Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Warnings: This is my very first attempt at writing...well, this sort of thing. You know, sex. So...forgive my inexperience. I'll get better with practice, I promise.

For sakerat, in thanks for all your support and insight.

It's late -so late it's early- and America is standing in front of his house in England, carrying a heavily intoxicated South Italy in his arms while he tries to find his keys.

They're in England because England is hosting the latest round of meetings, and South Italy is intoxicated because several of the nations had decided to go out for drinks after today's meeting had adjourned. America's there because England and France had dragged him out to the bar ("It's pub." England's voice says in his head, "Learn to speak English."). Spain and Prussia had arrived a few minutes later, and along with France proceeded to put on a show that would not soon be forgotten by anyone there.

After a few hours of raising hell, the trio decided to quit the bar for greener, less traumatized pastures. By that time England, unsurprisingly, was utterly pissed, sprawled half on the bar and half across several stools, head pillowed on a bottle and clinging to his pint glass as if it was best friend, muttering something about frogs and green bunnies.

America, having been nursing the same beer all night, was prepared to go back to his place and crash when he'd noticed South Italy sitting alone at a table in the corner, head pillowed in his arms and quite obviously extremely trashed. The half-nation had arrived with Spain (read: dragged along kicking and screaming), but he'd disappeared pretty quickly, so America'd assumed he'd left. It looked like Romano had just found a way to give the trio the slip and hidden out in the corner. He was a little surprised, really. It was unusual that either France or Spain let either of the Italys out of their grasp once they had one. They acted like the Italy brothers were God's gift to sex, or something.

Still, it wasn't safe for the half-nation to stay here all by himself, especially in his current state. Though fiery, he wasn't very strong, and could easily get into trouble around here if he was alone and incapacitated.

Well, lucky for him the Hero was on the job. America would be sure to get him home safe and sound. He'd approached the other's table, prodding his shoulder to wake him up.

"Hey. Hey, Romano Italy, where are you staying? We should get you back. It's pretty late."

"'M fine, bastard, lemme alone." He'd slurred, barely stirring.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Romano."

"I said I'm fine, dammit."

America looked around and sighed. Obviously this was going nowhere. Well, the half-nation could always crash at his place (he'd kept a small house in England for decades, for when he was visiting or attending meetings). "Okay, you're fine." he'd humoured, leaning down to pull Romano's arm over his shoulder, hoisting the smaller nation to his feet. "You're very fine. In fact, you're so fine, I'm taking you home with me, okay?" He could give up his bed for tonight, it's not like he hadn't done it before. The couch was comfortable enough, anyway.

Romano blinked muzzily and nodded. "Yeah, sure. Whatever, bastard."

He'd managed to guide the intoxicated Italian out of the tavern and halfway down the street before deciding that it was going to take forever trying to walk this way, and scooped the smaller nation up, carrying him instead. Romano'd instinctively wrapped his arms around his neck, resting his head on the taller nation's shoulder, his breath hot and alchohol-scented on America's neck.

Shifting the half-nation into a more comfortable position, America looked around, getting his bearings. The nice thing about England's hosting the meetings was that it was a lot easier to find your way around when all the signs are written in English. He was in luck- his place wasn't that far from here.

15 minutes later, and here he was, on his doorstep fumbling for his keys and trying not to wake the half-nation in his arms. Not actually an unusual experience when he was in England, really; between England and France he'd been in a similar situation almost countless times. Thanks to that, he manages to get the door open fairly quickly, without disturbing his latest impromptu guest.

As he made his way up the stairs to the bedroom, Romano stirred, lifting his head and blinking sleepily. "Hey, bastard, where are we?" he asked.

"My place." America answered readily."Hold tight, gonna get you to bed in a sec, 'kay?"

"Oh, right." The half nation stretched his limbs and yawned, tongue curling like a cat's. America grinned- that was kind of cute. He pushed open the door to the bedroom, and set Romano down, standing him next to the dresser.

