A/N- Thank you to my wonderful American friends for proofreading this for me (even if one of you had to do it out loud...)! Otherwise I'd have missed a tonne of mistakes. So anyway, I wrote this after getting such positive feedback on 'Valentine's Day'. I apologise for its general suckiness in comparison. ^^; Much of this was written late at night so my brain had died...
So warnings- yaoi, pwp, don't like don't read yadda yadda yadda... oh and much lemon.
Disclaimer- I do not own Hetalia.
You Say 'Elevator', I Say 'Lift' (UKUS)
"Wah! I'm scared! England! Hold me!" the sandy-haired man cried out, tears beginning to stream from his eyes, as he latched himself onto the darkened lift's only other occupant.
"Get off me, you great oaf!" England protested, attempting to prise the man from his middle. "It's only a power cut!"
"But we're stuck in this elevator and I'm scared and we're gonna die!" America wailed, still clinging on for dear life. It seemed no amount of brute force on England's part would be able to shift him. The Brit sighed in exasperation and settled for a different tactic.
He began to stroke America's hair softly, brushing his left hand through the locks whilst his right maintained a firm grip on the other's shoulder.
"There there, America. It's okay. It's okay. Everything's going to be all right. I'm here…" He knew this should work; it was something he'd been forced to do plenty of times during his days of raising America as a young colony. Many a time had the small boy come across something to be frightened of: the time his cooking had set the kitchen on fire; the time the boy had encountered a particularly gruesome illustration in one of his magic books; the first time they'd visited a graveyard… At each of these occasions, England had been forced to hold America, stroke him, and sometimes sing until he had calmed down.
America whimpered in his grasp, but at least he had stopped panicking… for now. He occasionally let out a faint, muffled whine into England's shirt, but those slowly died away as England began to sing to him.
"Memory… All alone in the moonlight…"
When England finished the song, he was finally able to detach himself from America. The other man looked at him with still watery eyes.
"Thanks…" he mumbled, averting his eyes to the ground. After a moment, America looked back up and towards the doors. "What do you think we should do now? We're stuck in here…"
"Hmm…" England stepped over and rapped his knuckles against the doors a couple of times. "I think…" he mused," that we are stuck in here for the time being. But they'll get the power working soon enough. We were on our way to a G8 meeting, and Germany would never let a power cut interrupt the schedule for too long." His green eyes had adjusted partially to the dim surroundings they had been plunged into, but he could still only make out the faint outline of America's form. He saw the man walk over to the far side of the space and sit down, elbows resting on his knees, as the sound of an exasperated sigh reached his ears.
"This sucks…" America complained quietly, staring off into the dark.
England remained standing where he was, wondering what to do. First things first, he decided, they needed light. He slipped his mobile phone from his pocket and switched it on, illuminating his face. America looked up suddenly at that, startled by the bright light.
"We should share that," he said, expression unreadable. America didn't look very happy; his face seemed closest to what could be described as 'pissed off'.
England walked over and parked himself next to America. He placed the phone on the floor in between the two of them to spread the light evenly amongst the pair. An awkward silence descended as neither could think of anything to say. America was in too much of a mood to speak, and England didn't dare do anything which could upset or anger him.
After several long moments, England remembered something.
Reaching down into the breast pocket of his suit, he produced a small white paper bag. He held it in America's direction, offering him some of the contents. "Jelly baby?"
America raised an eyebrow. It was not the first time England had offered him one of the human-shaped sweets, but it was still a rare event. Usually the giant eyebrowed-man liked to keep them all for himself. America had caught him on more than one occasion surreptitiously munching on them during world meetings. After a pause, he hesitantly took one and plopped it into his mouth, chewing contentedly. He couldn't say no to food, and it had eased his mood a bit.
"Thanks," he said, swallowing. He looked back across at England, who was stashing the rest back in his pocket and sucking on a jelly baby of his own.
"No problem," the Englishman replied, smiling for once. He leaned his head back against the wall, glad to have finally broken the silence. After a second he asked, "So, America, how are things going?"
America looked across at him, noting how the miniscule but harsh light from the screen made the man's already pale skin even paler. "Alright, I guess," he answered with a shrug. "Recession's still going and there's been a load of stuff, but what else is new?"
