A/N: Can't believe I'm writing this. I don't write mature stories let alone non-hetero mature stories…Oh well, I can just make an exception this one time. Sorry for any spelling mistakes; I have dyslexia and I might not have caught it. Feel free to point them out for me if you see them so I can fix them.
Another thing, I switch off between human names and country names. Alfred/America, Arthur/England. That's all you basically really need to follow if you don't know their names. Sorry.
***
Arthur Kirkland was not one to worry. In fact, he practically made it his unwritten duty not to worry. Yes, once upon a time this particular emotion would wriggle its way in when concerning an unmentioned ex-colony of his, but since their little…fallout a few centuries ago, he had made sure he had little to worry about.
When America had missed his first world meeting, it was nothing worth commenting over; nothing worth mentioning really. A few murmurs were heard around the conference room but England paid them no heed and continued organizing his papers. Perhaps young Alfred had gotten ill or was caught up in some late work. He was in an economic crisis as everyone knew. England merely shook it off and continued with his day as if nothing was different.
When America had missed his second world meeting, it was enough to draw England's eyes to his empty chair down the table. France's words as he gave his speech went in one ear and out the other. No. It's nothing. He's just trying to gain some sort of attention like usual, England thought shutting his eyes and furrowing his brow. Well he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. He didn't care. Not in the slightest.
When America had missed his third world meeting, England couldn't help the raise of his large eyebrows in surprise upon entering a much quieter room than he expected. He also couldn't help his annoying fidgeting as various countries gave their presentations. His right leg tapped at the floor under the table making it sound like he was taking tap lessons. He chewed slightly on his lower lip and glanced over every thirty seconds at America's empty seat. He acknowledged that maybe, perhaps, he was a tad bit concerned when Romano's irritated hand shot out and gripped his own that was incessantly tapping his pen against the side of the table.
"Bloody hell…" England muttered angrily under his breath when everyone proceeded to gather their things and prepare to leave. He quickly tucked his tiny briefcase that contained various notes and charts under his arm and quickly made his way over to Canada who was almost out the door. Placing his hand on his shoulder, England tried his best to seem calm when Canada jumped and turned to look at him with curious eyes. Slowly a friendly smile crawled upon his face.
"England. How are you?" he asked in his usual quiet voice. He turned to face him fully now and Arthur did his best to return the smile.
"I'm doing very well, thank you for asking. How have you been? I never did get around to congratulating you on your winning gold in hockey at the Olympics." He shifted his weight on his feet awkwardly and moved aside so others could pass through the door.
"I'm doing pretty good. Thank you, I appreciate it," Matthew said trying to contain his smile and the hue appearing on his cheeks. He really did appreciate a good game of hockey. Casually, Arthur saw his opening to bring up his brother and wasted no time doing so.
"Yes," he said placing his hand under his chin in thought, "If I remember correctly you played your brother. I never thought it would be that close of a game. He's usually stuffing his face with grease that I was surprised he could even walk across a room without going into a gasping fit."
"O-oh? Yeah, it was a close game. I shouldn't under estimate Alfred. He can surprise you at the least suspected moment," Canada laughed and gripped the white bear closer to his chest.
Giving an impatient smile, England took a step forward and tilted his head to the side. "Yes, well, I'm not going to argue there. Speaking of that idiot and his surprises, he's been pulling one for three months now by not showing up here. It's not wise for a country to do that, especially one with as much power as he does," he muttered and couldn't help but let his usual glower fill his features. The words 'America' and 'world power' did not taste good on his tongue.
Canada suddenly started to look uneasy and glance off to the side, still managing to keep a tiny smile on his lips. "Yeah. That's what I've been telling him."
"You've been talking to each other?"
"Yeah…"
Sighing England shook his head. "Well what is wrong with him this time? Is he just trying to rile everyone up and make a big entrance when he returns? I wouldn't put it past him."
"Well…"Canada trailed off and looked down at his feet. England couldn't help it when his heart fluttered nervously for a second. "Actually, England…"
Arthur leaned forward unconsciously wanting to ease this relentless curiosity that has been plaguing his mind for months.
"Alfred told me that if you asked I should tell you…"
He was practically hovering over the cautious Canadian by now. So Alfred had mentioned him personally?
"'If that old man asks about me tell him he should just go drink some of his gross leafy water and just leave me alone. It's all his fault that I'm doing this anyway.'"
When Canada glanced back up he flinched seeing the full blown rage in his former caretaker's eyes. England gripped his briefcase till his knuckles turned white as Canada's, or rather Alfred's, words sunk in. In Alfred's mind it was normal to insult and place blame on someone for being concerned about him? Oh, that was just too much!
"He said that?!" he barked in disbelief and Canada quickly backed away from the erupting Brit. "Of all the idiotic, inane – He said that? How does he think his absence is my fault!" He stopped his angry rant when a small chuckle to his left made him shoot his fiery gaze to an amused Frenchman who was watching this display like a matinee movie. "What is so goddamn funny if you don't mind me asking?" he spat.