"Wait there, I'll have it ready in a sec." he instructed, and went to the closet for extra blankets and pillows. He grabbed a few extra pillows, considering. The bed already had a couple, but maybe Romano would want to have more, just in case. France liked to have at least 6, he knew. He wasn't sure about Spain, but the nation liked to sleep alot, so maybe? Hm. "Hey, Romano," he started, turning around to ask. The half-nation was standing at the foot of the bed, unbuckling his slacks.

Romano looked over at the blond and frowned irritably. "What are you still doing dressed, dammit?" he asked, kicking his socks off.

"What?" America was taken aback. He looked down at himself, confused."Why wouldn't I be?"

"It'll be kind of hard to do this if you're not naked, bastard."

"...What?"

Romano looked at him like he was being intentionally obtuse. "Sex, idiot. That's why I'm here, right? Hurry up, dammit, I don't have all night." Tired of waiting for the blond to do it himself, he reached out and yanked the other nation over by his tie, holding it like a leash while he rapidly undid the buttons of America's dress shirt with his free hand. America was impressed.

"That was pretty cool! How'd you do that so fast?"

"You never stop talking, do you?" The Italian grumbled, unbuckling the taller nation's belt and flicking open his zipper in one smooth movement. America's eyes widened as he realized his situation.

"Wait, hang on, thi-" His protests were cut off, his breath stolen by Romano's mouth and hands on his torso.

"If you think" Romano started, pushing him back onto the bed and straddling him,"that you are going to be on top, bastard, think again."

"Uh."America answered, finding it very hard to think at all with the way Romano was touching him, "N-no, I..."

"Shut up." the half-nation ordered, nipping at his collarbone, fingertips exploring the nation's torso.

"B-but-" America moaned, head falling back, "t-this isn't-"

"Not up for discussion." he interrupted, licking a swathe up the column of America's neck, illiciting a moan."Besides, you moan like a girl anyway, bastard."

"H-hey." the blond protested, biting back another moan as the Italian's tongue found a sensitive spot below his ear.

"It wouldn't kill you to touch me, bastard." he responded, grazing his teeth against the spot. America's hands found his hips, gripping reflexively, and he sighed. He knew America was probably used to topping his lovers (and damn didn't he feel sorry for those poor bastards, whoever they were), but surely he had some idea of what he was supposed to do? Hadn't France taught him anything? No, from the looks of it he'd learned all his 'skills' from England. Wasn't that grand. At least the nation was extremely responsive. He could always teach him the rest along the way.

Sliding a hand up America's arm to cover one of the hands on his hips, he pulled it loose. "Like this." he instructed, grazing his lips over the shell of the other's ear as he guided America's hand over his body."Just...explore." he released the nation's hand, which hesitantly travelled his skin. "Mmm. Use your fingers," he illustrated, splaying one hand over America's ribcage, flowing over the outlines of each rib, the dips and swells between them. "your palms," settling his other hand over America's hipbone, pressing the heel of his palm into the abdominal muscles there with a gentle twist of the wrist, causing them to flutter and America to bite his lip with low moan, trying not to arch off the bed, "fingertips," he added, taking a soft earlobe between his teeth, and tracing patterns across the nation's taut stomach, drawing teasing circles around the other's navel, dipping inside; "your whole hand." he stroked a path down America's hip to his upper thigh, nuzzling his jawline. "Got it, bastard?"

"Nnn, think so." America nodded, already mimicking the other's actions. Romano had to hand it to him, he was a fast learner. It wasn't long before he was eagerly mapping the Italian's skin, illiciting shivers and moans of pleasure of his own. After a while, though, the half-nation pulled back, sitting on his haunches. With a whimper of dismay, America regarded him in confusion. "Something wrong?"

Romano reached down to tug on the waistband of America's slacks, and flick the hem of his open shirt. "Clothes off, idiot."

"Oh." America smiled sheepishly, shrugging off the shirt and lifting his hips to wriggle out of the pants.

"Boxers, too."

"Ah." The blond blushed, obediently sliding them off and dropping them on the floor with everything else. "All good?" The half-nation's brows rose, very glad of his decision to top. He wanted to be able to walk tomorrow, dammit.

