I should probably put a NSFW warning at the beginning of this. Because while they don't actually have sex, England is a nasty bugger when it comes to sexting.
On a related note... England sexting, amirite?
On an unrelated note... Oh god, I hate being busy... and not in the "oh I have so much I want to do and there's not possibly enough hours in the day to do it" way, more the "Oh I have so much I want to do but I have to do this other shit instead" way. I'm the latter, in case there was any confusion. I wrote this with my free moment today, so yeah... I just had an intense need for sexting. What can ya do?
I hope this is readable! Sorry if it's not, writing texting is hard.
Enjoy! ;)
"Oh fuck..."
Now, France knew that tone. He knew that tone all too well. And so, when he heard that tone coming from where Scotland was waiting in his living room as he was preparing coffee, he couldn't help the wide smirk that played on his lips.
Breathy and stifled and just a pinch hoarse. Oh yes, Scotland had just encountered something particularly exciting , and France, being the good friend (and shameless gossip) he was, was going to see exactly what it was.
When he returned to the living room, two cups of (slightly rushed) coffee in hand, Scotland was staring at his phone rather intently, a deep blush having risen on his cheeks that rivalled his hair for brightness. His free hand was over his mouth, and his eyes were wide. Oh, he's flustered, this is going to be good.
Scotland frowned, letting go of his mouth to reveal a chewed lip as he typed something into his phone.
"Sexting this early in the morning?" France chuckled, making Scotland jump practically ten feet into the air. France shook his head amusedly, "Tut, tut, and while you have guests too."
"Shut up, France," Scotland grumbled, his shoulders coming up to his ears in defensive embarrassment, "It's not me, it's him."
France's grin turned wicked, "England is sexting you?"
Scotland seemed to realize he'd said something wrong then because he backpedalled quickly, "No! I mean- I shouldn't- he- I- We haven't been able to see each other for a while."
France handed him the coffee and sat beside him, throwing his legs over Scotland's so he couldn't try to run away from the situation. "It's fine," he said airily, "All is forgiven if you show me."
"Wha- No!"
France rolled his eyes, "No one is better at sexting than me, I can promise you, if you give me the reigns we can have him hopping here within minutes."
"But you're still-"
France waved his hand dismissively, "My dear, your sex life is more important."
Before Scotland could even protest again, France had plucked the phone out of his hands, rolled over, pinned Scotland firmly to the sofa with his legs, and held it out of his reach so he could read their conversation.
To: Me
From: Fuck the English
This meeting is boring.
To: Fuck the English
From: Me
You say that every time.
To: Me
From: Fuck the English
The only thing keeping me sane is the thought of your cock in my mouth.
France grinned, ah, here we are. It seemed England didn't wait around and drop hints when sexting, which was something France could certainly work with.
Ignoring Scotland's fruitless grabs for the phone, France continued reading.
To: Me
From: Fuck the English
Do you think parliament would notice if I sucked you off during a session?
To: Me
From: Fuck the English
I can already see you biting your hand, trying to keep from calling my name out for everyone to hear. Mm, but I'd want you to call out because your voice is almost as delicious as your cock.
To: Fuck the English
From: Me
England, I have company.
To: Me
From: Fuck the English
So do I. But I'm still thinking about how deep I'd take you. You must remember how inactive my gag reflex has gotten.
To: Me
From: Fuck the English
I'm thinking about how I'd lick your dick like a lolly. But it would be better because I'd get to see your face go red and your breath get sharp, and I'd get to taste your cum as it shoots down my throat.
France grinned wider, he always knew England was a nasty old pervert, but this was all the proof he needed. Haha! No longer could he claim France was a perverted frog, because he was just as bad!
Either way, it seemed England was waiting for a reply, and now it was France's time to shine.
To: Fuck the English
From: Me
England, I hope you know my company is France. And that being horny around him is a bad idea.
Now, France would never dream of trying something with a taken man, that was disgusting and unforgivable, but England never tended to think that highly of him, so if that didn't get England over here then he didn't know what would.
To: Me
From: Fuck the English
I'm sure you'll be able to control yourself. Besides, if I can keep myself from wanking myself off in the middle of this meeting then you can keep France off your dick.
To: Me
From: Fuck the English
Although if you wanted to wank yourself off, I wouldn't be opposed.
To: Me
From: Fuck the English
Just send pictures. I want to horrify the bastards behind me.
Okay, the direct approach it is.
To: Fuck the English
From: Me
Do you want me to fuck your mouth or not?
To: Me
From: Fuck the English
Are you implying that I waste precious energy hopping all the way to Scotland just to give you a BJ?
To: Fuck the English
From: me
Yes. Limited time offer.
To: Me
From: Fuck the English
Give me a moment.
"France!" Scotland growled, "What are you sending him?"
France just smiled back at him innocently, "Oh, nothing too terrible," He chuckled, "But I feel like he might just be considering his options."
"Fra-"
"Just you wait and see," France interrupted quickly, turning back away from him to continue looking through his phone, "You shouldn't have to wait long."
Scotland slumped back against the chair dejectedly, the only protest he offered was an almost inaudible grumble of "'S the last fuckin' time I'm inviting you over."
It took a few minutes, but eventually there was a loud crack, the tell-tale sign of a nation-hop, signalling the arrival of England with a yell of, "France get the fuck out of here!"
France smirked, tossing the phone back to the gaping Scotland, and climbing gracefully off of him. He chanced a final glance back at Scotland, whose look of awe had turned into something wide and predatory, making France wink at him with a smirk before turning back around. He flitted into the hall where England stood with a red tint to his cheeks and messier hair than usual. He blew the Englishman a kiss as he wandered past, "Have fun, chouchou."
England glared at him until he was out of the door, at which point France decided it probably wouldn't hurt matters to see how they were doing...
Side Note: Should I up the rating for this story? I feel like some of these chapters get pretty racy, especially this one.