A/N: Last chapter! Thank you all for sticking with me throughout this story! I'm somewhat sad to see it end, but I'll be writing another story (whether it be one-shot or multi-chapter) and I can't work efficiently if I don't write one story at a time. ^-^; BUT if you all have suggestions for a story, I wouldn't mind taking them (maybe). If not, please just stay alert for a new story to come out. :)
For those of you who do not want to read the lemon portion, just skip to the scene break line after the first one (do not include the one after the author's notes). That's the end of the smutty scene.
For you other perverts (lolol, I'm one too) proceed with your smut.
Warning, this chapter contains lemon. Read at own risk. Tabitha [if you're reading this] turn back now. Or at least when it starts to get steamy, turn back. XD)
England couldn't quite place when it occurred, but an overwhelming sense of dizziness washed over his form sometime during the night. The room spun for him and if he had a physical body, then he was sure he would have vomited. He closed his eyes tightly and the next moment his whole body relaxed and he fell into a soft darkness.
He didn't know how much time passed, but his eyes slowly opened and he yawned. His body felt warm and his eyelids fell shut again. This was nice. The warmth made him feel completely relaxed and he buried his face into his pillow with a satisfied sigh. He hadn't felt this nice and peaceful in a long time.
He didn't fall back asleep though and slowly his mind began to wake up more. His eyes shot open with a start as he realized that he shouldn't feel warm. He lived by himself at his house and he knew that he hadn't drunk at all last night. So why the devil was he so warm? England glanced down cautiously.
The first thing he saw was a mass of tan-blonde hair with a single strand sticking up and tickling his nose. England snorted softly and brushed the strand away from his nose. When it bounced back he decided he had to move himself and shifted. It was then he discovered a weight on his torso. He glanced down and saw an arm wrapped around his stomach just below the ribs. It must be a man. He thought as he saw the muscle on it. He wasn't into women who had more muscle than he did. He followed the length of the arm to a clothed torso (thank god, that meant he didn't have sex with anyone) and continued to follow with his eyes to a neck and face. England's heart rate picked up as a sense of foreboding flowed over him. This figure looked extremely familiar.
He pinched the arm of the figure lightly and the figure stirred and lifted his head. Bleary blue eyes blinked at him and England's eyes widened. Oh shit, how did America get here? He instantly grew mad. "Y-you! What the devil are you doing in my bed?" He demanded loudly.
America jolted at the sudden loud noise and focused on him. His brows furrowed. "What?" He asked.
"My bed! Why are you in it?"
America looked down and around him. England noticed that he hadn't removed his arms yet and his body was still pressed against England's. America turned back to him with a frown. "This is my house, England. You know, you've been living with me for a while? Are you still asleep?" England stared at him before sitting up and looking around as well. He was right. This was America's bedroom for sure. But why was he here?
Oh, right. A spell. He thought. He wasn't sure what spell it was, but he recalled that he ended up here because of it. How he ended up with America in bed he didn't know still. "I see…" He murmured. He gazed down at his apparel and discovered that the shirt he was wearing appeared similar to the kind he wore during his pirating days.
America studied him for a moment before he sat up and released England. England felt a vague sense of disappointment. "You don't remember?" America put his face close to England's to stare at him more. England's face turned pink and he pressed his hands against America's chest to push him away, but he didn't press nearly hard enough. A flash of an unknown emotion –sadness? Disappointment?- passed through America's eyes before he pulled away with a smile. "You're back to your normal age!" England had the impression that his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Did my spell change my age?" Even as he asked, he recalled being a child and having to be raised by America. He shook his head. "Never mind. I remember now."
"You remember?" America asked, startled.
"Yeah." England climbed out of the bed to find himself only wearing boxers. "I was turned into a child. I'm back to normal now." He sighed through his nose and looked out of the window. "I probably have a lot of work to do when I return."
America got out of the bed as well. He seemed nervous, England noted. "You want some breakfast?"
"Yes, that would be lovely." England found it strange that America was being so docile and not immediately telling him to make his own breakfast. He liked it, but something was off with the younger nation. He followed him out and down the stairs. Something out of place caught his eye and he turned to see a light blue unicorn with rainbow mane and tail. England's eyes widened. "Mr. Gumdrops…" he breathed, walking over to pick the stuffed animal up. He pressed the doll to his cheek and closed his eyes as a rush of memories overwhelmed him. He remembered finding the unicorn and the fuss he made over it. He remembered going to EPCOT with it. With a start he also remembered being the ghost outside of his body.
