The official name for this story is Growing Pains (in the Arse) -laughs- I don't know how I feel about the genre of romance for this but I'm not really sure what to put it under... This was written while listening to Personal Jesus (Depeche Mode), edited to Pub and Go (England), and written for InsaneChickOfWriting (200th reviewer).

The prompt: America/England before the split. England tries to put America in his place after growing so fast and trying to be independent.

I really had a lot of fun with this, I simply adore pre-split and American revolution UKxUS/USxUK~ I hope you enjoy it!

To say England is irritated would be an understatement. England is beside himself, livid, incensed, flabbergasted. What in the bloody hell had gotten into America?

The whole mess had started with America's freakish growth spurt. England had been gone for barely the blink of an eye. When he had left America's house the boy was a frightened child begging him to stay. When he had returned the boy was suddenly taller than him and brimming with a newfound confidence that England found somewhat grating.

America had gone from being a sweet, obedient darling to... well, to a defiant, moody brat. One growth spurt and he was complaining about his lack of 'freedom' as if he actually deserved it. As if it was some great right. As if indeed. America was his. Not only that but now he had started grumbling about how possessive England was being. He had the nerve, the pure audacity, to say he wanted to trade and build relationships with other countries. To start making his own decisions. And all because of one bloody growth spurt!

England wouldn't be having any of that.

Even if he had the body of an adult now, America most certainly was still a child. He even oozed a certain wide-eyed innocence that lingered from his childhood days. It might be hard for him to understand right now in this awkward growing period, but he had no idea what was actually best for him. England would guide him until he matured into a decent gentleman that would do the British Empire proud.

Yes, it seemed the best course of action for now would be to have a serious chat with his young colony to try and rationally explain all of this. And that's just what he would do. Right after tea time of course.

~.

America tugs at his tie. England kept insisting he wear suits but they made him feel stuffy. Why couldn't he wear the clothes he wanted? However, England had sent a note ahead of himself announcing his looming arrival. No doubt he would nag America if he wasn't dressed 'properly'. Usually America enjoys England's visits but as of late they had become... Well, unpleasant. Even now America has a sense of dread that this visit would turn into yet another lecture about something he wasn't allowed to do or something to that effect.

When there is a knock at the door America is temporarily overcome with a great urge to pretend he is not home. The urge passes and he goes to the door, opening it for England. "Hello Arthur. Come in."

"Hello Alfred, nice to see you. You're looking...."

Tall

"Well. You look well."

America closes the door. "Thanks, I am. You look sort of irritated."

England flashes him 'the look' that tells him his earlier fears were correct. "I am."

Sighing inwardly, America follows him into the parlor. England sits down on the couch and America takes a seat in the chair at an angle to it. A little late, America remembers he should offer hospitality. "Would you like some of your own overpriced tea?"

England makes a sour face. "No. And that attitude is exactly why I am irritated!"

America slumps in the chair, a small frown forming. "I'm just speaking the truth."

Insulted, England leans forward and points a finger at him. "Sit up properly! And the tea is not overpriced. It's... it's expensive no matter where you get it right now."

Not to mention money was starting to get a little bit tight and America did just so happen to serve as a source of revenue...

Offering a defiant glare, America slumps down further. "I guess I wouldn't know considering you're forbidding me from buying things from anyone else. It's not fair! I'm getting old enough to make decisions for myself. You're so overbearing!"

Rolling his eyes and tsking, England rubs his eyebrow. "Oh not this rubbish again. You will do as I say. After all, just because you've done some growing recently does not mean you are prepared to take full responsibility for your own actions. Give it some time and you'll gradually gain privileges as you start to earn them. For now just obey me you whelp!"

America grinds his teeth. He liked England. But as of late he had become intolerable. "Stop it. Stop treating me like a child!"

"How can I when you are a child? Here, let me explain this to you the best way I can..."

As England goes off on a long winded lecture, America blocks him out. Why wouldn't England acknowledge that he was growing up? Maybe his eyes were clouded with paternal sentimentalism. There just had to be some way to show him just how adult he'd become. But how best to make him see?