"Tie, idiot." Romano was all he said, leaning over to slip the knot free. America laughed, laying back down and tugging on Romano's wrist.

"Okay, done, c'mon."

"Eager, aren't we, bastard?" he smirked, settling back over the blond, taking his lips in a kiss, reaching up to grab a couple of pillows. Moving his lips over the other's in a slow caress, he slid a hand under America's lower back, urging him to lift his hips, wedging the pillows underneath when the other did so. He transferred his lips to the blond's neck, tipping his chin back for better access, and reached into the bedside table drawer, searching for a familiar tube or bottle. America's fingers quested his stomach.

"I'm...unh..kind of on an...incline, here." America remarked, shivering as a warm tongue caressed heated skin.

"You're taller than I am, bastard. I need the leverage." Romano answered against his skin, sinking his teeth into the junction between neck and shoulder. In the drawer, his search was coming up blank. "Where's your lube?"

"Uh...d-mmm," America sighed, "don't have any."

Romano pulled back, looking at him incredulously. What, did he take his partners raw? Inconsiderate bastard. He felt even sorrier for the idiot's previous lovers.

America shifted uncomfortably under the half-nation's stare. "Um...can't we just use spit, or something?"

"Spit's a shit lubricant, idiot. Hurts like hell." he sighed at the other's abashed look. "Don't you have some lotion or something? Oil, anything like that."

"There's the oil I use to clean my gun." America offered hopefully. "I always keep some in my pocket, there." he indicated his discarded slacks. Romano snorted. That figured. Retrieving it, he emptied some in his palm, rubbing it through his fingers. Oh yeah, this would work nicely. He emptied the bottle into his hands, liberally applying it to both hands and slicking it over his hitherto neglected erection. America watched with wide eyes, pressing his knees tightly together. "Uh." he said, and swallowed. "Um, is that going to go where I think it is?"

Romano gave him a dry look. "That is how this works, yes."

"Uh. I don't think it'll fit." he said, worrying his lip nervously. His brows furrowed. "Wait, I thought you guys were supposed to be...um...small." he said uncertainly.

Romano looked down at himself, tossing the empty bottle aside. He shrugged. "I've always taken more after my mom's side of the family." He moved back over the other nation, leaning in for a kiss. America's lips were stiff against his, his body tense under his fingertips. He pulled back from the kiss to see America looking nervous and a little scared. He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Hey. Bastard. Relax."

"I am relaxed." America defended, pouting. "I'm totally relaxed. This isn't going to hurt, right?"

"Of course it is, idiot. Haven't you ever done this before?"

"No, duh."

Romano shook his head. Trust America to always have to be on top. Still, the nation was so obviously nervous that he couldn't help feeling a little bad for him. He sighed again, deeply. "Look." he said, running his hands down America's arms. "It's not like I'm just gonna shove it in without warning, bastard. I'll prepare you properly and everything, okay?"

The blond worried his lip again, considering. Romano reached up to cup his chin, stroking his thumb over the American's abused lower lip. "It'll be a while before we get to that point, anyway. You've enjoyed everything up 'til now, right, idiot?" America nodded, lips curling up. "I'm going to make you feel real good, bastard. You're in the best hands in the world, here." He assured smugly, moving his hand round to cup the back of the nation's neck, leaning in to brush his lips softly over the other's, slow and sweet, coaxing. Slowly, America relaxed, melting under his touch.

"Okay." he murmured against Romano's mouth."I'll trust you, Romano."