England chuckled. "Yes, same. But I meant, what's new in your life?"
America's eyebrows rose. England's question had taken him a little by surprise. Since when did the Brit care how he was doing?
"Fine. Same old, same old. Hanging out with Tony, partying a bit… Oh! Yesterday I beat this really hard level of a videogame on Expert mode! You shoulda seen the way I took down the boss! Dude, it was amazing!"
By the end of his response, America's face had lit up. Even in the poor light, England could see his handsome features glowing with excitement. It was an endearing sight and it managed to make England laugh.
"I'm sure it was," he replied, smiling.
There was another pause for a moment, but it was far less awkward than before. America slipped his suit jacket off as England watched, and proceeded to loosen his tie. England regarded the man next to him, whose brow was furrowed slightly in concentration, and saddened a little. He was treating America like a little child again. One of these days he'd have to treat him like the man he now was. If only he'd behave like it. But was that England's fault? Had he spoiled America? Raised him in such a way that he could never properly grow up?
Guilt pooled in England's stomach.
"Hey, America?" he asked, his tone sounding curious. The man in question glanced over to him.
"Do you think…" England sighed and leaned forwards, hunching over. "Do you think we're going to get out of here?"
"Huh?" America seemed to be taken by surprise. His eyes widened as he stared at England. The British man's face looked ever so pained. Despite his previous good humour, something was actually, deep down, troubling him. A crease ran across his pale brow as he gazed unseeingly at the floor. "But, dude, didn't you just say that we would get out of here?"
"Idiot. I was just trying to calm you down," England retorted, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice.
That hurt America. He'd trusted him when he'd told him that! He opened his mouth to say something nasty back, probably make some comment about his singing making his ears bleed, when England sighed again, a heavy, wistful sigh, and rested his head back against the wall once more. America thought he could make out the faint shimmering of tears begin to pool in the man's emerald green eyes. Somehow, the look on England's face tugged on his heartstrings, but just a little.
"Have I wasted my life, America…?" he asked, voice cracking a fraction as he said the other man's name. He turned those glistening eyes on the American, and his expression was almost pleading.
America felt his mouth unconsciously form a little 'o'. He blinked at England, brain suddenly coming up blank when he tried to think of something to say. He sat there, frozen, for a full half a minute before he eventually decided that if he couldn't say something, then he should at least do something.
Leaning over, he pulled England into a tight hug, allowing the other man to bury his face into his shoulder. He felt England's rib cage begin to rapidly move in and out as he began to sob, and a growing patch of moisture began to darken the fabric of America's white shirt.
"Hey, calm down dude…" America's voice was soft as he stroked England's back soothingly. His eyes were saddened; he didn't like seeing his former guardian reduced to this. After a minute he pulled back, holding England by his shoulders and looking him straight in the eyes.
"Now listen to me, England. No country who has created the largest empire the world has ever known can say he's wasted his life. Besides, you have your Commonwealth. And…" He let his mouth twitch into a cheeky grin. "You did raise the most awesome and greatest nation on the planet, dude."
England's eyes continued to water, but a small smile did creep into existence on his face.
"Well, that's debatable," he responded, a trace of his former good mood beginning to return.
Suddenly, he leaned forwards. America didn't have time to react before he felt something light and warm brush against his forehead. It was a sensation he remembered all too well. The feel of England's kiss.
"Thank you, America," England murmured, pulling away.
The blue-eyed man's mouth opened and closed repeatedly, and in the back of his mind he laughed at how much like a fish he must have looked. He blinked rapidly, brain once again receding into shutdown.
After a moment, he gave the only response he could come up with, since his mind was unable to properly comprehend the atmosphere. "No problem, dude. It's what heroes do!"
He sat up straighter and gave England a thumbs up, coupled with the biggest and most heroic grin he could muster stretching across his face.
England looked on in puzzlement for a minute, before he could no longer restrain his laughter at the sheer silliness of America's reaction. His whole body shook with his fit of guffaws. It took a whole two minutes for him to calm down and for his breathing to return to normal. Ordinarily, America would have frowned if England had laughed at him, but on this occasion, it simply stretched his smile even more, as he knew that he had successfully broken England out of his slump.
