Title: The Odd Things in Life
Author: krissykunn
Rating: M
Pairing: CanAme
Warnings: smut, uh…, lots of smut, I had nothing to do tonight okay
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: I, Alfie, do not own Axis Powers Hetalia.
Summary: Basically America and Canada having sex. Enough said, yes?
A/N: I had nothing, and I mean nothing, to do the other night, so I wrote smut while my friends spammed me with porn on skype for inspiration. Thanks to Peace and Maddie (DragonTehWolfeh) for supporting me throughout this piece of fiction!
Strobe lights, drinks, and girls. That's all that Alfred F. Jones could see.
When he looked to the left: oh hey, a girl.
When he looked to the right: oh, more shiny lights.
To the stage not too far away: oh, hey, she's stripping, I should go pay her because she's really good.
To the bar he sat at: oh, more drinks for me I'm feeling a little parched.
The American looked up, sandy hair brushing past his face and falling in its place when he looked back down to the floor where he could see tall heels and spots of dried liquids that he couldn't quite recognize as normal. His gaze drifted over to one of the dark corners, where he could just barely make out as two couples in a corner, grinding against each other as if there were no tomorrow. His stomach ached, and he looked back past the many girls and guys walking throughout the club. A few girls gave him so naughty glances, but he ignored them, sapphire eyes going back to the bar he was currently drinking at. Alfred called for another beer, his speech only a little slurred from the few drinks from before. He could hold out on a few others, he told himself. It was no big deal.
His pocket buzzed, but Alfred ignored it as a girl approached him, a playful, cat-like smirk playing at her plump lips. It was as if someone had broken the rules while no one was looking. Alfred could tell by the growing bite marks and hickeys on her neck that this was possibly true. The blonde looked at her in questioning as she beckoned him to come forward. He stood from the bar; ignoring his drink, resisting the urge to tell it to stay put and that he would be back very soon. When he continued to follow her, he was brought into a back room, which was only lit by the small window coming from the other side of the room. Alfred turned his attention back to her, not quite focusing on her features. All he could think of was getting laid tonight, and that it was going to be good.
She whispered something into his ear, and that's when he noticed how close she had gotten. Alfred held back the shudder he so badly wanted to release as she tickled his ear with her breath. He pulled back to look her in the face, and yet he couldn't tell what she looked like. It disappointed him, but the blonde went with it anyways. He couldn't even tell what her hair colour was. The American reached out, but she stopped him, and the feel of her hand on his amazed him and reminded him of someone, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Eh, well, that didn't matter at the moment. It was the girl that mattered.
Her body pressed against him, and damn did it feel nice. Alfred heard her purr something in his ear, and this time he didn't hold back his pleasured shiver. He wasn't sure of what she had said, but holy shit it turned him on. The blonde was way too drunk off his arse to be able to contemplate anything at this point, but it still felt all the more better while buzzed.
Alfred grabbed for her, arms wrapping around her waist as he kissed her. The feel of her lips against his was soft, and he moaned into the kiss as she tongued at his mouth, coaxing him into opening his lips. When he did, her tongue slipped into his mouth and oh, if it didn't feel good, Alfred wouldn't know what he would do. He mumbled naughty things against her mouth, all the while kissing her back with mostly teeth and tongue. She had begun to get rough, but he was okay with that. He liked it when it was rough. Tonight was going to be good, he concluded, slowly pushing her towards the wall. But before he could push her against it, he discovered himself to be pushed away and onto a bed. Damn, was she strong!
He let out a breathy laugh, looking up at the dark ceiling and rolling his hips a bit as she straddled him. Alfred grabbed her hips, ridding her of her clothes quickly, as she did with his. They were both quickly stark naked, and he went to grab for her, but then she pushed him down onto his back, and… was that a strap-on? Oh… Alfred groaned as two fingers pressed at his arsehole, and he could feel that there was either saliva or lube or something on them, thank the lord. They pressed past the first ring of his muscle and his groan was louder this time, one more of a pain than of anticipation. He writhed beneath her, dying to see what she looked like. The way her fingers twisted in and out and scissored him and oh—
The American moaned loudly as his prostate was struck by the woman's fingers, thrusting his hips back to meet her hand. Oh lord, how that had felt nice. He chuckled again, this time it being interrupted another moan. He pushed back again, whimpering in his pleasure, which was increased by the many drinks he had drank earlier at the bar. "D-Do it," he growled between his groans and pants, shuddering as that sweet spot was once again struck.
He swore he heard her give a small giggle, and the fingers were removed, to his disappointment, even though he had told her to take them out. Alfred tried to look back, but a hand collided with his face and he was forced to look back down at the bed. Damn, he really wanted to see her face! He wanted to thank her properly later, thank her for her service.
Oh, would he have to pay her? How long had it been? How much did it charge?
None of these questions went through Alfred's mind, as he was too busy occupied with a thick, almost too real-feeling to be fake cock up his arse. It didn't take Alfred much longer to cum; maybe about ten minutes of thrusting and a few strokes to his cock did he do so. He came with a moan and a grunt of something that he couldn't quite understand even himself. He slumped, the feeling of something filling him not even going through his head as he drifted off to sleep.
"Damn…"
Alfred rolled over onto his back, groaning in pain. "My back hurts like as bitch," he complained, wincing as his lower back caused him more pain as he tried to maneuver over to the point of a comfortable position. But it never came.
He looked around, noticing that he was in a different bed other than his, and that a figure was beside him. Who the hell had he banged this time? Where was that girl?
Now hold on—
His back wouldn't be hurting if he were the pitcher, now would it? Did that mean…
Quickly, Alfred rolled the figure over to face him, pulling on his glasses to look at the calm and peaceful face that was beside him.
….it was his brother.
Why the hell was his brother in his bed.
"Yo, Matt!" he whispered, poking and prodding at the Canadian's shoulder a bit. He glared at the sleeping face of his brother when he didn't wake up. He tried poking at Matthew's face instead, earning a disgruntled complaint and a swat at his hand. Well, it was a response. "Wake up," Alfred hissed into the other's ear, pouting.
After a few minutes of stretching and moaning about how he wanted a few more minutes, Matthew blinked a few times in confusion, trying to focus on the face that was in front of him. He frowned. "Al?" he murmured. You could hear the confusion clear in his voice. "When did you get here?" Matthew looked down and pulled the sheets up to peer down at himself. He looked back up at his brother. "And why are we—"
At this, Alfred frowned too, looking at Matthew's confused frown slowly morph into a delighted smirk, the Canadian's eyes narrowed. "Matt?" he mumbled, his turn to be confused. "Are ya alright there, buddy?"
Matthew's smirk only widened.
"Last night was fun."
"…'xcuse me?"
"We should do it again."
A/N: This was fun to write. Compliments and criticism are gladly welcome!