"Damn right." Romano smirked. He wasn't one of the best lovers in the world for nothing, dammit. He stroked his tongue over the other's bottom lip, letting his free hand wander over the blond's heated skin. Touch slowly turned from soothing to teasing, kiss from soft to heated, as he dipped his tongue inside, stroking the blond's tongue with his own, tangling his fingers through golden hair, and soon America was flushed and moaning underneath him. He shifted, parting the other's legs with one of his own, settling in between them. Nibbling America's lower lip, he brushed the back of his hand up the length of America's shaft, palming the head. America trembled and bucked, pressing a hand against Romano's shoulder as he tried to shift to gain the leverage to roll them both over. Not gonna happen, fucker. Quickly, Romano hooked an arm underneath the blond's left knee, shrugging the leg over his shoulder, and leaned down to bite America's neck, lathing his tongue, hot and wet, over the other's pulse point, causing the blond to moan loudly, reflexively turning his head to the side in a more submissive posture. America's hand on his shoulder slid up to cup the back of his neck, urging him on. Deciding it was time to up the ante, he pressed a slick finger to America's entrance, circling the sensitive area. America's breath caught in his throat. "Oh." he panted, eyes closing. That felt a lot better than he'd have imagined. He moved his other leg to the side, giving Romano better access.

Romano smirked victoriously against the soft skin of his neck. Damn right, bastard. He worked his way down the other's neck, curling his tongue into the dip between his collarbones. Nipping at smooth skin, he curled his other hand around America's hard shaft, squeezing firmly. America bucked a little and whimpered, and he took the opportunity to slide his finger into the other nation, distracting him with a few slow strokes to sensitive flesh that had America panting heavily, begging Romano to go faster. "Mmm, nope." he responded lazily, stilling the hand on America's cock and lowering his head to take a pebbled nipple between his teeth. His other finger moved deep inside the other, subtly searching. He ran his thumb up the side of the hard shaft, flicking his tongue across the crest of the nipple. Then he found it- that spot that made the other nation arch off the bed with a shuddering gasp. He smiled in satisfaction. Bingo. He released all hold on the blond, sitting back on his knees between the other's legs.

America blinked after him, panting slightly. What the hell was that? And where was Romano going? Wait- when had Romano managed to slip a finger in there? He'd totally missed that, somehow. "When did you-" he gasped, arching off the bed with a cry. "Holy shit." he panted, twisting his fingers into the sheet, holding on for dear life. That felt incredible.

"You like that, bastard?" Romano smirked from his position between the nation's legs.

America nodded emphatically. "Oh yeah." he panted. "Definitely good. Oh, fuck!" he shouted, arching back again.

"Mm, not yet." Romano responded, moving forward to hover over the younger nation, his other hand braced against the mattress near the American's hip for support. "Hold on tight, bastard." With that perfunctory warning, he began his assault on America's prostate gland. America writhed, swearing furiously.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckohhhhfuckyesss," he gasped, draping a leg over the Italian to pull him closer.

"Ah-ah-ah, no." Romano stopped, and America whimpered. "Leg down, bastard, or we stop."

"Fuck." America bit his lip, and took a deep breath, trembling all over. Romano started to pull out. "Nonono please, wait." Covering his eyes with an arm, he slowly released the other, knees up, both legs spread. "Okay." he breathed.

The half-nation rewarded him by resuming his assault, sending the other into a state of sustained pleasure until he came with a cry a few moments later, arching off the bed and grabbing the headboard for support. It snapped in half with a crack like a gunshot.

"Holy shit!" Romano yelped, ducking behind America's leg, heart racing. The nation in question lay panting for a few moments, before he noticed the broken half of of headboard held in his hand.

"Whoops." he said, unconcerned, and tossed it to the floor. It dropped like a rock, scoring the wood floor.

"'Whoops'?" The half-nation repeated, aghast. "That's solid oak, isn't it?" He moved up to the remaining headboard to examine it, spreading his fingers across the span. "That is four fucking inches of solid oak. That is not 'Whoops', dammit. That is 'holy fucking shit'."

"It's okay, I've never liked it anyway."America half-shrugged, glancing idly at the slab of wood on the floor and swiping a few stray locks of hair out of his face. "I only kept it 'cause England gave it to me when I moved in. Now I have an excuse to toss it out."

"It's...buh...you...it's not a matter of whether you liked it or not, idiot. You just snapped a four-inch-thick headboard of solid oak because you came."

"Heh, yeah. That was awesome." America blushed, smiling happily. "So...you think we could get back to that?" He asked hopefully.