After another minute or so, England sat back against the wall, America joining him. Both were still chuckling now and then, and at one point England even let out a small sound which sounded to America an awful lot like a giggle.
England, moments later, flicked his gaze onto the American. He watched the way his blue eyes practically sparkled, even in the poor light, and the way his unnaturally white teeth shone as he grinned. It seemed he had raised a good country after all.
But still, none of that meant anything if they were still stuck in the damned lift.
England's eyes flickered around the metal walls, passing over the tiny bumps in the floor and the panel of buttons on the wall to their right. He couldn't make out much of the detail in the gloom. It was so dark…
His mind went to a dirty place at that. He shook his head a little, trying to clear his thoughts, but it stuck there, clinging to his mind. It was dark, and nobody would see them…
But he couldn't. It was America for God's sake! The man he'd raised up from a tiny boy! They couldn't do it…
But still. Nobody might come. This might be the last place he ever saw… Wouldn't it be better to spend his last moments in pleasure, rather than sadness, boredom or even arguing?
His eyes journeyed over America's features again. The perverted part of his mind wondered what the man would look like writhing under him.
America caught him staring, but failed to read the mood. Resultantly, he simply gave England another smile before leaning back against the wall once again.
England's eyes locked onto those lips, the back of his brain wondering what they would feel like. He knew his own lips had been savaged by years of biting them in irritation, but would America's be the same? He was curious to find out…
As his eyes roamed further south, other questions about America popped into his head. He pondered exactly how muscular he was underneath that shirt, and just how big he had… err… grown… since he'd last had to bathe him as a child. While his mind revelled in these thoughts, his trousers began to feel more and more uncomfortable.
That settled it for England. He waited a minute, crafting a rudimentary plan in his mind, before he opened his mouth to speak. If he was going to die in a lift, then he would at least go out with a bang. Literally.
"You know, America, people trapped in lifts sometimes do something. In the dark… And in case it does, unlikely as it is, turn out to be the last thing they do…"
"Huh? What's that?" America looked wary when England mentioned the words 'last thing they do'. His blue eyes bored into England, and the green-eyed man felt himself trapped by the gaze.
Enraptured as he may have been, England managed to shake himself from it. He went over the idea again, making sure he was comfortable with it. He could feel America's presence next to him, and that very sensation had set his whole body on edge. He smirked, deciding to go ahead with his suggestion.
"Well, they… Hmm, maybe it would be better if I show you…"
America was absolutely baffled now. "Show me? Dude you're not making any sense. Is the oxygen starting to get thin or something?"
"Well," England replied playfully, leaning in a bit. "Let's just say you may find your breathing rate increasing in a bit…"
Without any warning, America suddenly found his lips were against England's. He squeaked in surprise, but found himself unable to retreat as England's arms were now either side of him, pinning him to the wall. The Englishman's slightly rough lips pressed more forcefully against his, and he found himself subconsciously parting his lips a little, his own tongue poking out slightly to taste the mouth ground against his.
'W-why am I responding to this?' America thought, eyes beginning to flutter closed. It was England! It was gross that he was kissing him! So then, why did he like it so much?
"W-why, England?" he managed to ask, voice surprisingly quiet, as the man in question finally pulled back. The usually angry green eyes he remembered were now half-lidded, concealing a devious glint within them.
A small smirk twisted England's lips before they parted to reply, "Because we're all alone in a dark lift, and I want to die indulging myself."
America's eyes slowly widened. He'd never seen this side of England before. He'd seen the caring big brother who'd smiled and offered him his hand, and he'd seen the grumpy faux-gentleman he pretended to be in front of the rest of the world. Hell, he'd seen a glimpse of the man's perverted half when he'd found the porno magazine the Englishman had sneaked into a world meeting! That had certainly been a fun day of teasing…
But he'd never seen this scarily dominating and almost depraved England who hovered over him now. For some odd reason it sent a tingle down his spine and lodged a strange feeling in his gut.
At that point, England leaned in again, this time aiming further down, for America's neck. He flicked his tongue out in an almost serpent-like manner, causing the man to shiver again. He ghosted the wet muscle up and down America's jugular, eventually causing him to let out a little sound of "Ah!" He paused in satisfaction at that, his smirk increasing. It felt good to stop pretending to be a gentleman for once and let his inner self do whatever it wished.