America tries to think of the most grown up thing he can and an idea finally comes to him. He stands up and moves over next to England, who is so caught up in his speech he hasn't noticed. England suddenly turns to face America to make a strong point. "Furthermore-"

His voice cuts off, startled when he finally realizes how close America has suddenly gotten. So close it was lucky his head hadn't knocked into his when he turned.

"What do you think you're doing?"

America places his hands on England's shoulders. "I am not a child."

He closes the gap between them and clumsily kisses England. For a moment he struggles to make them fit together properly. It felt like his nose was impossibly in the way. Finally it feels comfortable and right. He tries to gather all of his knowledge on this sort of thing. He knows a more 'grown up' version of the kiss involves the tongue but he isn't exactly sure what he's supposed to do with it other than stick it in the other person's mouth.

America pulls away to take a breath before taking on this new challenge. England stares at him in utter shock. "A-A-Am-m-merica! What are you... what do you..."

Ignoring him completely, America presses their lips together again, this time more confidently. He was a fast learner. With just a pinch of uncertainty America presses his tongue against England's lips, seeking entry. England jerks back at the gesture but America comes at him determinedly, finally slipping his tongue into England's mouth. However, once it's there he's not sure what to do with it. It felt stupid to just have it lying there so he tries moving it. He can feel England tense beneath his fingers. So that seemed to be the right thing to do. His tongue slides over England's. It feels really strange but in a rather pleasant way. In fact, he thinks he might like it.

When he pulls back to take another breath he is shocked to see the usually grumpy or proper Arthur suddenly looks flushed and... America doesn't quite know the word to describe it. Hungry...? Wanting...? The sight makes his cheeks flush instantly, even more than the kiss had.

England seems to shake himself out of his daze. "S-stop it this instant! You can't... you can't do this."

The conviction in his voice is rather weak, America notices. Mustering his strength, America pushes England back against the couch, floundering a bit until he is straddling him.

"If you won't believe that I'm not so little anymore I'll just prove it to you."

England forces himself to take calming breathes. Admittedly the kiss had taken him off guard. It had been... well, a while and the last person he had expected that from was his colony. "Do not be so foolish Alfred. Cease this at once. You are not even old enough to know about... about this sort of thing!"

America tosses his head. "Shows what you know. France told me all about it! I might not remember everything but I have the general gist of it."

England feels anger well up inside him. "What?! I'm going to kill Francis for this! That bloody wanker putting filthy thoughts into your head! Get off of me immediately Alfred."

America firmly stands his ground. "No. I told you, I'm going to make you see me as an adult."

This was beyond ridiculous. Surely this was not really happening... England tries to sit up and America pushes him back down, pressing on his chest with one hand. "You aren't going anywhere."

England stares at America, speechless. America decides to take advantage of his temporary silence and reaches down, groping England's crotch. The result is...interesting.

England's back arches slightly and a small, odd little gasp escapes him. "America, stop!"

'How,' England wonders flusterdly. 'How have things come to this?'

For the first time America notices it. This man who had once held him was now so... small.

America grabs England's wrist and pins it down, uncurling his hand. He presses his hand to it and observes the way it easily covers England's. It felt like a moment of enlightenment. It had simply been one of those things he had taken for granted but hadn't quite realized the full impact of.

"When did I get so much bigger than you England?"

England suddenly frowns. "Very funny. Now get off of me!"

America shakes his head, stroking England's palm. "I'm being serious. I never... I never fully noticed until this moment. I am getting so big... and I want... I want you to acknowledge it too."

England tries to ignore the blood rushing in his face, the tickle of America tracing patterns against his palm. "I acknowledge that, yes, but getting bigger and growing up are two very different things entirely."

America stops tracing and traps the wrist in his hand. "So I have to prove it after all."

England starts to shift beneath America. He was so damn heavy. "Don't prove anything! Besides, you can't seriously make me believe you will actually go through with that! You're completely inexperienced."

