Kink Meme de-anon. Request was for AmCanAm biting kink.

This totally isn't an excuse to write smut, what are you talking about?

On a side note: Odax is short for Odaxelagnia, or a biting fetish. Tricho is short for Trichophilia (Trichotillophilia?), or hair/hair-pulling fetish.


He had discovered America's little fetish on accident.

It had been in the morning before a G8 meeting. They had woken in the usual manner; legs tangled all together, one arm each hanging off one side of the hotel bed, Canada's nose pressed into America's neck, right over his pulse. Canada had woken up first, also nothing unusual, and had smacked the poor alarm clock, almost breaking it in his sleepiness. Then, grumbling and hating the world, Canada unattached himself from the dead log that was his brother, and went to go make coffee.

It took all of five minutes for the American to wake up then, called to consciousness by the smell of the brewing beans. The superpower slunk into the kitchen area, and slumped down into one of the table chairs. America's head lolled lethargically against his chest, seeming still mostly asleep.

Once the coffee was done, Canada set down his twin's mug (two sugars, one cream) in front of him and took a sip of his own (triple-triple with just a dollop of maple syrup). This helped to wake them both up and simple morning conversation picked up.

They took turns in the shower (or rather, the Canadian had attempted to take a shower alone and had to drive his brother out of the bathroom with a brush. He then made America wait his turn. America looked rather put-out after his own shower; Canada had minimal sympathy.)

During the last minute clothing rush, America decided he wanted to make them a little late. Canada had sighed but allowed himself be kissed. After the third consecutive time, though, he had to draw the line. He nipped at America's lips as a warning. His twin seemed to take that as an encouragement, so Canada had no choice but to bite down hard on the other's bottom lip.

It had the exact opposite effect than he had hoped. America tensed, inhaling harshly through his nose, and then promptly attacked Canada with his mouth and hands, pushing him back down on the messed-up bed.

They ended up forty minutes late to the meeting.


Since that incident, Canada had been, ah, experimenting with what had made America act like he had. After several times when his brother had asked him what the hell he was doing, the Northern Nation finally thought he got it.

America reacted in a very pleasurable way (or at least, Canada thought so) if he was being bitten.

Canada wouldn't have guessed this about his elder brother, but then he had no right to judge, what with his own fetish for having his French-inherited hair pulled. Normal humans had their own special kinks, so why couldn't Nations? He knew vaguely that England was fond of being gagged (though, he would have rather not, thanks very much Papa, and aren't you with China right now, why are you talking about England?)

Of course, he hadn't really confirmed these findings, but that's what experimentation is for.

In fact, he was currently planning on how to get America away from his paperwork (Couldn't the officials at the White House give him a break already? He was supposed to be on vacation!). The most obvious solution to this problem was to interrupt his brother and tell him exactly what he wanted. But then, Canada was a nation of being discreet, so it might be harder than he thought…

The first step though, was to join America in the living room is his nightshirt, and wrap his arms around his elder brother's broad shoulders. "You know that it'll still be here in the morning, right?"

Canada felt his brother sigh, and watch him put down his pen. "I know, it's just….important."

He made a little 'hmm' noise and pressed his mouth to the side of America's head. "More important than me?"

America's answer was cut off by a large yawn.

"Well, I'm going back to bed. It's awfully lonely and cold there, but….I suppose I can just entertain myself…"

Canada knew he had won when the American exhaled very slowly. "I…suppose the rest can wait…till tomorrow…"

"Wonderful~" He purred, standing up straight and taking his twin's hand. He practically dragged the other blonde to the bedroom and pushed him down onto the Queen sized bed, before crawling up to straddle the superpower's stomach.

Half-lidded sky blue stared up him from beneath square wire-frames. "You're unusually eager tonight, Mattie."

The Canadian tossed his hair over a shoulder, "So? You've been neglecting me lately, how else am I supposed to feel?" He leaned forward to remove Texas from his brother's face, setting the state down on the bedside table next to Manitoba. He was glad that America had changed earlier, wearing the matching bottoms to Canada's top.