England removed his palms from the wall and began to undo the buttons of America's shirt, peeling it away to allow himself a good view of the man's tanned chest. Hmm, it seemed he'd been panicking about his weight for nothing; all England could see were perfect muscles and, to his chagrin, a six pack.
He nudged the shirt away, down America's arms, until it pooled onto the floor, leaving America's torso completely exposed. The man seemed unable to move beneath him, eyes locked on to England's face and incapable of leaving it. That caused England to grow a little harder still, and he was forced to bite his lip to resist the urge to free himself from his fabric confines.
"A-are you sure you want this?" America suddenly asked, breaking England from his train of thought.
England blinked at him, hands pausing over the soft nipples he'd been about to tease and harden. He leaned back up a bit, eyes softening ever so slightly. One hand was reached up to slide down the side of America's face and cup his cheek.
"Yes," England replied, looking him straight in the eyes. As green focussed on blue, he continued, "And I want you to want this as well."
He moved forwards at that, bringing his head to America's and brushing his lips against the other's for another kiss. This time, when America's lips instinctively parted again, he slipped his tongue around, exploring the man's mouth and trailing it over the white teeth he'd always admired.
It was then that he felt another tongue run along his own, and this time it was England who had a shiver run down his spine. He moaned a little at the sensation, a little surprised at the sound coming from his mouth, but far too caught up in the moment for it to distract him.
When at last their lips parted, America's breathing had increased, although England's had somehow remained steady. America looked up at England, a little of the confusion from his eyes having dissipated. Some of his confidence seemed to have returned, and the Brit was glad of that fact.
The younger of the two reached one shaking hand up ever so slowly, clasping his fingers around the large buttons of England's suit and steadily undoing them one by one. England smiled, noting the little dent in America's brow that indicated his concentration. When then final button was undone, America's second hand joined the first, and together they yanked the jacket to the floor.
"We're still not even," America commented, a teasing light entering his eyes.
England raised one bushy eyebrow, but smirked and set to work on his clothes himself. Within a few moments, his shirt had been discarded on top of his jacket, leaving his own pale chest exposed. As America's eyes raked over his form, he suddenly felt a little… inadequate. He wasn't half as muscular as the other. Still, at the end of the day, it was all about presence. If he could have the more dominating aura, then he would be the one in charge.
"There we go. Although, you do look a little tight down there America…" he grinned. His eyes had noticed the bulge which was appearing in the other man's pants. "Should I take care of it for you?"
America gulped, although by now he could feel himself starting to think with his dick rather than his brain. He cocked an eyebrow.
"You gonna suck me off, dude? Go for it."
This time it was England's turn to have his eyebrows migrate up his forehead, but still, America's words had turned him on quite a bit. Bending over, he used his fingers to twist the button undone, but then pulled his hands back, placing them on America's hips for support, as he leaned closer and tugged down America's zip with his teeth.
America arched up at that, trying to grind against England. The elder, however, decided to torment him a bit; he pulled away and moved back, using his hands to forcefully pull America's trousers from his legs. He stopped when they were around his ankles, carefully undoing the man's shoelaces before ripping off each shoe and flinging them to the opposite side of the lift, making them clang loudly against the metal. It was at this point that he kicked his own shoes off too, knocking them away with his feet before returning his attention to America, throwing his trousers off to the right.
America whimpered a little, suddenly feeling slightly vulnerable. But then, he realised, this meant England really was going to give him a blowjob!
'Fucking hell!' he thought. 'England is going to give me a blowjob. England. Holy shit! I am about to be sucked off in a dark elevator by England!'
As if on cue, America felt his boxers being pulled away. He lifted his hips a bit to allow them to be removed more easily, all the time watching England's face. The pale man's eyes were half-lidded, his mouth twisted into a lust-filled smirk and… wait, was he licking his lips?
America shuddered as the air hit his dick, and his ears caught a faint sound coming from England which sounded almost like a purr.
"My my…" England muttered, crawling over America once again. "You certainly have grown, haven't you?"
America grinned. "Bet I'm larger than you, old man."
England's eyebrow raised yet again. "Oh? Well, maybe you are…" Inside England groaned. America was bigger. "But it's not size that counts… It's what you do with it."