He froze as the rest of his memories caught up with him –both as the child and as the ghost. It was a strange feeling, like one receives when they dream of themselves in the dream but also of watching themselves in the dream from the outside. He placed the unicorn on the couch gently. He understood now why America was acting strange. He thought that England had little-to-no memory of their time together as adult and charge. He thought England didn't remember the story they shared together now. But England did remember. He remembered everything.
England walked into the kitchen silently to see America hunched over the table staring at a bowl of cereal. England rolled his eyes. Apparently he hadn't planned on making breakfast. There was a conflicted look in the man's eyes that disappeared when England entered the room. England crossed his arms. "I thought you were making breakfast."
"I never said that." America said. "I just asked if you wanted breakfast." England huffed.
"Fine, I'll make my own then." He moved to the cupboards to bring out a pan but America said,
"Whoa whoa whoa. Dude, you're not allowed to cook using my kitchen. I don't need a fire." He stood and took the pan from England's hands and put it back in the cupboard, moving between the older nation and the cupboard to make sure that he didn't try to get more supplies out.
England glared at him, offended. So we're going back to the way we were, huh? "My cooking is perfectly fine!"
"No it isn't. That thing's a weapon of mass destruction."
"Wanker!" He shouted and moved for the bowls and cereal, pissed. America watched him before going back to his own food. England was in a huff as he walked over to the table with his full bowl and firmly ignored America. He sobered up some as he remembered his discovery yesterday and resisted touching his lips. He'd had his first kiss with America and only through those memories did he remember it. He was dissatisfied. It was second-hand memories. He wanted his own.
He glanced up through his bangs to see America watching him. He pretended not to see him but felt heat run through him at the stare. He couldn't believe the onset of emotions he was feeling. Now that he finally comprehended what these twisted emotions were he was suddenly so sensitive to America. And America was in love with him. He wasn't aware that England remembered the little confession from last night. He would have to change that.
When they were finished, America stretched as they travelled upstairs. "So you're probably going to want a ride to the airport, right?"
"What?" England asked, caught off-guard. America glanced back at him.
"A ride. To the airport. 'Cause you wanna go home, right?"
"Oh." England didn't reply. Yes, he had to go home. But not on these terms. Not on these completely average terms. "But do you want me to leave?"
America paused while pulling out a clean shirt to change into. "What?"
"Do you want me to go home?" England repeated, walking over to the dresser to snag a pair of pants. He didn't feel like changing his shirt right this minute.
America watched him for a second before laughing. It was forced. "Of course I do! The sooner I get rid of you, the better! I had to deal with you as a kid, after all!"
Liar. England studied the pants casually. "I never realized that you lie so much, America."
America paused again, surprised. "What?"
England tossed the pants to the floor. "You're lying. You lied when you told me you tossed your toy soldiers away as well."
He stiffened. "Y-you remember finding them?"
"Yes, I do." England turned and approached him. "Why would you lie to me?" He questioned.
America looked away. "I don't know."
"Even now you're lying." England said, frustrated.
"I'm not lying!"
"You are." He grabbed America's chin and forced him to look at him. America's cheeks turned pink, probably remembering yesterday. "Were you lying to me when you said you had an unrequited love for me as well?" This time America's face turned fully red. He stepped back and out of England's grip.
"Y-you remember that!"
"How could I forget?" He asked, stepping forward again. America took another step back and against the wall. England smirked. He had him cornered. "After all, you said something very important." America didn't answer but he looked nervous. But below that, he also looked a little hopeful. England wasn't going to let him down. He slammed his hands on either side of America's face. "You seem to think that I still consider you a child." He felt irritated that America thought that.
"That's because you do!" America said. "You always treat me like a child!"
"Well that thought had scattered quite a while back." He stated. "After all, you managed to take care of my child self well enough." England's eyes softened as he remembered how America had saved him from being hit by a car. "I consider you mature enough to do that, at least."
America frowned. "A thirteen year old can take care of a child if they have to."