Romano gaped at him, and looked at the broken slab under his hand. He wasn't sure whether to be terrified or incredibly turned on. As it turned out, he was a little of both. His eyes narrowed, considering. "Alright, bastard." he said, running his hand contemplatively over the break. "But, new rule- no touching me."

America pouted. "That's no fair. Touching you is one of the best parts."

Romano blushed, but stood firm. "You want to touch me; I want to live. I win, bastard."

The blond crossed his arms, sulking. "I wouldn't hurt you."

"Tell that to the headboard, dammit."

"That was an accident." America protested. "Besides, it's only wood."

"Yeah, well I don't want to be your next 'accident', dammit." Romano argued back."And if you haven't noticed, bastard, I'm a lot softer than wood."

"Heheh, yeah." America grinned, running a hand through his hair. "That's one of the reasons I want to touch you."

Romano hit him with a pillow. "I'm serious, bastard. Either you agree not to touch me or we tie your hands."

"Alright, alright, fine. I won't touch you." America agreed, pouting. "Can we please continue, now?"

The half-nation hesitated. "Hands down, first." he ordered. America rolled his eyes, but obliged, dropping his arms to his sides. Romano shook his head. "Nope, spread 'em. I want to be able to see 'em at all times, bastard."

America spread his arms out to the sides, fingers splayed across the sheets. "This is kind of silly, but okay."

"I like living, jerk." he answered, warily approaching the prone nation, who chuckled.

"What's life with out a little risk?" he asked, winking.

"This is as risky as I'm willing to get, thanks, dammit." He crept around the other's legs, watching him like a cat watches an unknown creature, not sure if it's safe to get close or if it'll leap up and devour him at any moment.

Slowly, cautiously, he settled in between the other's spread legs, one hand placed carefully on one of the other's thighs, the other resting gingerly on one of America's hips, still propped up on the pillows. America watched all this, lips twitching in amusement. They stared at each other, neither moving, for several moments.

"BOO!" America yelled, sitting up.

"YIIEE!" Romano screamed, frantically scrabbling backwards, toppling off the bed.

"Holy crap, that was awesome!" America collapsed onto the bed, laughing maniacally. "'Yiiee~ 'bam!'" he gasped, between peals of laughter. "Oh, oh, ow, hahahaha!" he rolled onto his side, arms curled around his stomach.

Romano scrambled up from the floor, flushed red and furious. "You asshole!" He yelled, grabbing a pillow and trying to beat the other senseless with it. "Chigi! You gods-damned son of a bitch!"

"Ow, ow, hey, hahahahaha! Hey!" America sat up, still laughing, trying to shield himself from the assault. "C'mon, you gotta admit that was funny."

"I'll show you funny, bastard." Romano growled, tackling the taller nation to the bed. America yelped in surprise, falling back against the sheets, arms spread, laughing.

"Alright, Romano." he chuckled. "You've got me where you want me. Now what?"

"Now I teach you why you don't fuck with an Italian, bastard." Romano answered, wrapping a hand around the American's neck.

"Mm, alright." America smiled, lifting his chin."I'm totally at your mercy. Do your worst."

Taken aback, Romano stroked his thumb down the tendons in the blond's neck. Most nations in this situation would be putting up at least a token struggle, or tensing up- they couldn't help it, it was in their nature. America, though, was completely relaxed underneath him, blue eyes bright and trusting. He pressed his other hand to America's chest, feeling his heartbeat steady under his palm. He swallowed, hard. Having so much power and strength spread out underneath him, yielding to him completely, was...was...intensely arousing, actually.

America found himself mesmerized by the way the half-nation was looking at him. Heated and hungry, it was making him feel flushed and hot all over. He could feel himself hardening, his cock twitching against his stomach. He flushed further, arching up against Romano, who slid his hand 'round to cup the back of his neck, leaning down to claim his lips in a deep, hungry kiss.