France merely shook his head and waved his hand in dismissal. "Nothing, nothing. Continue with your little outburst, mon chéri."
England grit his teeth and directed his full attention to the amused Frenchman obviously hiding something. "If you're just going to stand around watching you might want to try to contribute something to this little discussion, and you know I use that term loosely when it concerns either you or that idiot."
Francis shrugged and pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against. "No need to throw around insults. Perhaps that may be the reason Amérique has been absent, it could be this very fact. Your tongue is most definitely a double edged sword, Angleterre." England paused furrowing his brow in confusion at France's words. His insults seemed to just bounce off America. That couldn't be the reason. Why would France even bother to say –? His thoughts were silenced seeing the knowing smirk pulling at the edge of France's lips.
"What do you know?" England demanded not liking the fact that France knew about America's predicament before he did. France just gave a small chuckle before placing a comforting hand on the Briton's shoulder.
"What makes you think I know something?" England fumed seeing the amusement dancing in the other's eyes.
"Your ugly mug and pretentious attitude."
At this France couldn't help but laugh and lean back. "Pretentious? That could be true," he admitted before conceding. "Yes, I do know something that might ease your distress."
"I'm not distressed," England denied futilely.
"This would be much easier if you would be more truthful," Francis chided and continued on quickly when he saw Arthur's mouth open to retort. "Yes. Little Alfred has been talking to me all the while you've been sitting troubled in these meetings."
His words were like a distinct slap in the face. England felt like recoiling in confusion, questioning the authenticity of the other nation's words all the while. He glanced out of the corner of his eye to see Canada look a bit puzzled before something sunk below the surface and his face smoothed out in understanding. Canada too? Was America just trying to tick him off and make him feel more distant by leaving him out of the loop. Hurt became covered by anger and before he knew it England was smacking away the Frenchman's hand.
"What are you blathering about? Alfred's been talking to you?" he asked in skepticism. Why would America go to France of all people? It just didn't make any sense. I mean, he didn't expect him to necessarily come to him for support with whatever was going on but he wasn't expecting him to go to France!
" Certes oui! Almost every night now," Francis said and couldn't contain his smile seeing the horror sliding down England's face.
"Y-you're lying," England denied shaking his head. This was ridiculous. He couldn't possibly be telling the truth; he wouldn't believe him. And yet his heart was echoing in his ears helping his migraine slowly make its way to the surface.
"Ah, but I'm not. I must say you have quite an effect on the boy even after so long," Francis thought aloud making Arthur flinch. "He is really intent on not seeing you."
England felt his head spinning. So Alfred really was angry with him…But for what? Saying he was fat or stupid every now and then? That made absolutely no sense. He had been telling him that for decades, there was no way it was sinking in just now. Another disturbing thought crossed his mind back to a certain rainy night he had tried to keep buried under anger and spite. No; that was out of the question. That was too long ago. Besides if anyone had the right to be angry about that it was Arthur not Alfred!
"I haven't done anything to him. Why does he insist on putting the blame on me?" he demanded practically shaking with frustration. It was then that France and Canada exchanged a meaningful glance that made the muscles in his neck tense.
"That's between you two I suppose," France muttered getting all his things in place ready to leave. He was holding something back that Alfred probably didn't want him to reveal. "May I suggest you giving him a little visit? I think it would become perfectly clear if you two were face to face." France smiled before muttering 'Adieu' and exiting.
England, now thoroughly perplexed, directed his full attention back onto the nervous Canada. He shifted his feet before slowly edging his way after France. "I - I agree with Francis, Arthur. I can't say but you, I really think you should give him a call."
England blinked as the younger nation make a quick dart for the door and disappeared leaving him there with a jumble of emotions he definitely couldn't sort out.
Give him a call…huh?
xxx
Against his better judgment England found himself in front of his nicely polished historical black telephone in his hallway that night. His forehead had his usual crease in between his eyebrows and his hand hovered precariously over the handle. He breathed a frustrated sigh and shut his eyes. This had been a stupid idea. He had been standing like a fool, his hand over his phone for a good ten minutes now and it was starting to get ridiculous. Why should calling Alfred be so hard? It wasn't like he had anything to feel guilty over…
Then why was it that he felt a tad bit guilty?
Giving a groan of aggravation Arthur thrust his hands into his hair ruffling it like a madman till the strands fell unorganized framing his face. He huffed angrily and glared out of the corner of his eye at the phone. Shooting his hand out he heatedly dialed his current nuisance's number. When the phone finally started to ring he waited patiently glaring at nothing in particular on the wall.
After the fourth ring England impatiently tapped his shoe against the hardwood floor. The rings continued until it hit America's answering machine.
Hey! You've reached America the greatest! Unfortunately for you I'm not in at the moment. I'm sorry for ruining your day but if you leave a name and message I'll make it up to you and get back to you!