"That's true. But a babysitter gets paid, do they not?" He placed a hand on America's cheek. America's eyes widened before they became hooded as England ran his thumb under America's eye.
America's heart thudded in his chest and he leaned forward to bring their faces closer until their increased breathing intermingled together and their lips barely brushed as he said, "You'd better realize what you're doing, England."
"Unlike you I can read the atmosphere, love." America's arms wrapped around England's waist and in a flash their positions were switched to have England pressed against the wall. The man would've noticed, but he became too busy as America's lips found his own in a flurry of need. England's one hand gripped the back of America's hair and the other his shirt as their lips opened and a battle for dominance began. America had a stronger sense of the kind of skills England possessed after yesterday's little incident and refused to lose this battle. England groaned as his mouth was invaded, allowing it this time.
"England." America murmured as he pulled away only to latch himself on England's neck and his hands slid easily in the opening on England's shirt to push the cloth away. England shuddered and lifted his chin to allow America more access, gasping. This was moving quickly, he recognized but he didn't feel the need to stop it. America's hand trailed down England's spine and pressed the man's hips forward. England understood and wrapped his legs around his waist as America's hands travelled to the elder nation's bottom to support him. England grabbed the back of America's head and yanked it. He wanted those lips.
America groaned and pressed forward more, tasting everything. England busied his hands that were aching to touch by unbuttoning the buttons he could reach on America's sleeping shirt. He only got about midway before his own body got in the way. He growled into America's mouth, displeased. America seemed to understand and pulled away from the wall. England gasped, startled and grabbed onto America's neck in fear of falling. America supported his weight and the two dropped onto the bed, bouncing lightly.
England unclasped his legs from America's waist and said, "Fuck, America. Warn me first." America dived to kiss a fiery trail down England's exposed chest, pausing as he reached the vertex of the shirt's neck.
"You wanted to move." He said meeting England's eyes and grinning. His eyes glittered with lusty joy. He was having the time of his life. England understood for if America had hidden his love for as long as he supposed he did then there was a reason to be so happy. He sat up and placed a chaste kiss on the man's lips before finishing his task from earlier. America took off the shirt and allowed it to drop to the floor before removing England's open shirt.
Their lips met again as England's arms wrapped tightly around America's neck and on drifted slightly down his back. America's knee came up and pressed his thigh into England's crotch, causing the man to gasp in pleasure. Shit, was he already that hard? He hadn't realized. America grinned at the sound and kissed the moan that tried to escape from the English man's lips as he rubbed against his crotch again. "That's payback from yesterday." He said.
England gave a withering glare. "I wasn't even in control of my actions, git." He brought his foot up to dig against America's own crotch, eliciting a groan from the man. He smirked. Apparently he wasn't the only one already extremely hard. "And that was payback." America looked slightly irked and knocked the foot away before swiftly removing England's underwear. England's eyes widened at his sudden reveal and America smirked before it fell. His eyes traveled the expanse of England's exposed body slowly down and then back up. England frowned under his scrutiny and felt a little self-conscious. He didn't understand why he was so nervous about this kind of thing with America.
America's eyes finally found his again and he chuckled. England's face flared in anger. "What?" He demanded. If America was laughing at his size, there was no way in hell this was going to happen.
"It's just, it's kind of strange to know that the kid you've been taking care of grew into this." He motioned with his head to England's body and then planted a soft kiss on his lips. "It's kind of a cool feeling knowing he grew to be so beautiful."
England's face went from red with anger to red with embarrassment. How romantically cheesy! He looked away. "W-well now you know how I feel." America blinked and then looked at himself. His fingers trailed down the crevice of England's pectorals and slight abs and past his naval.
"I guess you're right." England's head snapped back as he felt those fingers brush rough hair and touch him. He gasped lightly at the touch as the fingers followed it to the tip and he bucked. America chuckled and went back down to follow the motion back up again. England's body again involuntarily bucked.
He glared. "Stop teasing!" America just laughed more, enjoying himself. He leaned forward again and caught England's lips. England bit the man's bottom lip to show his lack of appreciation towards the teasing touch. He liked the teasing, but he would rather have that hand be put to use in a more productive way. America, as if understanding (although that was impossible), wrapped his hand fully around England and began stroking him. England broke the kiss to tilt his head back loving the feel of America's slightly calloused hand on him. America took advantage of the open neck and made a hickey on it before proceeding to make another.