Romano kissed him like he was drinking him in; like he'd wandered the desert for forty years and was finally tasting the milk and honey of the Promised Land, deep and languorous, savouring every moment. America moaned, trembling with excitement, his veins filling with a tingling fire which rapidly spread throughout his body. Could a nation be conquered with a kiss? If so, Romano was well on his way to conquering him. His fingers twisted in the sheets, itching to touch the other's skin, to feel his heat and fire beneath his fingers. Finally Romano broke the kiss, sliding down his body, dragging his tongue through the sticky mess on America's taut stomach. The blond groaned- that was the hottest thing he'd ever seen. Romano licked his lips, spreading his fingers through the pearly substance, dragging them down through it, over the nation's abdomen, to grip his inner thighs, lowering his head to swipe his tongue along the underside of America's cock, base to tip, in one long, slow lick, eyes locked with the taller nation's. He blew gently on the tip, sliding his hand up a creamy thigh and over, to press a finger deep inside the other's entrance, and lapped at the weeping slit of America's erection as another finger joined the first in preparing the nation. Lowering his eyelids, he took the thick head between parted lips, cupping the sensitive flesh with his tongue, toying with it, now circling it wetly, now flickering across it, smiling victoriously when America couldn't stand it anymore, head falling back against the bed, hands fisting the sheets, pleading "Ro-ma-no."

Deciding to be merciful, in one smooth, steady movement, he took the full length of America's cock into his mouth, down his throat. America swore furiously, and Romano chuckled inwardly, taking the opportunity to add a third finger to the others already stretching the blond. America grunted in a mixture of discomfort and pleasure, squirming slightly.

Romano twisted his fingers inside the other. America was tight, too tight. He'd loosened considerably since before, and he was relaxed, but his passage still gripped his fingers tightly, so tightly they were in danger of losing all feeling. Pulling back, he bit his lip, considering. Adding another finger wouldn't help. No matter what, this was going to hurt- both of them, but if he was careful, and patient...with one last twist, he withdrew his fingers, and took hold of his cock, positioning himself at the other's entrance. His other hand squeezed America's thigh, and he locked eyes with the blond. "I'm going to enter you now, bastard. This is going to hurt, no matter how I do it, but I'm going to try and make it as painless as possible, okay? I need you to stay relaxed. Can you do that for me?"

America's eyes flickered, and he bit his lip, but nodded. Romano nodded once, and stroked the other's thigh soothingly. "Eyes on me, alright? Take slow, deep breaths, and if you need to, you can wiggle your toes, that should help." America flexed his toes into the sheets. "That's right, bastard."

Slowly, Romano guided himself into the blond, pressing the thick head of his cock through the tight ring of muscle. America's breath caught, and Romano squeezed his thigh. "Deep breaths, idiot." The nation's chest rose and fell steadily, as America obediently resumed his breathing. Romano resumed his penetration, pressing deeper into the narrow passage. Once he was a few inches in, he released his hold on his cock, and shifted to run his hands up and down the inside of the other's thighs, which were trembling. "You alright, bastard?"

America nodded, swallowing. "It, uh...it's not so bad. It hurts, a bit, but...mostly, it just feels...wierd." he replied, shakily.

Romano nodded. "It helps that you're staying relaxed. You're doing fine, bastard." His hands slid up to grip the other's hips. "This next part is going to hurt, but I promise, it will get better, okay?"

America nodded. "'Kay." he breathed.

"You ready, dammit?"

"Do it."

Romano gripped the other's hips tightly, and drove himself to the hilt inside the other nation. America threw his head back, a pained whine escaping him. Romano's own head fell back, and he swore. "Shit." Too tight, too tight, too tight. Shit. He gritted his teeth, and forced himself to relax, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

He panted, looking to America, whose head was still arched back, eyes shut tight, face screwed up into a pained grimace. His entire body was tense, and he was holding his breath. "America. America, I need you to relax, bastard. You need to relax."

"I'm trying." America replied raggedly, throat working, muscles tight. "Hurts." he forced out through clenched teeth. Romano moved up to press his forehead to the the blond's, petting his hair soothingly.