America laughed. "Well right now, you should be using your mouth to suck, not talk, dude."
England huffed. He folded his arms across his chest. "Keep that up and I won't touch your cock at all."
An exasperated sigh left America's mouth. "Geez… Fine. Sorry."
England felt his own dick harden a little as he experienced some power over America. It seemed he was really getting off on that. Leaning down he allowed his breath to flutter over America's cock, and he held himself there for a moment, taunting him with each breath.
A faint whimper escaped America's lips. 'Damn it…' he thought. "England…" The whine left his mouth before he could think about it.
Just as America was about to protest further, he suddenly gasped as something hot and wet ran up along the underside of his dick. His hips bucked a little, and he felt strong hands then grasp them and force them down. Clearly, England had no intention of allowing himself to be choked by any impulsive movements he might make. The scorching wetness returned as he felt England's tongue lick over the tip, followed by an even greater sensation as his mouth engulfed it. His eyes squeezed shut and his head titled back against the elevator wall as the pleasure racked over his body.
England sucked hard, running his tongue over America's cock and his slit, before gradually moving down to take in more and more. America's breathing had become increasingly heavy, and when England began to deep throat, his mouth opened with an "Ah!" and his hands flew to England's head, fingers latching tightly into his pale blond hair.
His teeth clenched together and after a minute, he felt a familiar sensation. "Ah! Ahh! E-England… I… I'm gonna…"
England grazed his teeth along America's cock as he pulled back, a small string of saliva connecting his mouth to the other. He snapped it with one finger as he grinned. "Hmm, I liked that," he mused, eyes glinting. "But… I think I'd like it even better if I could see you making those sounds too…"
America might have been poor at reading the atmosphere, but on this occasion, his brain somehow succeeded in putting two and two together to, for once, make four.
"Dude, no! I am not going to unheroically bottom!" America spluttered, protesting. He scooted closer to the wall, sitting more upright.
England looked hurt. His green eyes widened and his whole expression seemed pleading. The older man cast his gaze down to the floor. "Please… America… I-I just wanted to feel like I had power over you once more before I… died…"
America bit his lip, unsure. He didn't want to be the one being fucked, he would much rather be pitcher. But, he also didn't want to see England looking so hurt. And it was true that they might not make it out of the elevator…
"Ugh. Fine. But just this once, England, okay?"
England's expression lit up, and he grinned wolfishly. He slowly got to his feet and reached for his belt, quickly undoing both it and his trousers, dropping them both to the ground. Stepping out of them, he fumbled with his boxers, sliding them off rather more quickly than he was usually prone to. Turning back around, he swung them around his index finger a couple of times before discarding them to a random corner of the lift.
"Not that much smaller than yours now, is it?" he joked, moving to stand over America. The blue-eyed man looked up at England, gulping as he saw the size of his dick. He had to fit all that in his ass? Could he really do it? He'd gotten some pretty big things out of there before, especially after a burger spree at McDonald's, but getting something in was a completely different story…
But wait, he was America, right?
"I'm a hero. I can take it!" he assured him, putting on his best and most confident expression.
"All right then," England smirked. He crouched down and held three fingers in front of America's mouth. "But we don't have any lube in this lift so… suck."
America blinked for a second. No lube? That would make it hurt more right? He'd better give England's fingers a thorough licking then.
Tilting his head up, America took England's fingers into his mouth, running his tongue around each digit and sucking furiously. A small trickle of saliva dribbled from his mouth and ran down his chin as he worked on England's fingers. After a minute or so, when he finally deemed them sufficiently wet, he pulled back, wiping the drool from his face with the back of one hand.
England knelt down between America's legs, using his elbows to spread them further apart. America had slid down a bit to give England better access, but it was still a little uncomfortable for him to be pressed up against the hard metal of the elevator walls. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth as he felt England's finger lightly circle his hole, causing his muscles there to tighten a little, before it began to push in.
"Nng…" he whimpered, unused to the sensation.
"Shh… easy now…" England soothed, slowly moving his finger further in. When he'd entered it as far as he could, he began to wiggle it around a little, trying to loosen America up as much as possible before he added a second.