England's toes curled. "America." He gasped, his nails digging a little into America's back. "Fuck, America. Just like that." He murmured. He could feel his climax just moments away if America would just keep that pace up, but America had other plans. He stopped. England growled at him, glaring. America just shook his head and slipped his thumbs beneath the hem of his pants and boxers.
"Sorry England, but I can't wait anymore." He pulled off his last articles of clothing and tossed them. England's breathing thickened some at the sight. He hadn't paid attention to America's body as a child nor while he was a ghost. America was right, it was a strange but prideful feeling knowing that the child you raised grew into such a beautiful specimen.
England pushed America down and crawled on top of him to furiously kiss him, his lust renewed ten-fold. America wrapped his arms around England's back and slid both hands down to grope his ass, grinding their bodies together. "God, England." He breathed, blue eyes filled with want. England sat up and crawled to the edge of the bed to begin rifling through the drawers. He came up with the lube and turned back to America while uncapping it. Their eyes met each other and after a moment England decided what he wanted, squeezing some of the jelly onto his hand and coating his fingers. America sat forward more.
"What are you doing? I'm going to-" He reached for the tube, but England smacked his hand away.
"I'm doing it myself."
"What! But England-"
"Have you had sex with a man before?" He demanded. America paused.
"Well, no, but-"
"Then I'm not risking my pain if you improperly prepare me." He told him and spread his knees to reach between his thighs. He closed his eyes as he penetrated himself and grit his teeth as he entered a second finger quickly. America swallowed thickly, enraptured. England slid a third finger into himself and searched himself for the gland that would make this worth it. It didn't take him long, knowing his own body, and he shuddered in pleasure. He was moving quickly to stretch himself, but he had dealt with worse pain before and he knew that America had little patience.
America's fingers twitched, wanting to grab onto the hips in front of him. England was teasing him, he was sure of it. God he looked magnificent with his face flushed with pleasure with his emerald eyes hazy with lust and his fingers inside of himself. America followed the sight of a bead of sweat from England's chest to his stomach before he couldn't wait any longer. He was going to explode if he didn't have England that moment.
England's eyes flew open as he was shoved backwards onto the bed and his fingers were removed. His time had run out. America's lips attached themselves to his greedily as the younger man groped for the lube. England refused to hand it to him and instead squirted the lube onto his own hand and wrapped it around America's arousal. America gasped at the cool shock of it and England took over the kiss as he covered his partner. After he felt that America was sufficiently lubricated, he wiped the excess off onto the bed and tossed the tube to the side.
America grabbed England's thighs and lifted them up. He met England's eyes and smiled. "You know I love you, right?"
"You practically screamed it at me yesterday, love." England stated but smiled back.
"'Cause I don't want this to be a onetime thing." His face turned serious. England chuckled.
"What kind of man do you think I am? I don't have one night stands with people I care about." He shifted his hips. "Now do hurry up. I don't know how much longer I can take." America nodded and pressed his lips to England's as he slowly began to slide himself inside of the older man. England rolled his eyes at the caution. He wasn't a virgin, after all. His legs wrapped around America's hips and he forced America's hips forward, impaling himself fully with a groan of pain and pleasure.
"Fuck, England!" America moaned, his head on England's shoulder. His body trembled lightly.
"Don't hesitate, America. You're not going to hurt me." He told him, wiggling a little as sparks of pleasure as America brushed against his prostate. America sat up more to kiss him and grabbed England's hips.
"I'll hold you to that, England." He warned him and pulled out almost all of the way before thrusting back in swiftly. England's back arched with a cry as America hit right where he needed to.
"Oh god!" He screamed as it happened again. His arms wrapped around America's neck as America picked the pace up. "Yes! America!"
"Alfred…" America gasped between a thrust.
"What?" England asked, pausing.
"Alfred." America repeated, pressing a kiss to England's ear as he whispered into it.
England pushed his head away and glared heatedly. "Are you calling another man's name while you're with me?" He demanded, furious. Someone was going to die if that was true.
America blinked, pausing his thrusting. "No, no!" He smiled. "It's my name. Alfred. Alfred F. Jones." England stared at him, shocked. This was the first time anyone was telling him their human name. America trusted him that much. That 'F' seemed a bit pointless, though.