"I know." he answered shakily. "I know. Just breathe. Just breathe, idiot." America took a deep, shuddering breath. "Good." he praised, continuing to run his hand through the other's hair. "Like that."

"Romano." America whimpered.

"Shhh." He soothed, nuzzling America's temple, his cheekbone, his nose. "Shh, I know. You're alright, bastard." He cupped the back of the other's head, his fingers massaging the nape of his neck. "It'll get better, I promise." He pressed a slow, chaste kiss to the other's lips.

America nodded. "I know." he responded, against Romano's mouth. "I trust you." Romano groaned, his cock pulsing deep inside the other nation. He pressed himself flush against America, bringing both hands to cup the blond's face, sliding to tangle through his hair as he deepened the kiss. He plundered the nation's mouth, delving deep, drinking him in. He brought one hand down between them to rest on the other's chest, pressing against his heart, feeling the beat quicken against his palm. He felt America's erection- which had flagged during the pain of penetration- begin to harden against his stomach, and the blond moaned into his mouth. He pulled back, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the corner of America's mouth, his jawline. The hand which cupped America's head slid down the blond's shoulder, his arm, slowly caressing his torso. Romano lowered his head to flick his tongue over America's ear, nuzzling it, nipping at the sensitive skin just below the blond's earlobe. America tilted his head to the side to give him better access, and he took full advantage, assaulting the blond's neck with teeth and lips and tongue. Slowly he began to gyrate his hips- moving himself inside the other, but not yet in and out, simply rotating himself inside, opening the blond further. America tensed a bit at first, but slowly began to move against the half nation, tentatively lifting his hips. "Mm, good." Romano encouraged, stroking a hand down the length of America's body, sliding it under to grasp the nation's taut ass, squeezing it, brushing his lips over the shell of America's ear. "Feel me inside you." he murmured, lowly. "Filling you, making you mine." he curled his tongue around the plump lobe, sucking it into his mouth. "I can make you feel so good."

America groaned, parting his legs further and lifting his hips in offering, the movement sliding Romano in deeper still. "Oh, yes." Romano moaned. "So good, dammit." Slowly, he began to thrust- shallowly at first, accustoming America to the movement, and gradually pulling out farther and sliding in faster with each thrust. America caught on quickly, moving to meet his thrusts, hungrily taking him in, moaning with each deep penetration. Soon Romano pushed his upper body up off the other for better leverage, gripping the blond's hips, fucking him into the bed. America cried out, trembling, the change in angle grazing his prostate with each thrust, the mixture of pain and intense pleasure setting him writhing.

"Please, Romano, please." he begged, not sure what he was begging for. More? Release? He didn't want this to end, but he could feel his end approaching fast. "Please, Romano, I..."

Whatever it was, Romano seemed to know, because he looped an arm under America's leg, opening him wide, and leaned forward, bending him almost double. He snaked a hand behind America's head, twisting his fingers tightly through his hair, pulling him up for a rough kiss. His thrusts slowed in speed but increased in force, each driving the head of his cock directly into America's prostate, and overwhelmed by the sensation, America came, hard, harder than he ever had in his life, hot, milky liquid spurting out in rapid jets, covering them both in pearly strands.

The tight heat of America's passage, muscles fluttering around him in climax, gripping him tightly, milking him, was enough to send Romano over the edge, and he quickly followed, releasing himself inside the powerful nation.

They both lay like that, spent and panting, for several moments. Eventually Romano released America's leg, lowering the taller nation back to the bed, sprawling across the blond in a slow collapse. America's legs slid to tangle with his. Romano's head lay on the blond's chest, and he blinked slowly, listening to the steady heartbeat. "Can I touch you now?" America asked, tiredly.

"Sure, bastard. Whatever." Romano answered, utterly drained. America draped an arm loosely around his waist, and both nations' eyes slowly drifted closed as they succumbed to their exhaustion, claimed by sleep.

AN: It's not done yet, folks.

I don't know how Romano ended up on top, but I'm not arguing. As a fellow top, I applaud his initiative. Way to go, little wolf. Show 'em how it's done.