A Failed Battle

England struggled beneath America, trying to compose himself. He should've known. He should've known what America wanted. This whore. His mind was saying no, but his body said otherwise. "P-Please A-America.. Lets just finish our work," His voice quivered. America could feel the slight pressure underneath him - a very noticeable pressure in which he knew England wasn't really going to stop him.

America leaned down, sucking on the side of England's neck. He nibbled and tucked at the soft skin with his teeth, leaving marks to show that he owned England. His hands ran through England's soft, silky blonde hair. America, the man obsessed with patriotism, aliens, and food, had seduced such a proper young male like England. England knew he'd be ridiculed for this erotic behaviour by other countries such as France and Scotland. "S-Stop..." England's cheeks reddened slightly, "Ah, bloody.." He bit his bottom lip hard, letting America roam hands all over his body. 

"America doesn't stop for anything, and I think you should have remembered that from the last couple of centuries," America smirked, staring into England's pleading green eyes. England nodded incoherently, unable to actually think properly. His hormones started kicking in fast and all he wanted was America to fuck him to oblivion - or vice versa. The green-eyed male gave it, holding America closer to him, letting his body take control over his mind. 

America grinned from his victory of winning England over. It's been forever since America wanted this. Yes, he was rebellious, yes, he wasn't always the best country... but did that stop him from loving what he thought was the best country in the world, England? He licked his lips and began to pull off his jacket and flannel shirt, unbuttoning every single button. To England, it was a tedious wait - wanting to see America's body, curious about what kind of figure really existed under his heavy jacket that he seemed to always wear. "You know, Arthur," He glanced up at England, knowing he said his real name, "I have to give it to you... I never really thought you'd want to actually be with me." His eyes trailed down back to his shirt, unbuttoning the last of the buttons. At last, the shirt was freely open - free for England to touch and see. 

England let out a small sigh. Saying his name so seductively... It was truly a blessing to hear that from the American's mouth. "Oh fuck off, I have more will than you would ever think of having," He glared slightly while pushing America off, making him stand against the desk, "And I think I'll have to show you how powerful my will can be." America's eyes widened slightly from the surprise push-off, but it only triggered him more to fuck England. America always had a kink for feisty guys. England finally touched America, massaging America's sides, roaming up to his chest and rubbing his thumbs against America's sensitive skin. America moved his hands up to England's face, pulling him in for another deep kiss. 

England closed his eyes, letting the rhythm catch on between the two and nibbled onto America's bottom lip, hoping to drive America crazy by the small little actions that could drive anyone insane. He had licked and tugged on America's bottom lip, giving it all the attention it could ever get. America pulled away, "Keep it in your pants," he joked but turned to a serious tone very quickly, "Until I say so." He flipped positions so suddenly, England couldn't react soon enough. England was trapped between America and the desk now. 'This scoundrel...' The British man glared.

America raised up England's shirt and England raised his arms for the shirt to come off. He let the shirt fall the the ground beside them, "You look even better than I imagined - and that's quite a good thing." America commented, leaning down and nipped at his earlobe. 

England felt slightly offended, "I hope that you imagined me quite well..." He felt his muscles stiffen from the attention to his earlobe. It was, indeed, arousing him, but he wasn't exactly used  to it. England really hasn't had a partner and technically this is his first time. (The other time was when France tried to force marriage and sex, but that didn't really turn out that well... they hate each other.) England has watched his fair share of porn here and there, but never had he had it "In Real Life." 

America smirked, "You've no idea." He gripped tightly onto England's clothed member, grinding his palm against him.

England took in a gasp, clenching his teeth in surprise, "You git... I swear to God.." He felt his cheeks redden again, "Just fuck me."

America grinned, pushing England back so that the male was laying his back on the desk. The younger male unbuttoned England's trousers, sliding them off his hips. The delicately sewn fabric slid down England's legs and fell to the floor. England kicked the trousers to the side and pulled America toward him so he wrapped his legs around him, "Fuck me hard." He whispered almost inaudibly. His mind was filled with nothing but pure lust. The air was heavy and both of them could feel it. 