America winced as the next digit entered him. The stretching was starting to hurt a little more now. It felt weird to have fingers probing down there…
"England…" he pleaded, unable to stop himself from saying something. In response, the man in question leaned forwards and captured his lips in a kiss, attempting to distract him from the fingers which were now scissoring him wider and the third digit which then entered. "Please just relax…" England whispered in his ear. As the pale blond leaned back he removed the fingers, and America let out a tiny sigh of relief.
"Phew… dude that felt really wha-? !" His voice raised in surprise as England's dick was suddenly in his face.
"We don't have any lube, remember. So suck."
America's brow creased, but he leaned forwards anyway and took England's cock into his mouth. It tasted funny, but he was used to stuffing his face, so having a dick in there wasn't really an uncomfortable sensation for him. England was surprised at how easily America was able to take him all in. He was remarkable talented at giving a blowjob, and the way he was able to use his tongue had England moaning aloud. America smirked around England's member as he heard the pleading noises the other was making. England was in seventh heaven, but he was forced to pull out after a minute or so before he accidentally came into the other's mouth.
"Right then…" England said, but it was almost a sigh. Kneeling back down, he placed a hand on either side of America, then reached one hand round to guide his dick into America's hole.
America's eyes widened as he felt England begin to push inside. God, was he really that big? ! He was moving slowly, but still, the stretching was insane!
Once England was fully inside, he paused, waiting to America to become more accustomed to him. After a minute or so, the younger's face became less pained, and he smiled encouragingly at him.
"Can I move?" he asked tentatively.
America's face seemed to settle into a look of determination, and he nodded. After a second, he even flashed England his trademark hero smile, and replied, "Sure, but you'd better make this worth it, dude. Or I'm totally gonna flip us and fuck your ass 'til you can't sit for a week!"
England laughed, but his expression was predatory. He licked his lips and then began to thrust, slowly at first, but gradually increasing his pace. America's body rocked each time he plunged into him, and at first the younger's expression was a grimace. However, after a while, he began to make faint "ah…" sounds, and when England shifted his angle and succeeded in striking America's prostate, the man's eyes opened wide and he let out a cry of, "Yes!"
After that, America's face was one of pure ecstasy. His fingers clung tightly to England's shoulders, and at every thrust he let out a moan of "England!", "Oh god!" or "Yes!" England loved it, and eagerly drank in the sight of America begging and whining beneath him.
"You love that, don't you? You little whore, America…"
Normally America would have been insulted at being called a whore, but at this point England's words only turned him on and he was too far gone to properly register them even then.
"Y-yes…!" he panted back, eyes clenched tightly shut in pleasure. Whoever knew being bottom could feel so good?
After another minute or so, America felt the sensation of his oncoming release return again. His legs tightened around England, and he gasped out, "E-England! I… I'm going to… to come…"
England grunted as he thrust in particularly deeply. He looked directly at America's face and, green eyes glinting, commanded, "Come, America."
America couldn't hold on anymore, not with the tone of England's voice. He released, crying out, "Ah! England!" The green-eyed man watched the younger's face intently, drinking in the sight of his look during orgasm. The fact that he had been able to make America pull a face like that thrilled him. Combined with the clenching of America's muscles around his cock, England could no longer hold off his own release.
"America!" he called out, head whipping back as he came into the other. The man in question watched him with half-lidded eyes as he rode out his orgasm, pulling out and kneeling back once he was finished.
Green eyes roved over the white stains splattered across both their chests and the small trail now trickling out of America's arse. Both men were panting, and both were now far too tired to move.
"You still want to top next time?" England asked, finally breaking the silence.
America seemed to think about it for a moment. "Buy me a burger and I'll say no."
"Do I have to supersize it?"
"Then I'll buy you a burger."
America laughed. "Then my answer is no, dude."
As both men smiled and started to chuckle, the lights suddenly flickered, before lingering on. England looked up at the ceiling in surprise.
"Oh, the power's back on."
"Guess that means we won't die then," America commented, pulling himself up a little.
All of a sudden, there was a ping. Both men spun around, eyes wide, as the doors noisily rolled open. To their horror, Japan stood there, clutching a folder of paperwork. His brown eyes widened as he took in the sight before him, and a small trickle of blood ran down from his nose. Everyone froze for a moment, before finally, somebody spoke.
"Ret me just grab my camera!"