Please dont be insulted to any reference in this one shot. Thank you.

Dedicated to Kaya's window, for she encourage me to make another lemon.

Enjoy!

America looked at himself on the mirror. He smiled to his own mirage. The hero is always handsome and awesome. The best haircut, the Hollywood suit, and the Manhattan-California glasses. All made in China, but of course, they are from America!

He made sure he looked perfect before grabbing his car keys. He was in no hurry, of course because the hero never late! It's just the clock was too fast! And so, he enjoyed his ride to the hotel in the middle of New York City, where the meeting would be held as usual. The special meeting, not the UN meeting, and only two people are invited.

He sat on the bed, waiting. It was unusual for his meeting partner to come late. Usually he would be there earlier than him, and he would pout because America was late. But all in all, the anger never stayed long and then they would have some 'thoroughly enjoyable exercise' and then America would woo the smaller (by size) nation to help him with 'donations'. And usually their meeting would end up on some million dollars added up onto America's national pocket.

A very good meeting, indeed.

America looked down from the hotel's window to see how the lights and noises made the city lived through the night. There was a time long time ago when everything was silent and night was the dangerous enemy due to natural threats, but throughout the years America has grown into a very powerful, formidable, lovely lively city. Now people didn't hesitate to come out at night, though the threat has changed from a pack of wolves to a pack or rapist. Yet people swarmed throughout the roads and streets, cabs and cars moving like sparkling ants in the heart of New York. America admired himself. He was the America, the most powerful nation in the current world. He had gained his own independent from England and clearly, independency suited him very well.

Suddenly the hotel room's door was open. Abruptly. Roughly.

"Let's fuck, aru."

"Ah, Yao, so charming as usual~" America smiled and helped the shorter nation opened his jacket. "How are you today?"

"We just met in the morning UN meeting. Do we need to chat now, aru? I am not aware of that in the agreement. Fuck me, aru."

America cringed, but he needed to remind himself that he needed the fund injection. His national treasury was deficit, as usual, though he would rather die than admit that he almost gone bankrupt. China was the only solution, the only one whom agreed to help him with 'injections with very little interest'. The smaller Asian nation only proposed one provision: America needs to fuck him for every million China gave.

China carelessly opened his shirt; the western suits he wore just because it was simply easier to enter America's immigration with a western suit compare to his usual red Chinese robe. America noticed how China grumbled every time he needed to take off the shirt, saying that it was too hard, too complicated, too many layers to take off. America never put forward his thought on how Asian robes are more complicated to wear and kept it to himself, because the China in their private meetings was always moody.

America watched as the body in front of him unveil itself. It was still a wonder for him. Why is that the Asian have the body of seventeen years old when he was, in fact, 400 years old and counting? All Asians looked the same to him, and all of them looked really youthful, or at least younger than their actual age. He watched as China put off his pants and stood naked in front of him.

America surrendered himself when China roughly pulled his necktie, and their lips met. It wasn't a real kiss, because China never opened his eyes once they touched each other. Nevertheless, their tongues met, and surprisingly, China was a good kisser. Maybe that's what 4000 years of experience brought you. The person who told the world that Asian are lousy and shy kissers deserved to be jailed for spreading false information. America himself enjoyed the kiss. China's tongue was sweet, as if he just gobbled on honey. China's scent and taste was another matter altogether. Somehow sometime America could guess the Asian had eaten something vaguely garlic-tasted, but most of the time it tasted quite good. Addictive, for sure. And the Asian man wasn't afraid to letting America's tongue to explore his mouth cavity. Their endearment continued hotly, America's unconscious hands found its way around the smaller man's body. It took him a while to get over his homo-phobia era, but once he was ok with it, same gender relationship wasn't bad at all. After the hippy period where he was free to enjoy the journeys through new concepts and beliefs, America started to realize that a man can be as good as a woman in bed. Well, as long as he got the part of being the 'man', of course. He wouldn't let people touch his backdoor, let alone sacrificing his backdoor virginity.

His hand caressed the really smooth skin. China's body was so androgynous. It's like a woman and a man in one package. America wondered why his secretary thought that the deal was so bad. He could fuck a very pretty body, he got the money afterwards, all in all everything was so easy! It's not like fucking was hard—it's just a form of exercise, and better yet, they could help each other reaching the instant paradise (talked about instant, everything was instant in America that people have no time to stop and wondered where the KF* chicken come from).

Something took off his mind from the thoughts. America could feel something was poking him behind his legs. He smiled, realizing that China was more than ready.