America smirks cockily. "Watch me."

Despite his outward appearance he is a bit nervous. After all, he had never done this before. He takes a deep breath and starts to unbutton England's vest then shirt just to prove how serious he is.

"Your hands are trembling," England remarks coolly.

They were. America glowers at him. "Be quiet! How can I concentrate with all your criticisms?"

Despite this little show England doesn't take him seriously. Of course he wasn't really going to do anything. No doubt America wouldn't get further than past England's shirt, definitely nothing below the waist. He would get nervous and quit. This was just too unreal to actually happen. He is thoroughly convinced of himself when America starts to kiss his chest.

He closes his eyes and tries to force himself to clear his mind. This was America, his colony, his cute little brother. He wasn't allowed to be sexually attracted to him. This whole thing was just a tantrum of sorts to be tolerated to a point then punished. Once America realized his folly he would... he would... Oh god help him England is horny as all hell. It had been way too long since he had actually been with someone intimately.

'Please, Alfred, for my sanity discover your folly soon!' He thinks distractedly.

America licks his nipple and he bites back a groan. 'Please give up now!'

Instead he begins to nibble it. England determinedly withholds any and all sounds of eroticism his mouth attempts to make.

Suddenly the nibbling becomes too rough. "Ouch! Don't bite it like that! It isn't food! You have to be gentle idiot!"

America looks up at him and grins sheepishly. "Sorry."

England blinks in amazement. When had Alfred become so handsome?

N-no! He couldn't let his mind go there. America was not attractive! He was... he was... an idiot!

The idiot starts to take off England's pants. "Hey!"

America tugs them down along with his knickers, adjusting his own position and weight so he can get them off properly. "Hey yourself. I told you didn't I? I'm not stopping until I've proven I'm not a child!"

America seems almost as embarrassed as England when he sees him fully unclothed. England should stop this now. It was definitely escalating past the point he had ever expected it to go.

America rubs the back of his head, eyes shyly jumping between England's body and the floor. "I... I remember um.... France saying something about p-preparing before actually starting but I don't really know how..."

He looks at England helplessly and for a moment England wants to hold him to his chest. No, that was the wrong reaction. "I... Th-this has to stop now. We can't possibly..."

He sputters a moment more then looks up at Alfred. The sky blue eyes fixed shyly but determinedly finally do it. He sighs, defeated. Bullocks. "Let go of my wrist and let me have your hand."

America hesitates then obeys with a shrug. England takes America's hand to his mouth and begins to suck on his fingers, coating them with saliva. America watches him curiously, liking the look on England's face while he's doing it.

Finally the fingers slip away from England's warm mouth. America looks at them then to England for further guidance. England doesn't know why he's doing this. America's lack of knowledge on what to do proves how immature he still is. In that moment England reaffirms that he is probably a terrible person for doing this even knowing that.

"You have to... stretch..." He clears his throat. "Use your fingers to... to stretch me out. Only start with one then slip the second one in... and... I'll tell you if you need a third or not. Hurry up before the saliva dries already. If you are really going to do it then do it."

America swallows hard. He could do this. It would prove how grown up he is, how much he deserves more freedom.

He presses the first finger into England who looks extremely uncomfortable. Maybe he was doing it wrong...

England relaxes his body. "Come on Alfred, move it. Prove yourself if you must."

America flushes and starts moving his finger back and forth. His heart is beating rather quickly in his chest. This was sort of embarrassing. Ah, and he hadn't taken off any of his clothes yet...

Another idea comes to him.

"Arthur, while I do this undress me."

It's not a request, it's a demand. A rather forceful demand.

England finds the tone oddly titillating. Without a single harsh word he reaches up to loosen America's tie and sees that his hands are now trembling as well.

As he starts to undress America, America adds the second finger hoping it wasn't too soon. England pauses when he does then continues on, breathing heavily.

As America does his best to do something he's never done before, it occurs to him that England knew exactly what to do, how to do it...