"Alfred." England said. America's eyes widened a little and he kissed him furiously.
"Again." He whispered with a thrust. England groaned.
"Alfred." He repeated. America kissed him again.
"What's your name, England?" He questioned, looking about ready to eat his partner. England smirked, wondering why he would want to continue to talk in such a state.
"Arthur. My name is Arthur Kirkland." He told him.
"Arthur." America mimicked. England's eyes widened and a shudder ran through him, feeling the power his own name had over him. It felt great hearing it from America's lips. America leaned into his ear and began thrusting into him again. "Arthur!" He gasped and England clung to America feeling completely exposed for the first time in a long time.
He felt his end approaching quickly now that they had sped up and clung tighter to America for an anchor. He could only hear the sounds of love-making and America calling his name. England found himself answering the calls with America's own name. He opened his eyes to see America above him, his face dripping with sweat and his eyes squeezed tightly shut in concentration. His eyes then snapped open and focused on him, glimmering with an emotion England could only classify as love. "Arthur." He said and England couldn't take it anymore and he climaxed with a cry, his back arching. America's eyes squeezed shut again and pulled England as close as he could as he released as well. The two were silent with their breaths deep as they came down from the highs of their climax and America came to a natural stop before pulling out of his lover and rolling over next to him.
"Damn." America finally said after a long moment of silence as they gathered themselves again. He turned his head to look at England who met his look. He grinned. "Good?"
England flushed a little and looked away. "I suppose." He told him, not wanting to admit just how happy he was. This man knew his human name. He had power over him. But England also knew America's human name.
"It was strange taking care of you when you were a kid, you know. You're a handful." He tucked his arms under his head. England sat up and looked himself over. He wanted a shower.
"I'm a handful? It came from you spoiling the child so much." He informed him.
"I didn't spoil you!" America denied.
England rolled his eyes. "You allowed him to have a unicorn doll that was quite obviously for little girls, you allowed him to bathe with you and sleep with you whenever he wanted, and he wouldn't have attacked Japan if you hadn't allowed him to think that you had to entertain him every second of the day." He told him.
"Hey, I'm new at the whole 'raising a kid' thing! And I let you bathe and sleep with me because you were just a kid and it was easier to bathe you when you were in the tub with me! And I didn't know you thought of it that way that I was 'yours' or something! Also, why are you speaking as if he wasn't you?" He sat up.
"That's because I was more of a ghost outside of the body. I had no control over the child." He then remembered something and turned to America with a frown. "How long have you had those nightmares, America? And I never knew that when I was supporting the Confederacy for a while that it was actually a…whole new country."
America's eyes darkened a little. "I didn't realize you would remember such a thing." England scooted closer to him and placed a hand on his cheek.
"I saw you wake up more times to vomit or cry than I would care to recount." He admitted. America looked away. "Is it true what Canada said, about your nightmares starting up whenever you and I don't meet for a long period of time?" America didn't answer. England turned his head back to face him. "Answer me, love."
"Look, I don't exactly want to talk about it, but yeah. Occasionally the nightmares will start up whenever I don't see you." America answered grudgingly.
"Is that why you invade my house on some occasions?"
England sighed and pulled America down into a kiss. "You should've told me. You're not the only one who has nightmares, just like Prussia said. We all have them."
"I didn't know that you were the trigger, though." America wrapped his arms around England's waist and kissed him again.
"Anytime they start up again, then come to visit me." England told him. "And I'll try to visit you more."
America grinned. "You'd better, considering you're my boyfriend!"
He blushed a little. "Well, yes."
"Also," America pressed his lips against England's neck, "what about you moving in with me, hm? You were insistent before."
"I-I was a child!" England objected. America just laughed and tackled him down onto the bed.
"I'll just have to tell your boss that you're going to be living here from now on!"
"Alfred!" England reprimanded. America sobered up a little at his name before he smiled gently.
"Arthur, I love you."
England turned his head away. "Jeez, I love you too." He murmured.
A/N: Jeez, I just do not know how to end stories. =_=; Oh well. Sorry for a crappy ending, but I hope you enjoyed the story over all! Once again, thanks for staying with me! I have an idea that I may pursue for the next story, but I don't really know. Like I mentioned, any ideas and I might do them. :D