Bah livejournal is so confusing. I accidentally posted the second section before the first then had to split up the last section. This is so much easier! Hope you enjoy!
The Puritans were really sex repressed, America realized as he sipped on a drink, and because of them his people had been pretty chaste too. Blue and green lights flashed illuminating the moving bodies on the dance floor. His citizens had recently been going through a bit of a sexual revival.
A breathy voice blared from the speakers, "I've got a sex drive. Push to start."
America grinned into his whiskey, hell yeah push to start. A girl walked by. She had these golden legs that went up to her eyes and the tiniest fuckin skirt. America grinned, that strip of cloth would have been considered underwear to any of the older nations. Alfred was really appreciating that view. He hadn't quite gotten the balls up to get onto the dance floor yet. The only kind of dancing his citizens did now was grinding.
And America wasn't quite ready to join his citizens yet.
The world conference was in London this time and Alfred was running late, as usual. Two white ear buds were plugged into his ears. The meeting wasn't really on his mind though. His people were still getting in touch with their sexuality and it was rubbing off on him.
His clothes had gotten tighter, shorter. His pants hung low on his hips, bits of skin peeking out. Mindlessly Alfred traced the steps to the conference room. Pitbull's International Love was blaring in his ears. America was mouthing along, eyes closed. Without realizing it, Alfred had made his way all the way into the meeting room. All of the nations eyes were glued to his. France was drooling. England was scowling.
Hips swinging, his voice crowed out, "I don't play foot ball, but I've touched down everywhere!" He bobbed his head along with the music only he could hear.
"I've been to countries and cities I can't pronounce. And the places on the globe I didn't know existed. In Romania she pulled me to the centre she said Pit you can have me and my sister…"
Alfred's singing was cut off by a loud screech, "CEEA CE?"*
The blonde superpower opened his eyes to see 100 pairs of eyes staring him down and one Romania stalking towards him.
"My women would never touch you with a ten foot pole, you vile Scroafă!"* Romania screamed.
America blinked down at the small, dark haired nation. "Huh," was all he said.
Bulgaria appeared behind his brother and dragged him away from the superpower. Romania struggled a bit, but stopped when his brother bobbed him over the head. He settled for giving Alfred an evil glare.
"Sup guys? Were you waiting for me?" America asked, "Well let's get this meeting started!" America bounced to the front of the room. His black boxers on full display for the world to see.
"America!" England yelled, "Pull up your trousers! What has gotten into you?"
Alfred looked back over his shoulder and shrugged before flouncing up to the podium. He didn't pull up his pants. France smirking, "oh mon petit Amerique,"* the long haired nation licked his lips.
England turned to him and snarled, "stop staring, you perverted frog!"
France glanced at England before looking back to America, but the podium was covering up his lower half now. He sighed at the loss before leering at England, "your little brother has grown up very nicely."
England's face scrunched up and he punched the Frenchmen.
Beads of water dripped down his naked skin. Steam clouded up the mirror. Alfred rolled his hips.
"I'm sexy and I know it!" He belted out the song. England was out at the store so he didn't have to worry that his house guest would hear or see him. The G20 meeting was in a few days so the older nation was staying with him.
His people had been so focused on sex recently. It was obvious in the way they dressed, apparent in the movies, and undeniable in the music. If Alfred hadn't gone through puberty already he'd say that it was happening now. He just couldn't seem to get sex off his mind.
"Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, yeahhh," he moaned as he shimmied into his underwear. He cranked the knob on his ihome and let the music blast. Dancing, he headed into the kitchen for a mid-morning cup of coffee.
"Girl look at that body!" Alfred sang, "I work out!" He licked his hand and ran it down his bare chest. Shattering glass broke him from his serenade. Alfred whirled around. England was staring at his mouth open and eyes glazed.
"I'm sexy and I know it…" the song played on even though Alfred wasn't singing anymore.
"Jesus, England!" Alfred hollered, "I thought you were out."
England mumbled something about having forgotten something. His eyes weren't looking at Alfred's face. America looked down to see if their was something wrong with his chest. When he looked back up to ask what was wrong, England was gone. Only the bits of the shattered coffee cup were left.
"It's really no big deal England," Alfred said, "we're both going to the same place anyway. It'd be silly for us to go separately."
England grumbled and looked out the window. Strip malls, neon signs and apartment buildings zipped by. Alfred just shrugged and turned on the radio. The two were heading into New York City for a G20 meeting.
The sound of something like ice shaking and an almost whiny voice crooned, "Make me your radio. 'N turn me up when you feel low." England looked over to the consul before looking up at America. It was a sweet thought. The green eyed blonde opened his mouth, but closed it without saying anything. Alfred was tapping his fingers against the steering wheel quietly.
"This melody was meant for you. So sing along to my stereo." The song faded out and another voice came on. It started out slow and England didn't realize how dirty the lyrics were until the chorus came on.
"Birthday sex, birthday sex, birthday sex," the singer repeated.
England's ears went bright red. He must be hearing this wrong… but no as he listened to the low drawl of the words he realized he was most definitely not wrong. But the beat was slow and if he didn't listen to the words then it wasn't so bad…
"Birthday sex, birthday sex, birthday sex."
England shifted and peered over at Alfred. The boy was acting like nothing was wrong! He was still tapping along to the song. After a moment Arthur realized that he was mouthing along to the lyrics.
"Birthday sex, birthday sex, birthday sex. It's the best day of the year," America mouthed. Those lips formed those words so well. Arthur couldn't help but imagine them doing other things… His eyes glazed over. Those sky eyes looking up at him. Those pink lips wrapped around-
"Change this!" Arthur commanded, but before he could give Alfred the chance he was reaching over to switch the dial himself.
