|Meant To Be
Author: ArixaBell PM
De-anon from the kink meme. England really wants to know about America's relationship with Canada. He probably shouldn't have brought that up... Various FACE pairings. Warnings inside.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance - America & Canada - Chapters: 2 - Words: 4,193 - Reviews: 37 - Favs: 177 - Follows: 17 - Published: 10-15-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6401257
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I wrote sex! -blushes and hides-
Disclaimer: Hetalia's not mine.
The bedroom was silent and still, save for the voices that grew ever closer from the hallway.
"Come on, it'll be romantic."
"I'm not a girl!"
"I know, but I've still always wanted to do it."
Sound of shuffling, movement, a grunt.
"You're heavier than I remember."
"You can pick up cars and I'm heavy?"
"Nooo, I didn't mean you were heavy for me, just..."
And then America walked in, Canada carried in his arms. And he turned a little too quickly and smacked his brother's head into the doorframe.
"Ow!" they both said with winces. America sheepishly let his brother down.
"Well, uh..." Rubbing his head, America looked at Canada. Now that they were in the bedroom, he was feeling a little nervous and self-conscious. They had done this before, but it had been a very long time. They had spent many, many years telling themselves they couldn't be lovers again, only bestest bros. That would take some getting used to.
But then Canada—looking a little shy himself—started to unbutton his shirt, illuminated by the cool moonlight that filtered in between the curtains, and America's heart ached. And then that was quickly overshadowed by embarrassment that Canada had felt him feeling something so sappy, and they both blushed.
"We'll get used to it," Canada said, finally shucking his shirt.
America swallowed. "Is it weird to think my twin brother is the most beautiful creature in the world?"
A smile tugged at Canada's lips. "Everyone already thinks you have a huge ego. But you're wrong, my twin brother is."
"That's probably something that might end in a tie..."
"Why am I the only one undressing?" Canada ran a hand over his own chest, caressing a nipple, and America gasped at the sensation.
"I could use some help."
Canada didn't need to be told twice. Unfortunately, pulling a t-shirt off over someone's head wasn't nearly as erotic as removing a buttoned shirt like Canada had been wearing. Especially when one's head got stuck, then one's glasses got caught and ended up somewhere on the floor.
"I'll find them in the morning, I suppose," America said, groping around on hands and knees. He could see fine without them, but had no idea where they had gone to.
"With your foot, probably," Canada said, dropping down to help him. "Oh, they're here." Rather than return them, though, he set them on the nightstand, along with his own.
"Thanks, bro." America grinned. "Those would be a bitch to replace. Even worse if every flag in the country needed one star removed..."
"And people say you don't think about consequences," Canada teased, scooting closer. They quickly embraced, holding each other close. America brought their lips together, while Canada started working on pants. He proved his French heritage when he rather quickly divested them both of pants and underwear without any difficulty, without even having to look or break the kiss. But then they pressed closer together, now-naked erections brushing lightly against one another, and they parted with a gasp.
"It's been a long time since we've seen each other totally naked," America said, panting lightly, still looking into his brother's eyes.
"We see it whenever we look in the mirror." Canada chuckled.
"It's still not the same. Count of three?"
"One... two... three!"
They both looked down.
"Awesome." America grinned. "Oh. You're still a teensy bit bigger."
"Obviously. I'm still second biggest, you're still a close third."
"It's true about Russia, you know."
"Don't have to tell me."
"Oh, right." America trailed his fingers down Canada's chest and stomach, giving them both a shiver. "But yours is best. It's perfect for me." He gently pushed his brother back toward the bed until he sat, then knelt between his already trembling legs. He caressed along the inside of one thigh, biting his lip at the ghostly fingers that brushed against his own. He leaned down and licked the same spot, nipped at his hip bone. It did make driving Canada crazy easy. All he had to do was drive himself crazy, and he knew he was succeeding. They did have the same kinks, turn-ons, erogenous zones, and everything, after all.
"C-come on..." Canada groaned. When America looked up with a smirk, he groaned again. "You can't tease me without teasing yourself."
"Oh, I know you like foreplay as much as I do." But America took pity on him—them—and gave his aching cock one long lick, like a popsicle. Feeling the tongue running up his own length, America whined.
"S-see?" Canada gasped. "You're only making yourself suffer."
"Shush." America covered his teeth with his lips—with Canada he would be extra extra careful about where his teeth were—and swallowed his brother down. Canada arched back with a loud gasp, and America clenched his fists and moaned softly. He drew back, lapping at the head and flicking the slit, eliciting cries from them both and he couldn't even tell which voice was whose. Then he took Canada entirely in again, swallowing around him, and the part of his brain that remained coherent noted that he was much better at giving head than he had been the last time they had done this.
"S-stop," Canada gasped, sheets twined between his fists. "Oh god, stop, or I'll-"
Indeed, they were close already. He wasn't sure if it was from their perpetually teenaged bodies, or just because they hadn't been together in so long. Whatever the reason, America pulled away. A normal couple probably would have been fine with an orgasm from oral sex. Then the other partner would take the one who had come, and by the time they were done, maybe the first one would be ready to go again... But they weren't a normal couple, and one orgasm would probably finish them for the night. It was a good case for quality over quantity.
Canada helped America up, onto the bed beside him. "I need..."
"I know." America leaned in for a kiss, allowed himself to be pushed back by the shoulders. "Me, too."