Again, America sighed but let his hands settle on his twin's waist. "I know…I'm really sorry, Mattie, but you know how they are…"

The True North huffed, "No excuse. I'm starting to think I should go and give them a piece of my mind. It's not fair to give you so much work when you're supposed to be relaxing."

America sat up to press a kiss to the corner of Canada's lips. "Please don't start something; they'd probably give me even more to do. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?"

Another huff. "I suppose…"

His brother grinned, "I love you, Matthew~" And kissed him fully.

When they pulled away, he returned the affection, "Love you too….You big moron."

America pouted, "Hey now…That's not very nice…" That was met with a smirk. Canada leaned back away from him, "Well then, I suppose you'll have to, ah, teach me proper manners, eh?"

He let out squeak when he was suddenly tackled, not expecting America to move so quickly. "I guess I will." The Canadian found himself unable to breathe in the next few moments, but it wasn't like he was complaining. On the contrary, he was very much enjoying the lip-lock with arms wrapped around the American's neck and legs parted so the other could settle comfortably between them.

America pulled back to work on the younger twin's neck. Canada gasped and arched his neck, feeling that this was going to be faster than he would have liked, what with how quickly Ontario responded to the elder brother's ministrations. Said brother seemed to have noticed this too, because he chuckled and pressed down against his twin.

Canada's head lolled back as he inhaled sharply, his hips bucking up to try and get more of that delicious friction. The American could feel Florida straining against to confines of the pajama bottoms and reach down to push the restricting cloth to mid-thigh. He then attempted to take both of their erections in his hand.

'Attempted' being the key word here seeing as the North American Brothers were very fortunate in the packaging department.

After a few failed tries, America gave up and just took his brother's cock in hand, pumping at a moderate speed and pressing his thumb on the tip. The Northern Nation hissed in pleasure at this, taking America's face in his hands and trying to shove his tongue down the other's throat.

Canada didn't give his brother time to recover after breaking for air; immediately he started nipping at his twin's lips, working his way along his jaw. He heard America groan softly and frowned, wanting more of a reaction than that.

So, he sunk his teeth into the lob of America's left ear.

Now there was the body tense he was looking for. Canada internally applauded himself, but then moaned out loud at the tightening of America's hand on his cock. He released his elder twin's ear before whispering in it silkily. "Come on, Al~ Lets pick up the pace~"

The Canadian heard his bother let out a shaky breath before replying, voice deeper than usual in arousal. "Damn little tease is what you are, Mattie." And then, quieter, "Where'd you put the lube?"

"Second drawer down." Canada let himself rest against the bed again, stretching out as America went to retrieve the bottle of lubricant. He took Ontario in hand, languidly stroking himself as he waited for America to uncap the lube.

Once the other had, however, Canada found himself face-down in the pillows. The blonde blinked, wondering what just happened before he felt the American's hands on his body; one trailing cold, wet fingers down his spine, the other tangling a fist into his hair.

The True North moaned when simultaneously America pushed a finger into him and pulled back on his hair. Canada gritted his teeth against the pleasure that shot down his spine like an electric current. America gave his hair a little tug in time with each pump of his finger, making the younger twin's legs quiver and pulse quicken.

It didn't take long before America had pushed in fingers two, three, and four, each with their own increasingly hard pull at Canada's long golden locks until he was arched at an angle that would be very uncomfortable for anyone who was not a contortionist. He could look up straight into America's half-lidded eyes, which had darkened from their normal sky blue to navy in his arousal. He knew his own must have gone from lavender to indigo.

He saw America grin and he felt his fingers withdraw from inside him. He felt Florida nudge at his entrance, and as much as he wanted brother to be inside right now, he also wanted to be facing the other.

"W-wait..! Alfred, wait a moment…!"

The southern Nation titled his head in confusion, but did as asked, even letting go of his brother's long hair. He took the opportunity to roll over again. "I…I wanted to see you properly…"

America nodded in understanding, "Alright, Mattie…" They locked lips again as America pushed in, swallowing Canada's gasp.

