America peered across the hallway and stared at his love. He smiled dreamily, then looked away, holding a knife in his hand.
Soviet started up his car, then realized something on the screen when it showed up saying his tires were all flat. "Blyat." he muttered and hopped out of his car and looked at the tires. All of them had been slashed, every single one of his tires. His bad mood was starting to get worse and he slowly picked up his phone.
Soviet slowly made himself a sandwich and then put it in a bag. He then grabbed his coffee cup, filled it with coffee, then grabbed his camera and walked out the door.
America took off his shirt and opened the window, letting the summer breeze come into his room. He looked over his front yard as the sun went down. It was getting dark. He sighed and looked over to the tree in his neighbors yard. He thought he saw something move in it, but maybe it was just the wind. He walked back into his room and looked in the mirror as he slowly took off his belt. Before he took his pants off, he glanced out the window again, hoping no one was looking, then slowly drifted his fingers over his abs, a small smile setting on his lips with pride. He then slipped off his pants. He walked into his bathroom and slipped into the shower.
As America dried his hair off, his eyes wandered back over to the window. His eyes narrowed. He tightened his towel around his waist and walked over to the window again, looking over his neighborhood again. He sighed when he saw nothing but the night taking over the town. America then went back to drying off his hair, and dressing into his sleep wear, which mostly includes underwear and pants.
Soviet sighed as he walked home. His face was redder than it was before he left. He walked into his house and looked over his camera roll. He grinned again, then walked downstairs, not shivering by the sudden drop of temperature. He printed the pictures, then set them on his desk. A crooked smile grew on his face, and his face went maroon. He started to write the date and time in red ink. He then walked back upstairs and started to get ready for bed.
Before America goes to bed every night, he checks his radio and if he hears nothing he checks his phone for any new texts. There were a few from his brother, but that didn't matter. He checked his love's contact and looked for a text. It was a casual text. Nothing that signaled any sort of feelings toward him. But deep down America knew that his love loved him just as much he loved them back. Which was more than a normal amount of love towards two partners.
After the meeting, Soviet quickly stood up and walked over to a certain desk and looked around, not caring if anyone was watching him. He found a pencil in this very important seat. He grinned when he found it, then looked around for anything else. Nothing much, but anything would be fine. He stuffed the pencil and the other small things into his pocket. He already knew that China was walking towards him and was going to talk to him about something "important" that he might need to know. But as far he's concerned, he knows more than that man does. He knows everything about their "rival". Everything. And he made sure he did because he couldn't afford to disappoint them in any way.
He started to quickly walk towards the exit of the room, but a firm hand grabbed his wrist and swung him around. Soviet looked down at China who was glaring at him. "You've been avoiding me, what's the matter with you?"
"There are many other important things i have to do, China, you must understand that." Soviet informed his ally.
"We are allies, USSR, we have to at least talk to each other." China looked around, frowning. "Did you find anything else on the USA? I'm not getting very positive feedback."
Soviet narrowed his eyes. He knew a lot, but not things that would be helpful in China's situation. Soviet was also in the situation, but he couldn't care less. "No." he lied.
China cursed. "Alright, update me if you find anything else. I think he's onto us."
"I will." Soviet lied again.
He watched his ally walk out of the room, and glared after him. China seemed to be a problem. He didn't want the answers Soviet had, and wanted the answers Soviet didn't care about.
America watched his love walk out of the room. He was standing outside and was watching from the inside of his car, looking through the building's window. He knew where his love would go, and he knew how long it would take for them to get home. Exactly 58 minutes. America had lots of time to investigate. He started to drive down the city's road, and entered into a shady looking neighborhood. This neighborhood was not far from his.
Soviet sighed and sat down in his bed, it had been a long day. He looked out the window and saw the moon. It was really late, but he could finally stay up longer and find out more about his "rival" because tomorrow would be Sunday, and there were no meetings or any sort of get-together on that day. He started to change into a different outfit, and then grabbed a key and left his house.
America held a journal in his hand, and skimmed through it, grinning and giggling like a little girl. He was slightly shaking with excitement, and then pressed the pillow in between his legs a little more aggressively into his member. He let out a little satisfied moan, then closed the journal and held it up against his chest. He crossed his legs and smushed the pillow up more, and he already knew what was happening. He threw the journal across the room and started to f*ck the hell out of the pillow, and all the while giggling maniacally.
Soviet walked up the stairs. He had walked up them many times, and he skipped all the steps that creaked. He entered a room and stared at the bed. He could hear them sleeping. He felt a tug in his pants when he realized they were only wearing a shirt. He started to walk over to the bed, when he stopped and remembered what he had been here for.
But a peak couldn't hurt anyone, right?
Soviet quietly looked across the sleeping person and quickly put a hand over his mouth to stop a delighted squeak. He slowly reached over, he didn't even stop himself. He petted the sleeping man's member and watched it harden. Soviet couldn't stop himself now, he let his gloved hands wrap around it and give it a small squeeze. They started to move a bit in their sleep, which made Soviet glance at their face. He couldn't believe the beauty he saw. He slowly let go and traced his thumbs around the sleeping's man's face; sliding his thumb around his eyes, under and over his lips, his jawline, etc. It was too much, and it was satisfying Soviet too much. He had to stop.
But he couldn't.
He was trapped. He was so hard at the moment, and so needful for… it he knew he couldn't leave now. He should have never looked. He should have never touched it.