Static filled the car with the occasional sound of a mariachi band breaking through.
"Yes," England nodded firmly, "this is perfect."
Alfred looked at him like he'd grown another head, but didn't say anything. Yes, this was much better than that sex filled auditory garbage, England thought.
Alfred laughed as a Katy Perry song came on. Aliens and sex! His people really were the most awesome citizens!
"Wanna be a victim ready for abduction," Alfred sang out with the rest of the crowd.
He was bouncing in place, not really moving his hips. France was with him in the crowd. A bead of sweat trickled down Alfred's neck. Quickly a finger swiped at it. Blinking, Alfred looked over to France. The older nation just grinned going back to grinding his hips into the brunette in front of him.
Alfred smiled, it was nice to have someone with him on the dance floor. It made him feel less self conscious. Alfred looked over to the bar. England was pounding back a beer with enthusiasm. Canada was sitting next to him looking worried. When the song ended Alfred bounced over to save his brother. He was so heroic!
France looked up as Alfred left the dance floor and pouted until he saw what was happening at the bar. Alfred had Canada's hand and was pulling him out onto the dance floor.
Alfred smiled to his brother, "Let's dance!" When Canada shook his head no, America laughed, "it'll be fun come on!" The super power ignored his former caretakers objections to him taking away Canada.
"And there is no pressure cuz we're brothers!" America smiled, it was the perfect solution!
"YEAH! OK!" was growled over the loud speakers and the crowd went wild.
Canada nodded hesitantly and let himself be pulled out onto the floor. When the two made their way back to France, Alfred let Canada fall behind him. It was only heroic to let Canada be the guy in their dance since he was so reluctant and all.
"Yeah, yeah shorty got down low and said come and get me," Usher sang. The twins were flush against each other.
Alfred moved his hips swivel and felt his brother trying to follow. America looked over his shoulder and grinned at him. He brought his arms up over his head and skimmed them down his sides. The beat thrummed in him and American thrust in time with it. His brother mimicking his motions. Alfred's skin was sweaty from all the dancing he had been doing. He closed his eyes and felt his boarders under his skin. Canada's chest was plastered against the Rockies.
He heard France, "hon, hon, hon," next to him and opened his eyes to see him fondling his dance partners chest. The brunette looked like she enjoyed it because she reached around to grab his ass. France made eye contact with Alfred and smirked. His eyes met Alfred's in a challenge. What kind of challenge Alfred didn't know, but he did know he'd win. He was the friggin' United State of America, he never lost.
The song changed and Canada slowed his movements and Alfred let him go without to much of a fight. He danced solo. His eyes were glued to France still locked in their silent challenge. Alfred rolled his hips the way India had taught him and raised his hands so they twined above his head.
"Now rock you're body. Damn I like the way that you move."
Alfred could feel the rhythm in his chest. France shook off the brunette. She looked angry and stalked away from France giving him a death stare the entire time. France slid over to Alfred smirking.
"Here the situation. Been to every nation nobody's ever made me feel the way that you do."
Alfred laughed at the lyrics of the new song. The young nation smiled and let France take the lead. He didn't mind giving up control for this. He always had to be in control for everything else. This, this he could let some else lead.
France rolled his hips against Alfred's and the younger nation could feel a bulge that was (thankfully) missing when he was dancing with his brother earlier. Heat bloomed across Alfred's skin. France's hands rolled down America's side. Alfred pushed himself back on that hard body. Freakin hell, he was horny. His dick was half hard. He wanted to get off. This was totally a second puberty as far as Alfred was concerned. The young superpower panted, continuously rolling your hips wasn't as easy as girls made it seem. He felt hair tickle at the crook of his neck and hot breath on his ear.
Just as he was about to tilt his head to let that warm mouth down on his skin, Alfred felt two small hands grab his and pull. Alfred opened his eyes to see a scowling Arthur. Alfred let himself be tugged away from France.
"He's mine," Arthur snarled at the long haired blonde. Alfred looked over Arthur's shoulder to see France frown then shrug before wandering away to find another partner. Alfred felt a tiny bit stung to be discarded so easily.
Arthur stared up at Alfred. They were the only two not dancing people in the crowd. Alfred looked into Arthur's dark eyes. He had been enjoying dancing with Francis. It'd be awkward to dance with Arthur… him being so short and all. The blue eyed nation frowned.
"Let's have some fun this beat is sick. I wanna take a ride on your disco stick," a new song was playing.
England stepped forewords until one of his legs were in between America's. Eyes widening, Alfred let his hands settle on England's waist. England's hands tangled themselves in his hair. The two started grinding face to face. The shorter man set a fast pace. Hips snapping and rolling.
He was saying something too quietly for Alfred to hear so he bent his head down, "my boy," Arthur slurred, "'s mine. St'pid frog. 'mer'ka's mine."
Alfred kept dancing with England through several songs. He was flushed and horny and hoping that maybe the old nation would be willing to put out tonight. America wouldn't mind. Not at all. But for now he'd take what he could get.
Suddenly he felt more weight against his chest. He didn't stop his dancing, assuming that England was just really into it. After a moment though he realized that the shorter man wasn't really moving, just kinda laying against him.
Alfred's brows furrowed and he poked Arthur's cheek. He was still and that is when Alfred realized it. Arthur had passed out! Rolling his eyes, Alfred hauled England over to his brother sitting at the bar. Apparently he and England would not be getting it on tonight.
Ceea Ce- what
my little America
Now you've read! Review?
Return to Top