Arthur rolled his eyes at the ego this boy had hearing the laughter echoing against his ear. He was about to hang up and give up when the last part of the message caught his interest. Alfred's voice suddenly dropped from cheerful to displeased with a bit of anger sprinkled in. His cheerfulness was dissolved and was replaced with seriousness.
Unless this is England in which case, stop calling me.
The beep signaling the message would start being recorded reached England's ears as he stared wide eyed at the phone in his hand. He remained silent completely astonished that Alfred was angry enough to include him in his answering machine. Anger bubbling up from the bottom of his stomach Arthur slammed the phone down nearly cracking it. He breathed deeply before stubbornly dialing the number again.
He waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Hey! You've reached America the –
Slamming the phone down again he repeated the cycle and hit redial. England stood stiff as a board waiting impatiently hearing the ringing of the phone. As the ring made its way to five Arthur was about to hang up and try again before he was transferred to the answering machine when suddenly there was a definite click.
Someone had picked up.
Not going to be the first one to make a noise Arthur listened to the silence on the other end. A few seconds passed and Arthur gripped the phone uneasily. Hurry up and say something you – his thoughts were cut off when a familiar voice broke through the silence.
"Hello?" they asked curiously. Arthur blinked at how normal the voice sounded; it was like nothing was wrong at all. "Hello?" Alfred asked again and sounded as if he were eating something.
Inhaling quietly through his nose Arthur leveled his voice and spoke. "Hello, Alfred."
Upon hearing his voice the Brit heard constant choking on the other end of the phone. He pursed his lips waiting for Alfred to regain his composure. A few straggling coughs resonated before silence enveloped the two of them once more. Arthur put a finger to his temple and shut his eyes. "That's what you get for eating and picking up the phone. Honestly I –"
Before England was able to finish his sentence the dial tone reverberated through his receiver. He stared in complete incredulity at the phone, his words stuck in his throat. "Did he just – he…" Arthur growled and slammed his phone down. His jaw clenched and his blood boiled. He had never been so angry in his entire life it felt like. Stomping down the hall the man practically saw red. He hadn't even done anything to Alfred! So why was he so angry with him?
Upon reaching the end of his hallway he stopped and turned around ready to head back when he thought better of himself and continued intent on getting away from his phone. Thirty seconds later he was practically dashing towards the phone again dialing with intensity that could almost rival Russia.
He waited impatiently until the third ring when Alfred picked up again, normality coating his words like sugar. It made Arthur want to punch something, preferably Alfred.
"Hello?"
"How dare you hang up on me you –!"
England practically shouted when he was hung up on yet again. Hanging up he picked up and hit redial again. This time Alfred did not answer, probably already knowing who was calling. England was greeted with a slightly different recorded answering machine message.
Hey! You've reached America the greatest! Unfortunately for you I'm not in at the moment. I'm sorry for ruining your day but if you leave a name and message I'll make it up to you and get back to you!
Laughter followed making England grit his teeth before Alfred's tone turned dark yet again.
I was serious, England. Stop bothering me.
"At the tone, please –" the woman didn't have the time to finish her instructions before Arthur hung up. He stood breathing heavily hovering over his tormented phone, his fists clenched at his sides. Slowly he backed up till his back came in contact with the wall and he slid down. Resting his elbow against his knee Arthur placed his hand over his face and rubbed it through his hair dejectedly.
"What the hell did I do wrong?" he asked no one in particular. The defeat in his tone made his eyes sting and his chest tighten. He didn't know what he had done to make America so insistent on keeping away from him but he knew he needed to fix it.
And soon.
xxx
When Alfred had heard a knock on his door three days after the conference he missed he expected it to be Canada again checking up on him; or possibly France. In fact, he had expected the phone calls days ago to be France not England. Hearing his voice had practically made him leap out of his skin. Just the sound of his voice made every muscle he had tighten and give his forehead a nice layer of sweat. He didn't need to deal with that let alone risk it.
Chewing on a granola bar and shaking off his anxious thoughts about England Alfred made his way to the front door. It was a boring day and he wasn't expecting it to get any more exciting with Canada here. Opening the door and already turning away Alfred didn't spare a glance at the visitor he had invited in.
"Come on in, Mattie. You're a couple days late. Usually you get here right after the conference," Alfred said humming calmly to himself. He made it halfway down the entry way before a voice tore through his head and made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
"So Matthew comes here that often, huh?"
With almost mechanical motions Alfred looked over his shoulder with wide, nervous eyes at the person he really didn't want to see standing in his doorway. The granola bar fell from his lips and onto the floor when he met the unhappy green eyes of England. He shifted fully so he was nearly facing him a good twenty feet away before England spoke up again.
"I thought we should discuss your recent behavior in person," he said as if reading the younger nation's thoughts. "May I come in?"