"My my, so eager today, Yao."

"Shut up, aru."

America liked instant stuffs, so he always took the instant way to reach the instant paradise. His hand grabbed the eager member of China's, and firmly shook it up—China held his breath—and down—China breath came fast and sharp on his shoulder. America smiled. After so many meetings, he already learnt the way China liked it—hard, cold and straight to the point. His fingers rubbed the tip, while his other hand busy fondling the balls underneath the stalk. China moaned, teeth biting America's skin, eliciting bearable pain on America's shoulder.

"Would you like to come first, Yao?"

China silently nodded, his eyes still closed. Unhappy yet don't really care about the silent, America continued to move his hand up—China bit his shoulder deeper—and down—China let go of his teeth. America waited, knowing that although he wanted to take care of his own need, the main highlight for that night was China. So everything should be done according to China's need. After finished fondling China's ball (cute, not so big, but not too small either), America guided his hand to China's mouth.

"Suck it, Yao. I need it wet."

China sucked the fingers on top of his lips, two at a time, enveloping the fingers with warmth and wetness. America shoved his fingers deeper before pulling it out, and without hesitation, plunged it into China's butt cheeks while still diligently pumping China's erection.

"Ah!"

Was the sound when America plunged one of his fingers into China's back hole. It was tight, God, always tight; and America could feel the sphincter around his finger moved—massaging his finger. He got himself aroused from imagining the luscious feeling of when his own member trapped inside that hole. Hmm… Nice. Of course his finger was nowhere as good, as big, as his own dick, so he inserted another one.

"Ahn!"

Was the answer. America smiled, licking the Asian's earlobes. China flinched, surrendering his whole body completely on America's touch, eyes closed. The smaller-build nation stumbled, unable to stand anymore. America gently pushed the body to the bed, and China could feel the softness of 500 count Egyptian cotton threads on his back. His mind was abruptly called back into his sexual organ when America put back the finger, plugging his asshole; and this time dig deeper and up. Up, and left. The special switch that never failed to make China reached his heaven.

"Almost! Hnnn…! Keep pushing that part, aru!"

America smirked. See?

"You are so good, aru! Hnnn! Ah… Arthu…Fuck*! ARU!"

America stopped smiling. Somehow, suddenly, it wasn't so amusing anymore.

Even until the climax, the Asian refused to open his eyes. And America just realized who was actually (always) playing behind those closed eyelids.

"Hnn!" China held his moan, and his body jerked. Whitish semi-liquid came from his member, and without opening his eyes, he turned to face the bed. The Asian held his ass up, offering a set of perfect milky ass, wet and ready for anything to enter.

"Enter me, aru. I want you inside me."

America couldn't deny that it was indeed very sexy. The ass in front of him was very inviting, wriggling and wet, contracting, showing pink flesh, ripened with the sweat and saliva. Yet, a question haunted him. Who? Him, or… Arthur?

"…Quick, aru."

America realized that his movement has stopped. So he pretended nothing happened and opened his pants. His clothes were definitely ruined and dishevelled, and due to the fact that he still had his shirts on making it more clear that he was dominating the smaller nation. Yet why he felt like he was defeated by something he couldn't even phantom?

"… Alfred?"

America held his breath and smiled. "Sorry, Yao, mine is still rather limp. Wet it with your mouth?"

China stopped showing his back and ass to America, turning to see the Americans proud stalk was indeed, rather limp. His eyes were opened for the first time since they fucked, America noted. China sighed, closing his eyes again, and the working on the limp member of America's.

"Fine, aru. Just this once."

America knew it was just bullshit. China always reminded him that it was the last time, but every time they had meeting, China never fails to give him a blowjob. And he was excellent—no, perfect at that. Like a Harvard-for-fucking's valedictorian level kinda sense. America held his breath as China's soft lips enveloped his member. Nice and slow today, eh?

China put the whole length easily; gently massaging the stalk, careful not playing with the tip yet; slowly and nicely, sucking. America's breaths hiked. His body shook with pleasure. The Asian's tongue started to play with the tip, and America shook. The Asian's hot breath on his lower abdomen's skin was not helping either. Wet. He felt wet.

"You are hard, aru. Now, enter me. I need you rammed deep inside me… Arth..aru."

Upon hearing the slip of the tongue, America stopped experiencing the nice sensation of anticipation of the climax and swallowed hard. He watched as the Asian beauty turned back again, only giving him his back and his ass. His body. But not the mind.