The northern Nation shuddered and let his head drop onto the other twin's shoulder. The elder blonde picked up a shallow pace right away, knowing that Canada would probably yell at him if he stopped. (Or at least, if the roles were reversed, America would yell at Canada not to stop…)

While the Canadian was content at this pace, he wanted the American to pick it up. He wanted to be pounded into the bed until he was sore and satisfied and wouldn't be able to get up tomorrow morning.

And there seemed to be only one way to get what he wanted without saying it. And into the juncture of America's neck and shoulder his white teeth went. The sudden buck that accompanied the action was very satisfying indeed.

Canada gasped through his teeth, refusing to release the other's skin even as pleasure tingled its way back up his spine. Instead, he ground his teeth a little. Another rough buck, another thrust deeper than before, another stab of America's cockhead closer to Canada's prostrate.

The younger brother whined as he let go of the superpower's skin. "Please Al...! Again! Harder!"

America had to comply, the sight and sound of his brother beneath him, his face flushed and hair splayed out, begging him. It was just too much…!

You wouldn't think, what with how quiet Canada usually is, how vocal he could get when catching. And America, for all his yelling and loud-mouthing, was near silent save for low groans and heavy breathing. (It was mostly the same way the other way around, with Canada chanting his brother's name as he pounded him, America's mouth open in quiet moans.)

"Al! Alfred! P-please, Al-aaah~! Right there…! Aaah!"

The True North's nails dug into the other blonde's back, leaving dark red marks and scratches. He buried his face into America's opposite shoulder, nipping just hard enough to leave a light mark. He enjoyed the shudders that ran down his brother's body, the deep thrusts that accompanied them. The bed was rocking rather hard now, and if he wasn't careful, America would break it.

Again.

For the seventh time.

But, right now, the superpower couldn't be bothered to pay attention to anything other than how wonderful his brother felt around his cock, or how sweet his brother's moaning was in his ears.

"Matthew…Mattie…" The elder blonde groaned lowly, leaning down close to his brother, dropping onto his elbows for support. One hand found Canada's air again, tugging it lightly, making Canada's toes curl at his sides.

Neither of them were going to last much longer now, they could feel it. The Canadian wanted to go out, ah, with a bang. So to speak.

The younger brother took a deep breath to prepare himself, and bit into his brother's shoulder, hard enough so that he tasted copper on his tongue.

The effect was immediate. America's hips jerked so roughly the headboard slammed into the wall. The hand tangled in the other's hair yanked, Canada's head snapping back, and a small bundle of hairs were pulled out.

Canada himself screamed out his climax, the sensation of the pulling and how hard America had rammed into his prostate being too, too much. All he could see for a few moments was blissful white, and then he felt warmth on him and inside him.

And then he was briefly not breathing, because 200 or so pounds of American collapsed onto his own 160-something body. (America claimed all that weight was muscle. It was true for the most part, but Canada did like to pinch at his brother's love-handles when he got too lazy to go to the gym.) Harsh panting resounded in the younger's ear for a few minutes, until the superpower found the strength to roll over and off his brother.

The True North curled into the elder blonde's side, settling his head on America's shoulder. An arm came up around the younger's waist, and there was a murmured "Love you, Matthew…" and then America was out. The Canadian smiled, traced his marks on the other's throat with light fingers, and giggled to himself.

Well, that certainly wraps up Canada's testing nicely, but you know what they say; A good scientist repeats his experiments several times, to check the results.

Canada couldn't wait.


America traced a few of the angry bruises on his neck and shoulder, examining them in the bathroom mirror. Next to him, England was washing his hands and looking irate. (But then again, he always looked angry to the Superpower...)

"I don't know what it is, Iggy. ("Don't call me that.") He keeps doing this whenever we get together now. ("Don't tell me about your sex-life!")"

America turned and gave his former guardian a Very Serious Look(TM).

"I'm starting to think he has a biting fetish or something."