Gosh, I didn't think it would be this long but after I started writing during my 3 hour break between classes, I couldn't stop. ; So, how did you guys like it? Good? Horrible? The songs that I listened to while writing this was 'God Save the Queen' by the Sex Pistols and 'Porn Star Dancing' by My Darkest Days. That latter song I used while writing the "smut" scene. As I said before, this chapter took longer not only because I was busy but I didn't have much inspiration in the beginning. And my inspiration comes in songs. So, if anyone has a song that they like and it's just "totally fit for USUK" tell me so I can take a listen! You never know, I might use it in later chapters~ haha

For the next chapter, I will be going back, way back in time. I already have my song for the next chapter: "It Will Rain" by Bruno Mars. I just can't stop listening to it because the scene of chapter 3 just keeps playing in my head. So I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if not well thanks for reading anyway!

-K.G.