As England's foot moved forward Alfred felt a chill of panic riding through his gut like a rollercoaster. He scurried forward surprising Arthur and began to shut the door on him. Not wanting to be shut out England quickly stuck his foot in the path of the doorway and winced when it slammed into his foot. America really didn't want to see him that much, huh? Pushing back with as much force against the edgy nation as possible England attempted to force his way into his home. "Is this how you greet someone who took consideration to come all the way across the pond to see you?!" he growled and managed to wedge his elbow in between the door.
"I never asked you to!" America yelled back trying to kick England's foot out of the way. This made Arthur's stomach sink and he couldn't arm himself against the hurt that inevitably reached his face. Frowning Arthur gave a hard shove that sent the door flying open and Alfred across the floor landing ungracefully on his butt. He stared up at the fuming man with large eyes and an almost terrified expression on his face.
Arthur took a few good steps into the house before kicking the door shut behind him with a slam. Well this was going well. He had intended to have a calm, non-violent conversation with Alfred but he had proven it impossible. The only way they would ever be able to communicate, it seemed, was with loud words and angry remarks.
"You didn't have to ask me, you practically made me!" Arthur said glaring down at the speechless blonde. Go figure, the one time Alfred was speechless was the one time Arthur wanted him to talk. "I demand to know what I did. If you're going to be angry at me then I at least deserve the reason."
Alfred merely stared up at the angry man, his mouth hanging slightly open, a few pieces of his granola bar still stuck to his cheeks. Arthur blinked noticing the slight shake in his shoulders and the dread in his eyes. Seeing him like this sent a wave of unease through the Brit and he clenched his jaw in frustration. Why was he looking at him like that? Why?
"Say something!" he demanded desperately making Alfred flinch. Arthur leaned down and reached out, probably to grab at his collar, when Alfred's eyes bugged out and he slapped his hand away in a panic. Getting the feeling back in his legs he quickly bolted and disappeared upstairs.
Arthur froze and glanced at his hand that had just been knocked away. The sound of heavy footsteps above brought him back to reality; the reality that Alfred had hit him. He let out a pained groan of dissatisfaction before shooting to his feet and following the young nation with lightning speed. Finally finding the door Alfred took temporary refuge behind Arthur began pounding on it to the point his hand throbbed.
"Alfred!" he yelled speaking the name he bestowed upon him that he used in such rare occasions. "Open this door! You're acting completely ridiculous!" The sound of rustling behind the door paused for a moment before picking up. Heart pounding in his ears Arthur threw his body against the wood. "Alfred!"
Two more thrusts against the door and it gave way. Arthur awkwardly stumbled inside and glanced up to have his eyes snag on Alfred's blue ones. His leg was already hanging out the window and it suddenly clicked in Arthur's mind; he was trying to flee.
Skin crawling Arthur stormed across the room and pulled him back in by his shoulders before he could scurry down a nearby tree. Alfred made an uncomfortable grunt when hitting the mattress below him. Arthur turned and leaned over him on his knees grabbing him by his collar. He gave Alfred no time to retaliate when he was pulled face to face with a practically desperate Arthur. Arthur's breath fluttered across his cheeks in quick puffs making Alfred's gut churn in a different way; a way that terrified him.
"What…What did I do? Tell me," England demanded quietly his previous adrenaline dying down to a simmer. His brows furrowed as his green eyes darted around the American's face in hopes of recognizing anything he could work with. His frown deepened when he didn't see anger on Alfred's face. Wasn't he mad at him? England gave a weak growl as his chest tightened yet again. Why was it that Alfred's actions hurt him so much?
"Please. Did I insult you in some offhanded way? Did I not pay attention to some 'great' feat you've accomplished recently or something? Obviously it's something worth putting off your duties and avoiding me for months. Tell me because this is driving me crazy!" England barked and his hands gripped the fabric tighter. So much for maintaining all of his pride and composure.
Alfred looked like he was ready to attempt suicide by stuffing his head under the pillow behind him. His eyes were looking anywhere but the face of the man mere inches away from his own. He fidgeted uncomfortably and held his breath making his face tense up. At his silence Arthur practically felt his insides eating away at themselves. Finally Alfred's lips began to move awkwardly.
"C-can – can you get off of me?" he asked feebly staring intently at the wall behind England's surprised head. He glared.
"Answer my question first."
"No," Alfred said shaking his head quickly. He let out a shaky breath against Arthur's jaw. His bottom lip quivered lightly concerning England.
"Why not?" he almost yelled but controlled himself.
"I can't," Alfred reluctantly admitted. His face was hot and the tips of his bangs were starting to stick to his forehead as a nervous sweat overcame him. His voice was hollow and restricted.
"Why? I demand to know, Alfred!"
"Please, Ar – England," he corrected himself gently trying to remove the older nation's hands from his shirt. Arthur was surprised to feel how moist they were. Was Alfred really this nervous to tell him; that just made him all the more curious.