England had had sex before.

Well of course, part of America knows that is obvious but like his sudden recognition of their height difference it had never been something he was really aware of. The thought makes him slightly uncomfortable.

"E-England... have... have you done this a lot?"

England pauses on the last button of America's shirt. "Well... What would you consider a lot?"

America shakes his head. That almost seemed like answer enough. "Never mind."

Maybe it was England's imagination but America's fingers seem a little less gentle. America suddenly pulls them away and shrugs off all of his layers on the top half of his body. England feels oddly empty without them. He frowns. What did America think he was doing? It was a bit soon to stop. The thought is reinforced when America sheds the rest of his clothing.

America grabs England's legs and spreads them. He understood this part. Besides, France had talked about it with great relish. It would be hard to forget.

England tries to sit up. "Wait, I'm not ready yet! You have to-"

America feels a flicker of annoyance. "I don't have to do anything. I've decided."

Then, with greater conviction. "I have decided."

With that he presses into England. England hisses with discomfort, nails digging into his palms. America's body shudders and he slumps against England, face pressed against the crook of his neck. This felt amazing. Never in his fairly short life had he felt something so incredibly good.

And he hadn't even started yet.

Finding his strength again, America pulls back then rocks back in, closing his eyes. "G-great, England you feel... you feel really great."

England winces as America starts to rock his hips more and more steadily. "B-bloody brat, for this I'm going to increase all the import taxes again."

America pants heavily in response. All he can do is continue to move in and out of England like a wave. Even the notion of stopping is purely impossible. His body has a mind of its own, and all it is thinking about is Arthur. More specifically being inside Arthur. Such a wonderful place to be.

While England does have to suffer a bit until his body finishes adjusting to America's girth, eventually it starts to feel good. Not the best partner he's ever had by a long shot but it was the kid's first time so he would give him a break.

He lets out a soft moan and a part of his mind, his conscious he supposes, shies from the pleasure.

What was he doing, what was he doing, what was he doing? With his colony, the one he considered a little brother, the one he considered a child. Dear lord what was he doing and what was wrong with him?

England decides to ignore that part of his mind and instead opens himself fully to the shocks of pleasure that run down his spine.

"Mmm... America, harder, just a bit harder... Not that hard... yes that's good, that's good. Oh mmm that's very good."

He was so close...

Unfortunately America is just a little bit closer. It was too much. He tries to hold out longer, just a bit please just a-

He loses it. With one last roll of his hips he comes hard. He gasps and clutches England's thigh hard enough to leave a bruise. He lies tiredly against England for a moment. His body feels a bit weak and he is still experiencing aftershocks of pleasure.

England looks up at the ceiling and mutters in his head. Bullocks, bullocks, bloody hell, bullocks.

So close.

Gleaming with a thin coat of sweat, America finally sits up, face flushed with embarrassment. "I...I'm sorry. I tried, I really did..."

England releases a disgruntled sigh. "It's fine. After all, you are still young. You'll get better at it."

America bristles. He suddenly grabs England's cock roughly and gives it a few good pumps.

The unexpected fierceness of it is enough to finally offer him sweet release. His body jerks sporadically a few times as he gasps.

America licks his fingers. "France says a real man always makes sure his partner comes in one fashion or another."

England's face flushes. "Y-you impudent little-"

America leans down and kisses him. And, happily, finally shuts England up.

~.

America lies in his bed that night, staring into the darkness. There was no doubt about it. Even if England wanted to deny it a part of him had definitely been forced to acknowledge the fact that America was no longer a little boy who could be controlled.

The experience had opened America's eyes as well.

I have decided. And if you won't let me go... then I'll simply have to leave.

~End

AN: Ehehe England: The sexually frustrated gentleman. Sorry, I just think it's pretty silly when people are magically good at sex their first time. Plus America's not quite at full bravado yet right? I'm also proud of this for joining the ranks of stories where the sex doesn't satisfy both people perfectly -laughs- Thanks for the reviews and support, it really means so much to me!