England yawned as he made his way to the bedroom, a soft swooshing sound following him as the hem of his forest green PJ bottoms drug the ground just slightly (It was so hard to find pants the right length, for some reason.) It had been a long day, and he was ready to just sit back and relax in his room for a while, maybe read a good book or simply daydream until he felt like sleeping. He yawned, running his fingers through his hair before noticing that his door was shut and, tilting his head, the knowledge that he had left it open when running off to the restroom fresh in his mind, he reached for the handle, turning the knob and pushing his door open with a soft "creak". There, on his bed, was America layed out, not on the bedsheets no, but on his own flag- the old one that they found in the attic. England blinked, slowly shutting the door behind him and closing in on the relaxed American, hesitating slightly when the other blonde glanced up at him. When said blonde smiled, however, England continued, stopping only when he was at the edge of the bed.
"America..." he began, glancing a bit nervously at the flag. "...what is this..?"
The American shrugged.
"Well, it's my first night here after the flight. You didn't expect me to just go to bed without having 'welcome' sex, did you?"
England's frown made America laugh loudly, but when England rolled his eyes, America's laughter turned into a gentle smile.
"Of course you would be after that. Honestly, sometimes I wonder if you're worse off than France."
America laughed again.
"Nah, no way am I worse than him. He screws everyone, I only want to screw you. I just like screwing you a lot. Besides, it's been months since we did anything like that, since I've been back in my own country and you've been here! I wanted to do it to distract you from all the sad stuff when we were looking through your attic, but in the end, I held myself back. I think I deserve a reward for my patience!"
The pout on America's face was absolutely adorable, England had to admit, and he allowed a slight smile to cross his own features until he realized that there was one little thing bothering him...
"So why do you have the flag..?"
"Hmm? Oh! Well, I wanted to give you at least one good memory for at least one of those things, and so I just kind of thought that we could maybe have sex on it, or something. I don't want you to be sad for even a second when thinking of my flag, even this version of it, so...yeah!"
And for a moment, England just stared at America, blinking, wondering if he heard the man correctly. There was a few moment's silence as this went on, England genuinely having no earthly idea what to say about it, but right around the fifteen second mark, America arched a brow and spoke.
"So? Come on, England, the most we did today was kiss, and we didn't even use tongue! I want to do something..."
"A...America..." the Brit finally managed, placing his head in his palm. "...not with the flag..."
America's following whine was hardly befitting of the superpowered nation...
"Because it's just...weird! You had that flag when you were still my colony, if I were to keep my mind on that fact when we were having sex, then that would put very strange images in my head!"
"But it's for cheering you up!"
"Wha-? Dese--? No it's not!"
"We're having sex on your flag. Of course--"
"We are? You give in then?"
The grin on the boy's face was almost enough to make England actually conisder doing just that...
"I was saying, that 'we're having sex on your flag. Of course it's desecration.' It's defiling one of your national symbols."
"But I don't even use this design anymore. Its not a national symbol, it's old!"
"It's a part of your history! It still represents you!"
"If it represents me, then does that mean that we'll be having sex on top of me..?"
Frowning, England kept silent, waiting until America replied with an "I was just kidding, geez!" before folding his arms.
"Don't you think it would be strange, besides, to do something like that? Especially to your own flag..?"
"I told you, I don't use it anymore! It's not really my flag now!"
England had opened his mouth to protest, but the only sound that came from his throat was a surprised shout as America reached up and grabbed him by the shirt collar, pulling him down onto the bed. Shit. He was serious, wasn't he..? Before England could think too hard on that matter, America had swapped their positions, placing the Briton beneath him, and already undoing the buttons on the silky night shirt.
"W-wait a moment!" cried England, quickly gripping America's wrists to still him. "Not so fast, we haven't even talked about this properly!"
"England, we've talked about it! It hasn't really been my flag since 1795 when I added stars for Vermont and Kentucky, it's outdated, it doesn't represent me anymore, and I want to give you a good memory to go with it, even if you don't want me to!"
"B-but, America, th-this...it...it's desecration!!!"
"But England, technically it was my flag, even if it's not really anymore, and can you really desecrate your own flag? Besides, I want to do this!"