Soviet started to hyperventilate as he watched the man twitch a bit, looking like he was about to wake up. Soviet quickly walked backward and hid into the closet.
They woke up and looked around, looking confused. Soviet held his breath and looked around in the closet. His eyes widened when he saw a sex doll. He could feel his temperature rise, and started to heat up. He looked back at his "rival" and watched them slowly stand up.
"Hello?" they whispered.
Soviet held his breath. He couldn't be caught.
They started to look around the room, going through cupboards and other small drawers. They grabbed something small and turned whatever the heck it was on. There was a static sound and he obviously didn't like it. He turned it off and then walked over to the lights and turned them on.
Soviet's eyes widened, not only with fear, but because now he could see his "rivals" member much more clearly. He looked around the closet knowing that he could easily be seen if they just opened the door.
America grumbled and looked at the time, it was 1 in the morning. He didn't know what woke him up, but he swore he felt like someone was watching and touching him. He tried to repeat the feeling back to himself, but it still didn't seem to be exactly what he felt. He frowned and looked around his room. His closet was closed, when he swore he left it cracked open, and his room's door was open when he also left it cracked open as well. His eyes narrowed.
America walked over to the closet and opened it. A few things looked moved, but no one seemed to be in there. He closed the closet and left his room.
Soviet slowly slipped off the closet shelf and quietly started to sneak out of the room, watching America carefully. But then he realized where his foot was going, and flinched when the floorboard creaked. America swiftly turned around and spotted Soviet with wide eyes.
"SOVIET!" America gasped, technically tripping on the last staircase.
Soviet gasped as well and jumped back into the stairs, landing hard on his tailbone.
"W-what are you doing in my house?!" America choked out, his face was heating up, but Soviet couldn't see it because it was so dark.
"I-i…" Soviet stuttered. How was he going to get out of this? Soviet glanced down from America's eyes, his eyes accidentally slipping.
America's face went bright red, but he quickly spoke up again. "Soviet Union, what in Man Upstairs name are you doing in my own house at 1?"
Soviet couldn't come up with an excuse. "I came to see you." he blurted out.
America pulled his shirt down a little more, nervous that Soviet was looking. "Why? How did you get in?"
"The key… your house key. I took it from you a while back." Soviet muttered, deciding to confess it.
"So you're the one who took it?" America muttered.
Soviet bit his lip. "I can't help it."
America shuffled a bit, then took a step closer to Soviet. "Are you saying you can't stay away from me? Should I think that in a positive or non-positive way?"
"Either one… it'll make sense either way." Soviet whispered, ashamed by a little bit.
He expected America to call 911, or kick him out or something along those lines, but America only chuckled. He used that cute little chuckle that made his face go red. "Heh, so you're saying you can't stay away from me?" he giggled again. "Oh my goodness… i'd always…" he stopped for a moment, his laughing stopping. "...hope you have noticed me. Heh. and I thought I was the only one obsessed…"
Soviet's eyes widened. "W-what?...Wait, are you saying like me?"
America was now standing right infront of Soviet, he grabbed his cheeks and made Soviet look up at him. "I guess we know all about each other, every secret, but we just didn't know we both were obsessed with each other." America whispered, his voice soft.
Soviet grinned and grabbed America's hips. "So you wouldn't mind…?"
"Never." America said softly into his love's ear. "Because I love you." He suddenly felt himself being picked up, which must have been pretty difficult because he and Soviet were about the same size.
Soviet led them into America's bedroom, and started to undress himself. America taking off his own shirt, and saying sweet little things to his love. Once Soviet was undressed; he laid down on the bed and reached out for America. America fell onto the bed and pinned Soviet's hands on both sides of him. He let his stomach rest on top of Soviet's, and then let go of Soviet's wrists and grabbed his cheeks and started to kiss his love.
They both kept kissing, and squirming until they found a good position. Soviet's legs wrapped around America's hips, which brought more pressure on him, but America didn't mind, rather finding this pleasing. America bit Soviet's neck and then kissed the small hickey bite mark. Then they connected again and let themselves explore each other some more. America slid his hand around Soviet's jawline, and slowly rubbed his scalp.
Soviet woke up drowsily, he could hear a phone going off. He first expected it to be his, so he reached over, but then he realized the room he was sleeping in didn't look like this. He sprung up in confusion, then he spotted someone sleeping beside him. He blinked in amazement and shock. Then memories of last night suddenly poured into his brain. He grinned and laid back down, not caring about the phone anymore, and wrapped his arms around his new love and brought America closer to his chest.
He felt tired, and a little numb in his butt, but he couldn't care any less. He was with his "rival", and his "rival" loved him just as much as he loved them.
They snuggled a little closer, America turning around so their chests were touching. He laid on his back, and Soviet just laid on top of his chest.
Both were content.
It was Monday, and around 7 in the morning, which was also around the time the meeting was going to start. Britain was trying to get everyone settled down.
A few countries had noticed Soviet and America's strange new behavior. They seemed less tense, and just a lot content. "Maybe they talked about what was going on between their countries." Belgium suggested to Germany, France, Italy, and Spain.
"Probably, but I don't really think so." France narrowed her eyes on the two. "It seems like a different kind of… I don't even know how to put it."
"Hmm." Spain shrugged. "The meetings going to start anyways, and it could just be a coincidence that they both got enough sleep for once."
Italy and Germany glanced at each other, both trying not to laugh at their shared thought. Germany just held in his laugh, shook his head slightly and looked down at the table. Italy had to rest his head on the table and keep a hand over his mouth.