"Stop it," Arthur said unconsciously pulling him closer to keep Alfred's hands at bay. He noted the slight gasp elicited from the blonde below him.
"England –"
"No. Alfred, tell me!"
"I can't!" Alfred yelled back finally looking at him. His face was strained and his eyebrows furrowed while he bit his lip. He huffed seeing the determination on England's face. He just wanted to be as far from him as possible. "I can't. It's not worth it," he muttered irritated.
"What do you mean not worth it? You think I'm going to hit you or something?" England snarled trying to put all the pieces together. In truth he did want to hit Alfred.
"No, it's not that. I just – it's like," he stopped himself biting his lip again grazing over it with his front teeth before letting it go. "I don't want to, like, I just don't want to make you hate me."
Arthur blinked completely taken back. The obviously flustered and annoyed boy bellow him was glaring at a spot directly above his head focusing on anything but the weight above him. "Hate you?" Like a dam breaking England's anger began to dissipate until it was at a low simmer. "Wait – you mean I didn't do anything?"
"No." That word seemed to take all the effort Alfred had to release it.
"So it was something you did?" Arthur asked trying to understand. Alfred remained silent tensing at this question. Sighing, albeit in relief, Arthur shut his eyes. "I don't know what you did but I doubt it's something I could hate you over."
America's leg shifted to get comfortable and he swallowed heavily. England loosened his hold on the other's regular brown jacket and could practically cut the thick air with a knife. "So?"
Alfred glanced back at him quickly. "So, what?"
"So what did you do?"
Alfred's mouth zipped up and defiance welled in his eyes making England want to smack him. Why would he go to that idiot France for advice on this over England? It made absolutely no sense. "I said I'm not going to hate you. You can tell me."
America shook his head desperately. "No, I can't…"
"America, I'm not leaving until you," England continued before Alfred's hand closed over his surprising him. He glanced down before looking at the American curiously. He looked like he was being torn apart from the inside.
"I," he stopped almost afraid of what he was going to say before taking a large breath almost as if it would gather all the courage he possessed. "I can't tell you but…I can show you."
England blinked confused. Why would he prefer showing him over telling him? Perhaps he had been wounded again? England's heart began to echo in his ears again against his will recalling what had happened in New York not that long ago. No, something that big would have been on the news. "Alright," England agreed not sure what America was getting at but willing to go along with it to ease his own curiosity.
Slowly America shifted below him and focused his eyes on England's hand. "If you," he said pausing trying to solidify his resolve. England tried his hardest to pay attention to America's words but the heat resonating off of his face was a bit distracting in and of itself. "Are you listening?" America asked with a nervous laugh. England snapped out of his own cluttered thoughts and nodded absentmindedly. Alfred gave a crooked half smile and gripped one of his hands. "If you really want to know just do what I say until you see enough to know. Okay?"
England nodded slowly.
Giving a weary breath Alfred peeled his other hand away from his collar and gripped the back of it firmly. "Alright. I hope you were telling the truth about not hating me."
Arthur was about to protest before the hands had a firm grip on the back of his own, thumbs brushing lightly on his palms. Alfred led the hands and pressed them slightly against the sides of his neck making Arthur balk at the warmth under his fingers. His eyes grew fairly large and glanced at Alfred's face in confusion only to see his eyes closed and brows drawn together in, what seemed like, concentration.
Alfred carefully kept his grip firm and guided Arthur's hands slowly and lightly over his neck and up where his jaw formed. The American gave a sudden intake of breath when fingers were guided to frame his lower face and tickle at the edge of his hair. Arthur felt his chest tighten at the sight. Holy shit. Holy shit.
Alfred looked as if he were about to open his eyes but willed them to stay closed; maybe out of fear of Arthur's reaction or fear of his own, he didn't know. The warm, albeit a little calloused, palms were guided up the sides of his face and grazed the bottom of his ear. He sighed quietly. "Mmm."
The sound sent something jumbling like an out of control trolley through the Englishman sending jolts through his skin down to his toes nearly making them curl. Arthur hadn't noticed until his thumb was guided to the lower corner of Alfred's lip that his chest was rising in quicker intervals than usual. Was it because he was nervous? What was Alfred doing?!
Cautiously Alfred opened his eyes carefully and looked at the man inches in front of him head on. His breathing was small shudders warming Arthur's cheeks whether he wanted it to or not. Arthur couldn't seem to form words as the face before him made all of his avoidances clear. The soft tint of pink on Alfred's cheeks, light quickened breaths, foggy hue glossing over his blue eyes; it was all clear nearly smashing Arthur's world at the seams.
Alfred…Alfred liked him.
The thought alone made Arthur's throat close around itself. Their positions now were perfectly clear as Alfred let him into his world. No wonder Alfred had tried to escape out his window. Alfred's eyes searched Arthurs and he looked uneasy knowing the Brit got his point. "Don't be mad," he said in a rare bout of vulnerability that Arthur didn't know he possessed. The hands were lead back down to his neck and brushed over his Adams apple making him shudder and, by default, Arthur shudder.