Sighing in frustration, England couldn't help but glare slightly at the younger nation. He was completely missing the point, it was easy to see, but the boy continued to persist anyway, and he probably would until he got his way... Still, the Briton couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, this would be the one time where he would actually win... That tiny sliver of hope was enough to drive him on, and as America tried again to unbutton the night shirt, to finish what he started, England pushed at him, urging him to stop. There was a short struggle, but he allowed himself to look into America's pure blue eyes, and what he saw reflected in them made him pause. America looked...a little bit sad, maybe..? What could be wrong..? He didn't want to do this that badly, did he..?
"England..." he started, his voice slow and soft. "Please...let me do this."
There was hesitation, no doubt about that, but after a few seconds of apparent consideration, the English nation backed off, allowing the American to do as he pleased. A slight smile upturned on the sandy-blonde's face, and England swallowed. There was obviously some deeper meaning to this than America was letting on, but he apparently didn't feel like sharing at the moment...
And with only a single nod as his response, England subjected himself to the bespectacled nation, feeling the slight tickle of fingers against his skin as the buttons were finally finished off, the caress of the fabric as it was pulled gently off of his shoulders, the slightly rough hands sliding down and over his chest to feel him again, to get reaquainted with his body since he had been gone for so long. The gentle touches felt nice, relaxing even, and England let a sigh pass through his lips, this one much more content than the others he had released that day. America's touches could be considered almost sensual rather than passionate, and that suited England just fine. So his American lover was in a romantic kind of mood...who was he to complain..? He actually really liked the more romantic situations, as an in-the-closet romanticist, and he slid his eyes shut when America's hands went up to his cheeks, holding his face still as he leaned in, lips barely brushing against England's at first as if making sure it would be okay before pressing down more fully. America's lips moved against his own in soft circles, gentle but forceful, all at the same time, and England lifted his arms to go around his lover's neck, encouraging him to kiss harder. In turn, America easily slipped his tongue into the Briton's mouth, met with no resistance, and they began a playful battle, teasing each other with the way they would slide their tongues against the other, and then pull back, running away from their partner before attacking again. The soft smacking of their actions rang throughout the room in its silence, though neither of them paid any mind to it, and when they finally had to pull back for air, they didn't let themselves separate for long before going back for more.
England kept one arm situated in its arc around America's muscular neck while he slid his other hand down and over, rubbing it over the other male's bare shoulder and arm, as he had already been dressed for bed, and he only slept in a pair of sweatpants. He felt the muscle of the superpower's arm shift under his touch as he himself reached down to fondle the Briton's stomach, slowly moving down to pull slightly at the stretchy hem of the sleep pants that England wore, sliding his hand just barely inside to tease at the skin there without actually touching anything. England's breath hitched just the tiniest bit, and America took that as a cue to continue, breaking their kiss and sitting up, reaching down to pull off those deep green sleep pants and toss them off of the bed carelessly. Without waiting for England's response, he dove his head down, kissing the pale, smooth, slightly scarred skin of his Anglo lover's stomach, then lower, lower, until he reached the bellybutton, spending extra time there to press his tongue into the sensitive dip before moving on. He kissed around to the Brit's hip, then down his outter thigh until he decided to go back up, his lips teasing the skin of the inner thigh this time. England shivered slightly, curling his fingers just a bit into the- he swallowed- into the flag. What was he doing..? Was he really going to allow the American his little whim..?
"Hmph." said American chuckled. "You're not very hard...what's the matter? Not in the mood for it..?"
"Sh-shut up! It's not that, it's just...y-you haven't done anything to make me hard yet!"
"I know, relax, Iggy! I was just teasing... Geez!"
Without another word, America took a long lick up the Englishman's half-hard cock, drinking in the soft cry he heard as if it were expensive wine. He felt it twitch under his ministrations, and after feeling the Englishman shift, he took another lick, this time swirling his tongue around the head until the length was erect to his liking. He then began to take the organ into his mouth, swallowing as much as he could until he could taste the bitterness of the precum on the back of his toungue. It was a taste he never quite liked, but he didn't quite hate it either, and he wasn't going to stop giving England oral just because he didn't really like the bitterness...
