The broken Spaniard sat on the floor, tired, weak, and vulnerable. You can count the scars on his bare chest. Some, bloodier than others. He reeked of salt water and blood. His long brown hair was messier than usual, in a long ponytail. His usual bright, green eyes showed a hatred, coldness towards the world. He breathed deeply, and hoarsely. His heartbeat was fain. His wrists were tied above his head, bounded so he wouldn't escape. Indeed, this was "Spain".

The cell door in front of Spain swung open, letting in a flood of light, blinding him. Along came his enemy, the pirate England. He had his pirate stuff on, including a lot of jewels and necklaces hanging from his neck in a sort of halo. He had a sword and pistol in his buckle. He had a wicked smile on his face.

"Well, it seems you've been captured again, Espana," the pirate chuckled, closing and locking the door behind him. The room was dark again.

"Hola, Senor England," Spain said with sarcasm, "long time, no see."

"Indeed it has."

Spain felt his throat go dry and his palms get sweaty. He gritted his teeth. He did not belong here. He needed to lead his Armada. He needed to get out.

"You eyes," the Pirate pointed out.
England knelt down and lifted the Conquistador's chin. Spain flinched. It wasn't that England's fingers were cold. They were surprisingly warm. This worried the hell out of Spain.

"Que pasa con ellos?" Spain smirked.

"They aren't there usual, cocky selves!" England laughed, as if amused, "they look dead, Spain! Dead!"

"Bastard," Spain mumbled.

England's laughter faded like Spain's strength. Slowly. Suddenly, England traced his finger down the Spaniard's scarred chest. He winced every time England pushed onto a scar. He did not like this at all. It hurt so much. Hadn't England put him through enough? England pushed harder on one of the bloodier scars and Spain screamed.

"Shut up!" England slapped a hand over Spain's mouth, "do you want me to hurt you more?"

"Please, stop it!" Spain cried out.

"You are in no position to tell me what to do," England smiled twistedly.

There was something in his voice that made Spain's stomach unsettle. It was almost...seductive. And Spain was falling for it. He felt his heartbeat way faster now. His breathing was faster, too. He felt his body tighten up. Finally, England's fingers touched Spain's trembling lips.

"How long I've waited to taste these soft lips of yours," Spain heard England say with his seductive English accent.

England pressed his own lips onto his prisoner's own. But, it was gentle. Spain's green eyes were wide open.

What the hell, he thought.

Then, England pressed harder, making Spain moan ever so softly, that Spain wasn't expecting it himself. Spain want to kick England so hard, but he couldn't find the strength. Or even the willpower. England's tongue started to push past Spain's lips and find it's way to Spain's mouth. While his tongue was in every part of Spain's mouth, Spain was still in shock, but he enjoyed it. Even though he didn't want to, he was. Eventually, England released, and left the poor Spaniard finding his breath while being completely turned on at the same time.

"Son of a bitch," Spain gasped out.

"What? You didn't enjoy it?" England whispered in Spain's ear, making the country of passion's heart melt.

"S-si," Spain stuttered.

"I thought so, because..."

"Que?"

England faced Spain face to face. Their noses were touching and he swore that England to hear him breathing hard. England undid Spain's handcuffs and put one of his hand's on his own black heart. Spain felt it beating hard.

"Te amo," England said in the rhythm of his own heartbeat.

Spain was speechless. Did this pirate bastard use his own language against him? With the same words he loved to use? Is this some part of a sick game he's playing? Spain hated having his feelings being played with. But something in England's voice said it was genuine. Like...real. But all that England fed Spain was lies. But this was different. This was...love.

"Show me," he breathed out

"What?" England looked confused.

"Show me," Spain repeated, "prove to me that you love me."

"Are you sure?"

"Is this the face of someone who isn't?" Spain used the same seductive voice as England. He actually wanted England to 'show him'.

"You got me turned on, Espana," England held Spain's chin with one hand and the other was used to undo Spain's pants.

"Makes both of us," Spain pushed England on the floor and kissed him hard. He also started down England's neck and chest.

"I should not have untied you," England's body tensed.

"Your fault, you untied an animal," Spain purred.

Spain took off his own shirt and undid his ponytail, "now that I know you're truly turned on and you aren't lying to me," he leaned against the wall, "I'm all yours."

"Oh, finally," England smirked.

England's tongue was all over the place, in Spain's mouth, on his ear, and even down his neck. Spain was clawing off England's shirt and it finally came off. He stroked the Pirate's chest. In return, England grabbed Spain's fine ass.

"Whoa," Spain said, " aren't you getting naughty, England? Down boy."

" Couldn't help it," England smiled, "I heard your ass is the best in the seven seas."

"Indeed it is," Spain gasped, "now shut up and kiss me, bastard."

Spain felt England's warm, and wet, lips touch. Spain was a turned on hot mess, but he didn't give two shit about it. England was too. He could tell.

It took a while, but England finished undoing Spain's pants and...you know.

"Oh, Dios!" Spain cried out, "England!"

"What?"
"A little more gentler please," Spain had tears coming down his face, "you're gonna split me in two."

"I asked you a half an hour ago if you were sure," England pointed out, "do you want to stop?"

"Like this?!" Spain smacked England, "Hell no!"

England licked the sweet tears of Spain, earning some moans in return, "as you wish."

After another hour and a half, Spain fainted and this freaked England out.

"Oh, fuck!" England yelled, "get up Spain! Spain!"

"So tired," Spain whimpered, "I think you just broke me."

England found his coat and put it over Spain. England put his own clothes back on and laid down next to Spain.

"Some night," England sighed.

"Si~"

"Get some sleep," England kissed Spain's forehead, "good night."

"Buenas noches," Spain mumbled and drifted for a long night's sleep.

It was so quiet, you could hear both heartbeats unified as one. Both the Pirate and the Conquistador were able to sleep that night, knowing that they were never going to talk about this...ever.