"I'm not mad," Arthur said furrowing his brow while his eyes followed the way his fingers dipped down nearly to Alfred's collar bone and being led back up.
"Do – do you hate me?" The ministrations stopped and both eyes met each other, the room suddenly going tense. Arthur could see the unease rippling through Alfred's eyes and could only think to do one thing. Scoff.
"This was what all of that panic was about? You really are immature," England said with as much composure as he could muster. At the gruffness of his tone Alfred blinked in surprise.
"W – huh?"
Settling his weight down awkwardly Arthur wriggled one hand out of Alfred's grasp and pinched his cheek hard. Alfred winced and glared confused. "What was that for?!"
"For making me go through all this trouble for you because you figured out you like me." Despite the annoyance seeping England's tone America couldn't help but go three shades darker hearing it from his own lips.
"It's not my fault. I never asked you to do anything about it. It's no big deal," he tried to deny glaring behind his glasses. He jumped and his eyes shot open when he felt voluntary movement under the hand he was holding. Arthur's own glower didn't phase one bit as his hand moved in a quick movement to the back of Alfred's head and gripped his hair. His breath hitched and his blue eyes shot surprised to the older man above him.
"You can't say it's no big deal you stupid bloke. You tried to avoid me for months. It's a big enough deal that when I do this," he stopped, ignoring the own hammering of his heart, to dip his other hand slightly in Alfred's shirt and slid it across the tendons in his neck all the way to his shoulder. Alfred sputtered blowing out a particular shaky breath and leaned his head back unconsciously. "You melt like putty. Normal people wouldn't care."
Alfred grit his teeth as Arthur shuffled rubbing against him causing a shudder to travel down his spine. He attempted to glare at the smug Brit staring down at him, his face proving the others point perfectly. "You don't have to mock me."
"I'm not mocking you," England denied and couldn't help but feel empowered at that moment. He had Alfred under his thumb and he knew it. This boy was so simple it was almost painful. "I'm just proving my point. You're immature and inexperienced in life, among other things."
Hating the warmth pooling in his lower body Alfred shot his hand out and grabbed Arthur's neck mimicking the same motion he had just done to Alfred. Shocked, England jumped and nearly arched his back. Eyes wide he glared disbelieving at the haughty American below him. "Who's immature and inexperienced? You're just the same," he countered, his words sounding bitter to the Brit's ears.
Fuming Arthur moved to get off when Alfred's arms snaked around his abdomen forcing Arthur to place his full weight on his hips which rubbed against Alfred's. He hissed pushing against Alfred's shoulders in protest. "What do you think you're doing?"
Alfred inhaled a few times before resting his head against Arthur's shoulder. England noted how his blonde hair tickled at his chin softly. "You know now," America said keeping his voice steady. "And with the way I acted to something so simple it's obvious. But," his lips grazed England's neck as he talked making the older nation bite his lip. "You acted the same. Is it safe for me to assume you like me too?"
England blanched and felt heat crawling up his neck. This room seemed too hot all of the sudden. "O-of course not," he said in defiance. America was silent a moment and for a second England thought he'd hurt the boy's feelings until he felt something warm and wet against the bottom of his neck. His muscles clenched and he sat up straight trying to ignore the heat filling his abdomen. America dragged his tongue up before closing his lips and scraping his teeth down while breathing warmth to the surrounding skin.
"Nnn – f-fuck. What are you doing?!" he attempted to growl but it came out sounding suspiciously like a groan. He writhed in Alfred's grasp trying to get away from the young nation desperately but jerked when Alfred hummed against his skin, dragging his nails against his hip that he managed to snake his hand on.
"I think you're not being honest," America muttered hopefully smiling against his neck with a toothy smirk.
"Absurd," England breathed between strained lips trying to remove the hands that had snared him like a fly in a spider web.
"Really?" Alfred sighed blissfully when Arthur made another attempt to get up but only ended up rocking against him. "So it won't matter if I do this?" He proceeded to roll his hips upwards and relished as a muffled moan released itself from England. Alfred's eyes widened not expecting that big of a reaction. Curiously he did it again and felt England's fingers grip at his shirt resting on his shoulders.
England looked down at him slowly his eyes fogging over something trying to take over and overpower his anger. He managed a weak glare breathing heavily when Alfred expected him to yell at him or something. Instead England huffed and rocked back down twice as hard making Alfred's heart skip a beat and a strangled noise was ripped from his throat. He bent his head down thoroughly surprised; he'd never expected his next encounter with England would be a mutual dry humping session on his guest bed.
"Really," England replied whispering harshly in the blonde's ear. Alfred felt a firm hand slide around his back and slip in one of his back pockets. He glanced back up at Arthur puzzled before the hand pulled his hips forward grinding them with the one above.