England arched his back slightly, moaning his lover's name into the room, and when America hummed, sending sound waves vibrating into his cock, he shivered, clenching his fists even harder into the aged material of the old American flag. His mind had begun to lose focus, however, as the taller blonde began to bob his head, sending arousal pulsing through his veins, the lovelust clouding his normal senses, and he soon forgot that the flag was even there. America's lips and tongue moved over the Englishman's dick, pressing at the vein on the bottom and carefully avoiding using teeth, not wanting to risk hurting him. Bucking just the smallest bit having lost some of his willpower, England felt himself coming close, so close to climax, but America seemed to be able to sense that, and he pulled back, but not before taking just a single moment to suck softly at the head of the cock, not enough to hurt, but just to put pressure on it. England moaned, arching up to feel more, but it was too late, and America had already gone back up, kissing at his chest and collarbone, dragging his tongue along the sternum and nipping before shifting his attention to the right nipple. He circled the pert nub with his tongue, humming in aproval at the sounds that England made, and once the submissive moaned out the his name, he traded sides, giving the other nipple attention as well. England seemed to be taking the attention well, having apparently forgotten about the flag by now, and as America suckled and licked at the erect nub, he ground his hips into his lover's just once, moaning as he felt the body below his jerk forward in a wordless, aroused request. Finally pulling back, the bespectacled male licked his lips, reaching into the nightstand drawer to grab the lubricant that England always kept there, but when he glanced back at his prior caretaker, he questioned;
"Do you want me to use a condom or no..?"
"Nnh..? Oh. I-it doesn't matter..." England responded, slightly out of breath from the superpower's antics just seconds earlier. "Either way is fine."
Nodding, the American closed the drawer, quickly spreading some of the slick liquid onto his fingers, noticing the look of wanton desire mixed with love reflecting in the Briton's green eyes. They were so beautiful... Just a few hours before, they were showing sadness and pain, and only minutes before, they were revealing apprehention and concern, but now... America smiled. He always had loved the faces England would show during intercourse. They were so open and free of all of the stress and worry that naturally came with being a Nation, and America simply adored that England would show that side to him. It was nice knowing that he could take the Briton's concerns away, if even for only a short while, and that, coupled with the knowledge that England loved him more than anything else in the world...it made him happy. Leaning back over his Anglo lover, he placed their lips together before reaching down and urging his legs apart with his fingers, finding England's entrance and prodding at it before slipping in his ring finger up to the first knuckle. England grunted into the kiss, but the two men had done this so much by now that England didn't really need much preparation anymore, and America was soon adding his middle finger in with the first. That was when he was met with resistance, however, and when he felt England press their lips together tighter, whimpering just slightly, he pulled back, giving the man room to breathe. He went slower this time, pushing his fingers in more and then pulling them back out, slowly, slowly, until England was letting out quick puffs of air, not quite moans, but still quiet sounds of pleasure. He began to scissor his fingers, pressing them in deep, and as he shifted them down a bit, he was suddenly very aware of England's arms flying around his neck, pulling him close, the Englishman crying out in his ear. America shivered, licking his lips at the thought of what he'd just found, and as he pressed into it again, preparing to add his third finger, his lover arched up, gasping out a breathy "please".
It was music to the American nation's ears, and so he made haste in adding the last digit, slipping it in with little problem and moving it around, curling all three slightly to rub against the soft walls of England's entrance. The Briton's breath began to quicken again, though he somehow seemed calm as well, and as America observed these expressions, each one flitting away so swiftly that one would have to be paying attention to notice them all, he retrieved his fingers, reaching again for the lubricant. Huh. The bottle was nearly empty... They would need more soon... Spreading a little onto his cock, not wanting to use up too much of what little they had left, he allowed himself to sit back for a moment, examining England again. His body had a soft shine to it where the light was reflecting off of the beads of sweat that had accumulated on his skin, and his hair was even more toussled than usual... His eyes shown with love as well as desire, and his cheeks were brilliantly flushed, his mouth slightly agape so that he could intake enough air. He was truly beautiful, at least America thought, and he unconsciously muttered this as he moved back over to position himself.