Who was he to care? His mind talked some sense into America. He was the one who said that the fucking-donating ordeal thing was the easy way to get money. But now he understood why his secretary said it was a bad thing. He was a gigolo. He just realized that it has been the second time China slipped the name of the imaginary person China longed to fuck, the one whom America was substituting. But a deal is a deal, and he had no right to complain.

So he entered the man. China's muscles welcomed his entrance by contracting and elicited nice, very very nice sensation for both the fucked and the fucker. Moans heard through the air and China was choked by his own saliva. He coughed hard, shaking America with him, due to their current connection.

"Are you OK, Yao?"

China nodded, and wriggled his ass, signing for America to continue. America smiled bitterly. Even his effort to care was completely and immediately rejected by the Asian. Suddenly America felt like naked. He felt completely exposed, despite his stays on clothes, and bare to the coldness radiating from the Asian county. They were in the middle of a heated session, yet it was emotionally freezing.

He didn't understand why he felt like crying, so America bent over, completely covering China's body with his, dominating him till the end. He could feel his member entering, deeper and deeper, till the deepest point where they couldn't be more connected. His pelvis was glued to China's ass and he was ball deep into the man. Till the point, up and left. Then he rocked hard. Like how China likes it.

"Ahn! Ah! … Harder, aru! Harder!"

While channelling his grimace to China's skin by biting his shoulder, America couldn't help but wonder whether England was a sadist.

"Ha…AH! Oh …. HnN!"

His body moved by itself, naturally. He is a man, and he knew how to move his hips till his partners called their Gods. Rocking fast and hard, moving his hip to obtain friction was his speciality. The feeling built and grew, both anticipating the instant heaven to come. The friction was everything—and in matter of seconds, China seemed like he couldn't content himself.

"I… Lo… AR…aru!"

His voice was muffled. China bit the 500 counts Egyptian cotton thread hard, enough to muffle the emotions came from honesty, which was one of the uncontrollable thing after climax. America grimaced, bit the Asian hard by the back of his neck, and released his own seeds inside the man. It was instant bodily heaven and emotional hell.

"… Moron. You forgot the condom again, aru."

"I am sorry." America bit his lips. Why should he say sorry when he felt like he was the one hurt from the activity? "… I'll see to it next time, Yao."

China waited until America pulled his dick out, and turned his body to get off the bed. Yet he was surprised when his hair was suddenly pulled, harsh and needy, just to realize that America's lips was on his the next second.

"Hnn…What! Stop it, aru!"

"… Kiss me, Yao."

"Hmph! No… Let me g… Hmpph… Alfred!"

"Kiss me while your eyes open, Yao."

"Alfred! Stop!"

"Why, Yao?" Suddenly America pulled the black hair hard and China's face moved away from his face. China opened his eyes and felt like awake for the first time, noticing tears on America's face. America wasn't shy to show his teary face, and showed even fiercer expression. "… Why you never opened your eyes for me?"

"…" China swallowed hard. He had opened his eyes and his imagination shattered, the harsh reality staring back at him in the form of angry tears. But he knew America deserved an honest answer, so China answered, "… because your eyes are not green, aru."

"…I will wait for the next money transfer." America let go of his hand over China's hair and moved away. He found his pant, nimbly put it on, and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

China was frozen on the bed, wondering what went wrong. He knew he accidentally almost slipped the name he longed so much, but it wasn't America's problem. In fact, America shouldn't be angry, because everything was none of his business. They were there to have 'meetings'—as America called it—and it always been casual and not emotional like that at all.

True, he chose the American because he was the closest to England in many sense—cousin, blonde, Caucasian. But the eyes weren't as green as he wanted and when China saw the blue eyes piercing him throughout their first agreement, China knew he was fooling himself. So he shut his eyes, to deceive reality.

Maybe it was because the day's happening that made him carelessly calling out England's name. Maybe it was because he caught England's eyes on him in the world meeting that morning. Maybe it was because he saw how England blushed when France ridiculed him. Maybe it was because the guilty look England shot at him when he saw England and France kissing behind the potted plant on the corner of the room.

He was careless and he was judged. Why should he fell for a jerk that destroyed his magnificent wall with opium? It was stupid, stupid and stupid of him to actually think that England ever like him.

Stupid.

China felt his tears melted and dissolved to the 500 counts Egyptian cotton thread.

Stupid.

And now he brought America into his misery.

Stupid.

"… Sorry, aru. Please forgive me."

But of course, he didn't get any answer from the empty room.

*said in Chinese.

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