Canada lying atop him—oh, how right that felt. Did any other nation who slept with their geographic neighbor have that same feeling of perfection, or was it just them? America suddenly found himself curious if the Italy brothers had ever... well, there was a time and a place for wondering about that. It wasn't now, when Canada had already coated his fingers from a conveniently located tube and his fingers were heading for—ah!
America arched back as the slippery digit worked into him. He smiled up at his brother, at the way his lip was caught between his teeth as he experienced it as well. Almost as soon as he started working the finger around, he brushed against that spot that had them both moaning. Other lovers had to look for it. They knew right where to go.
Canada didn't waste much time in preparation. Another finger, stretch, another, done. Hell, America probably didn't need much preparation. He was made for Canada. He drew his legs back a little further, whimpering as his brother coated himself in lubricant.
"Ready?" Canada whispered.
"You tell me."
Canada positioned himself, leaning forward just until the head was teasing America's entrance.
"Oh, come on," America said with a gasp. "Now who's the tease?"
"I like this part," Canada said. "The anticipation..."
"I do too, but..."
"I know." With one swift movement, Canada was completely inside him, and they cried out.
There it was. That feeling of completeness America had never felt with another lover. Like a part of himself had been restored he hadn't realized was missing. It was... it was indescribable. America tugged his brother's face down for a kiss. He could feel his own tight heat enveloping his cock, and couldn't help but wonder what it was like from Canada's end—essentially fucking himself. America mentally added 'defy geography and top next time' to his to-do list.
Canada lay still, simply kissing his brother. America didn't mind at all. It was a perfect sort of moment, enjoying the feeling of being together. With anyone else he'd have probably been telling them to move already. But it was enough to enjoy Canada on him, in him.
"Okay?" Canada said against America's lips.
All it took was a couple tentative thrusts for America to thrash his head to the side with another loud cry, toes curling. He wrapped his legs around his brother to draw him closer, chewing on his lip to stifle the noise.
"L-let me hear you," Canada said breathlessly. As if to demonstrate, he moaned. He rocked into America a little harder, and they both yelled out.
"Better." Canada settled into a steady rhythm, moving his mouth to suckle on America's neck, marking him.
"Y-you know..." America gasped.
"Last time we d-did thi-iis, I didn't have Alaska." He twisted the sheets in his hands. "I wonder if that's cha-aaange—ahh!—changed anything."
"O-only you would wonder that n-now," Canada said with a breathless chuckle.
America grinned up at him, before he was again lost in incoherent noises, in an avalanche of sensation. It was like being the middle person in a threesome. Which he knew from personal experience was pretty intense, but still nothing compared to this.
Canada sped up his pace, as much as his shaking body would allow, thrusting harder into his twin. America whimpered and clenched around him, groaning as he felt that squeeze on himself.
"N-not... much longer..." Canada managed to get out between clenched teeth.
A few more thrusts pushed them over the edge, again in unison. Both orgasms hit them at once, overwhelming all their senses, and they screamed, vision going white. It felt like it went on forever, limbs shaking uncontrollably, heads thrown back, throats raw. And then, the white faded from their vision, replaced with blackness.
America had no idea how long he had been out, but his eyes snapped open at the same time as Canada's. His brother was sprawled atop him, at some point having withdrawn, and America was suddenly struck by how empty and kind of lonely he felt without him inside anymore.
"I..." Canada tried, voice hoarse and weak. He quickly gave up and flopped his head onto America's chest.
America didn't even bother trying to speak or move. Somebody had replaced his bones with pieces of rubber. Very heavy rubber. However long he had been unconscious, he could still feel the aftereffects of the orgasm washing over him, and he probably still would be in the morning.
It probably took a half hour for Canada to be able to muster the strength to push himself to the side, cradling against his brother. "Well..."
"That was awesome," America said. Now there was an understatement.
"How do you think they're doing?"
"Eh?" Canada flung an arm over America's middle. "Are you thinking about other people? I didn't do you hard enough."
America laughed weakly. "What can I say? I love them, I'm worried. I single-handedly broke both their hearts, then ran off to have literally mind-blowing sex with you."
"Oh, them them."
"Yeah. How did France take it?"
"I told you how France took it."
"Not the... losing you. The other part." America sighed, snuggling closer (if that were possible). "England was actually not as upset as one would expect, finding out he could never be the best I'd ever had. But France would take a blow to the sexual ego harder, huh?"
"Oh, that." Canada giggled. "Yeah, that did bother him. But I'm sure he's making up for it now."
"Well, think about it. Everyone knows about their angry sex."
"Everyone who was in the same city as them last time they were together knows about the angry sex."
"Right. And now France also feels he has something to prove."
"Ohh." America grinned. "Then yeah. They're probably doing all right."
"Five bucks says England's still walking funny next time we see him."
"Five of my dollars or yours?"
"Like it even matters anymore."
"Five more bucks says France is walking funny, too." America nuzzled Canada's neck. "We can't let them win. Let's go again."
"Do you want to kill us?"
"Fine." Canada rolled away from America, onto his back. "If you can get up here and do me, you're welcome to."
"Uh..." America tugged him back into his arms. "Morning sex. We'll show them who's hotter with morning sex."
"Love you," America whispered, punctuating it with a kiss.
"Love you, too."
The exhausted pair closed their eyes, and they drifted off to sleep at the same time, perfectly content to stay in each others' arms forever.