"Th-thank you..." America thought he heard, but it was so quiet that he couldn't be certain, and as he reached over to clasp his hands with the Briton's, England's legs having been thrown over his shoulders, he pushed in, grunting softly until he was buried to the hilt. He sat still, giving his British lover time to adjust, but soon he was ready to move again, and he didn't need much encouragement to do it. A simple nod from England and he was pulling out, dipping down to kiss at the man's neck. It felt great, feeling the heat around him, and he was certain that he could only ever feel this way with the being currently under him. They loved each other so much, and even if he could bring himself to have sex with another, he knew that it wouldn't be as satisfying, and perhaps even unenjoyable. He continued to push in, then pull out, his subtle motions soon becoming a fast pace, and England's aroused sighs quickened with the movements, his breaths becoming grunts, then moans, and eventually sharp cries. The two moved together, the embodiment of the Uninted Kingdom arching up into each thrust, and the sounds of their love making echoed throughout the room, pressure mounting in their bodies as the friction increased between them. Between gasps of "I love you" and passionate kisses, the two continued to pant, moaning each other's names so lovingly and needily, until they just couldn't take it anymore. England came first, clinging to America's shoulders tightly as he did, riding ou his orgasm with a sharp cry of exctacy. It wasn't long before America himself came, feeling England clench and unclench around him, a spasm that the sandy-blonde was never quite used to but that always felt so good, and he bit down on the Briton's trapezius as he filled him, sucking sharply to keep from shouting. They both fell limp, breath heavy and bodies soaked with the sweat that had come from their excercise, and when America finally pulled back, he spotted the little love mark he had made on England's neck, and he smirked. He was probably going to be fussed at for that later... Deciding not to worry about that, however, he pulled out, placing a quick lick to the injured area, kissing the Brit one last, long time before laying himself down beside him. They lay there in perfect, harmonious silence for a while, each catching his breath before America spoke, his voice quiet and soft.
"So..." he began, smiling slightly. "...try picturing my old flag now."
England squinted at him for a brief moment, trying to think about what he meant, but once he remembered, his eyes widened, and his face returned to its searing red colour. The flag... The flag!!! He had completely forgotten!!! Oh, he truly was never going to be able to think of it again, but...but maybe...it wasn't so bad. After all, he really did love America now. What they did wasn't so bad, and it really did give him something new to think about when he saw the flag... Oh, who was he kidding, this was never going to work.
"What do you see..?"
"I see....I see us on a muddy battle field, fucking." he finally managed, placing his face in his palm. "All I did was combine the two images."
"Oh. Well.....are we at least happy with each other on the field..? I mean, you're not...c-crying are you..?"
"Then it worked?"
"I-I don't know! It...it was a nice thought, and...and you didn't make it worse...so..."
"I guess that's good enough for now."
"Wha--? For now..?"
"Yeah! We'll try again tomorrow, and the next day and the next, until all you can think of after seeing that flag is how much you want me in bed!"
Blushing furiously, England tried to reach out and hit his idiotic lover, but he was still a bit sluggish from intercourse, and he was very tired... He always got that way after sex, and tonight was no exception.
"Ooh, or better yet, you'll never be able to think of my flag again without getting unbearably horny! How's that..?"
"G-go to bed!!!! I knew it! You're just as bad as France!"
The American laughed, leaning in to kiss England on the tip of the nose. Damn yankee... He wasn't even trying to take this seriously anymore...
"Aww, come on England, you don't really think that... Anyway, we really are going to do this again tomorrow, so...wash the flag before then, got it?"
"I-I know that! I will!"
"And while you do that, I'll go out and buy more lubrication. We're almost out..."
"Go on then... And get the self-warming stuff this time, your hands are always cold when you try to shove your fingers up my arse!"
More laughing, courtesy of America.
"Yeah, yeah, I got it. The usual brand..?"
"Alright. Well, I know how you get after sex, so...you should probably go on to bed now. I can see your eyes trying to close on you..."
"Yeah. Thanks. I...I appreciate you trying to cheer me up like this... Even if it doesn't seem like it..."
"Any time, Iggy! Love you."
"I...I l-love you t-too."
And with those last few words, they slipped into a dreamless slumber, and what England failed to tell America, was that for the first time since he had last found that flag, he had a peaceful, calming, restful night's sleep. And he had his American lover to thank for it.