"N-no fair," he gasped, hands dipping into the creases of the Englishman's hips. Arthur faltered before picking up the pace and shoving Alfred back on the bed impatiently. His mind was too clouded to think straight. "You can't exploi–ooh God!" he shuddered when a hand scraped down his abs to his bellybutton. "Someone's feelings l-like this," he finished trying to rock upward into the delightful heat that was currently making his head spin.
"You obviously have been avoiding me for too long if you think I wouldn't do that," England muttered concentrating on the growing problem at hand. He was shocked when Alfred grabbed his hips steadfastly and made him stop his motions. Hazy, sharp green eyes glanced down confused into the panting face of the boy under him. The sight of Alfred with droopy eyes and hair fluttering on the pillow bellow him made him wish he had a camera.
"Maybe that's where I got that from. I must've inherited it from you," he smirked wrapping a hand behind Arthur's neck and pulling him down in a breathless kiss. He moaned into Arthur's mouth upon contact as if Arthur's skin alone was enough to get him excited. Arthur shut his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of Alfred's moist lips sliding in and over his mouth. It was a desperate kiss that made Arthur wonder how long Alfred had kept this desire caged in his chest. By the desperate hands clinging to his neck and gripping at his hair he was thinking maybe too long.
"Wai –" Arthur tried to protest as Alfred's kiss started to get more carnal. He found it hard to merely breathe through his nose alone. His mouth was engulfed with another eager groan from the blonde below him that he felt not only with his mouth, but also vibrating under his chest.
"Arthur, please," he pleaded desperately starting up the motion of his hips yet again. He lightly guided his tongue along Arthur's lower lip before gently sucking and nipping at it. His need was very obvious against Arthur and he felt himself matching the man's below him. Arthur growled and pushed Alfred against the bed none too gently.
"Don't," he said between pants before going back in for another moist kiss. Sliding his hands under Alfred's shirt he made a mental note of all the spots that made him squirm underneath him. Pulling back a mere centimeter he gazed down at the clouded eyes staring up at him. "Don't say my name like that," he ordered with a quivering breath.
America looked as if he were about to ask why but ended up running his tongue over the trail of saliva left on his bottom lip. Nearly smirking he breathed again, "Arthur."
Something stirred deep within England's chest and he found himself becoming hypnotized by those honey coated words. He couldn't help it; his name sounded better coming from Alfred's lips like that. He began to unbutton America's shirt with haste, his mouth following suit. "Again?" Arthur mumbled against a sensitive spot on Alfred's chest. He panted and slid his hands over England's bottom cupping it underneath. England nearly arched his back but ended up biting down on Alfred.
"Shi – ah! W-what?" Alfred asked now stroking England's inner thighs. England finished and began loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt as well. Leaning over on all fours he pulled him back in for another heavy kiss.
"Say that again," he whispered into Alfred's mouth caressing his tongue against the others. He pulled back slightly enough to give Alfred enough air to breath. He considered this a moment before letting out a chuckle stealing a quick kiss.
"You're a dirty old man," he joked. Arthur glowered shooting a hand down and tightly gripping Alfred's crotch making him jump and gasp in surprise. Looking up in disbelief he sent his own glare at the smirk tugging at Arthur's own lips.
"What does that make you for liking it?" Not bothering to get an answer England began the task of removing the barrier obstructing his full enjoyment. With a jerk he managed to get the belt off America and throw it to the ground. Alfred's eyes widened when his pants were unbuttoned and being slid down. Everything started to become clear and sink in causing a cyclone of anxiety to swell in his gut.
"W-wait. Arthur, stop for a minute," he stumbled on his words when coming face to face with England's chest. He breathed quickly and glanced above him at the face of the man loosening his own pants.
"What are you going on about?" muttered the Brit too focused on heightening this feeling that seemed to take all his nerves hostage and go into overtime.
"Y-you're ah…You're – what're you doing?" he asked stupidly feeling nimble fingers begin to knead the underside of his vital regions. Arthur gave a humorless chuckle before leaning over him and breathing in the scent that resided in the crease of Alfred's shoulder.
"Mmm," he mumbled tasting the tanned skin below him and popping one of his fingers into his mouth. Coating the finger with saliva he reached down and slid a hand inside the red, white, and blue boxers America insisted on wearing. "If you don't know by now you can't complain when I call you stupid."
Alfred yelped when fingers met his backside and his chest began rising at a quicker pace. When the first finger began to gently wriggle its way between his cheeks he sputtered and pushed at England's shoulders.
"S-stop! I'm not –aaah! Mother fuchnnn…" he writhed beneath the older nation like putty in his hands. It felt weird and made him want to escape this feeling filling him. "I thought that y-you'd be the one in this – shit – position n-not me," he managed to explain protesting against England's other hand trying to push America's hips down onto his finger.
"Me?" Arthur asked incredulously and managed to slip his finger inside Alfred causing the boy to arch his back unwillingly. "I'm not going to let you stick it to me. You're the one with the huge crush on me," he said gently moving his finger, stopping to bend it causing an unintentional buck of the hips from Alfred.
Alfred bit his lip and still protested pushing against the nation hovering above him. "Shut up. T-that should be more r-reason to let me do i-it to you," he gasped and gripped at Arthur's opened shirt.
"Maybe next time," Arthur said slipping another finger in. Alfred groaned pushing against the force holding his hips down on the fingers. "If I let you, that is," Arthur mumbled under his breath loving how Alfred's voice was music to his ears.
"N-next time?" Alfred gasped and leaned his head back exposing his throat. Arthur took the opportunity to nip at the sensitive skin causing Alfred to slide a hand up the Englishman's side. Arthur wanted to laugh at the hope lingering in his strained voice.
"Why not," he said removing his hand when he felt he was ready. With that he tugged at the boxers below him until they were no longer in the way. Alfred's face with ten shades redder when Arthur's came down just as fast. Arthur rubbed his hand over Alfred's erection coating the tips of his fingers with his own juices. Alfred shuddered shutting his eyes and placing a hand on Arthur's hip.
Rubbing it on America's opening England breathed over his face calmly. "Relax. It will go more smoothly if you relax." Alfred glared when he felt like he was being talked to like a child but shut his mouth with wide eyes feeling something very hard and very warm over an area he never even thought about touching. England looked back up and gave a small, breathy smile. "You should see your face. You look so nervous."
Alfred was about to growl and retort when that certain something started easing its way inside. His breath caught in his throat and his back started arching. Arthur was sure to keep Alfred's hips down when he tried to get away from the larger object. His insides burned at the edges and he felt an odd sense of something filling him, warming him, hurting him. He couldn't help it as he cried out when England had made it all the way inside shuddering.
It felt so…weird. Alfred managed to try and keep his breathing even like when he jogged in the morning. Yes, he jogged in the morning. His heart pounded in his ears and the outter edges of his vision blurred white. Oh God, this feeling. It was so foreign and yet he wasn't sure if he should like it or not. When England shifted he knew he liked it. There was something at the very tip of England that he was hitting that sent a ball of warmth to his crotch and made his toes and fingers curl.
"Fuck," he moaned unable to help himself and wrap his arms around England's back. He buried his face in the crook of the older nation's neck not wanting to be seen like this. America didn't blush. America didn't whimper. And America certainly didn't look so desperate and helpless and needy. Arthur bit his lip and curiously rocked forward. It sent shivers up and down and back up his spine again. God, it felt so good. And judging from Alfred's hips jerking he felt it too.
Slowly he began to build a pace sliding in and out, fingers gripping at the sheets bellow him. England's breathing picked up along with America's below him who began to respond to these strange, new ministrations. Pretty soon it was hard to hold back and not slam his full force into the young American. The room seemed to warm and the air seemed to thick when the pressure began to build.
"I can't take this," Alfred groaned arching his back and panting. Arthur merely shut his eyes tightly and began to move faster, his touches getting more desperate. Reaching down he began to move his hand against Alfred which made the boy shudder and fill the air with his voice, it bouncing off the walls and reaching Arthur's ears, almost like encouragements. A few more thrusts and strokes and they were both sent to cloud nine on an all expense paid trip to pleasure.
Arthur's vision blurred and he staggered nearly falling on top of Alfred; he caught himself luckily and landed on his elbows. Alfred bit down on Arthur's shoulder at the feeling of something smooth and warm being released deep inside him. Breathing seemed impossible and his toes curled against the bed when he came teetering over the edge.
Both lay trying to come back breathing like they had just run a marathon. America kept his eyes shut till he was sure he could see without spots interfering. What he saw made him sigh against the nation above him. England had his head down, face frame with hair sticking to beads of sweat dribbling down his cheeks, his cheeks shaded pink and lips swollen. He breathed out through his nose and leaned his head back calmly against the pillow.
"I don't think I'll be able to walk tomorrow," he mumbled staring at the ceiling. England scoffed and slowly pulled out of him rolling over.
"I thought you said you were invincible," he muttered and shoved his face into the pillow next to him thoroughly exhausted.
"I did say that, didn't I?" America said absentmindedly.
The two remained silent just trying to take it all in when England turned his head to look at America blankly.
"Avoiding me did more good than bad, didn't it?"
America slowly started to smirk. "All part of my plan," he bluffed laughing.
***
A/N: Totally stupid and wrapped up ending. But hey, it's eleven o' clock and I have school tomorrow.
Just in case it wasn't clear – and I believe I didn't make it clear enough – America called France because he's known at the "country of love" or something like that, so who better to get advice from? And he talked to Canada because they're brother's and he's just a hop, skip, and a jump away.