"Now don't get hasty. Let's take it slow." The younger palmed England softly. Teasing him. Torturing him. England curled his fingers into a fist. His thick muscle begged for more, needing more than just simple touches. America's hands cupped England's bulge, tightening his grip, "Or, just take it my way... You see, England," America grinned mischievously, "I have this side of me.. Where, I like taking control of someone..." His voice got dark, "I like to hurt them... not too much, but to make them know they are mine." He squeezed England's member harder.

England bit his bottom lip hard, "Ah, fuck.. America." He closed his eyes tightly, needing the younger to let go. It was hurting. The pain, though, didn't seem all that bad. He... He kind of liked it. "Well you'll have to fight for that freedom... I won't let you do this without a fight." England gave a small smirk, pushing America off. He sat up from the desk and stood up, walking toward America. The elder pushed him against the window, not caring about if anyone could see or not (which shouldn't be a problem since the office was held on the fifth floor). He pulled off America's already unbuttoned shirt, then pinned him against the solid surface. 

America felt his heart skip a beat. This is the first time that the other partner in his sex life had actually challenged him. Gave him some thrill and excitement. Damn, England must've watched some good porn. America sarcastically thought. He let England feel him up, take his clothes off... whatever the Brit felt like doing, he'd let him. 

England had felt America. He touched him, running his fingertips over the abs that America surprisingly had. He let his lips touch America's skin, kissing the small dip in his collarbone. Sucking softly, he trailed his lips over his chest, and left soft, small kisses down his abs. The British man stopped at the jeans, unbuttoning them and letting them fall to the ground. 

His mouth enveloped the clothed erection of America's, letting the wetness tease America back and the heat to radiate torturous waves of pleasure onto the sensitive skin. He hummed against the bulge, using his mouth as a vibrator. America's face slightly reddened, trying to keep his game face on. England was making him melt. "England.. Just suck me already!"

The green-eyed British man stopped teasing and looked up at the desperate rebel towering him. 'If I didn't want to fuck him so badly, I would keep doing this...' England thought to himself before listening to America, pulling down the garment and letting America be free. America sighed in relief - it really sucked having such a muscle restrained like that for a long time. It was not comfortable at all. England gripped tightly around him, quickly pumping him. England spit on his member, giving a little lube so it was more pleasurable to the younger. He looked up at America, giving the most sexual look that one could make. It was extremely hot, too, so America thought. 

"Faster, England. Tighter.." He bite his lip, looking at England try hard to pleasure him. England nodded, tightening a little bit, pumping him hard and fast. America tilted his head back against the wall, slowly becoming unable to stand with so much pleasure receiving such an area.

England stopped the pumping motion, making America groan, "I don't want you to come, yet." His British accent came through strongly. He leaned up and kissed America softly on the lips, "I can't believe you are making me do this, love. Who knew you had the skill to seduce me, like you did?" England, without a second glance, turned away and slid into his shirt again, "It was a good try though, I must admit." He slid on his jacket that was on the chair and looked at America in pity, "God, you are mighty sexy."

America's face reddened, "What are you doing?! W-Why are you leaving?" He pulled his pants up and began to walk toward the Brit, "You can't just leave me like this!"

England felt guilty, but he had to leave. He couldn't go through with this act of lust. He promised himself he couldn't just have sex with someone. It had to be from love. He slid on his shoes, ignoring America, and left the office without another word. Hastily finding his way out of the building, he bumps into Italy, "Pardon me," He keeps his stern expression stable while he continues walking. 

His heart pounded from nervousness and the close call he had with America. You thick-skulled mongrel. Did you really you could do such a scandalous act? England felt himself start to shatter. He knew better. America was going to spread the word like a wildfire.

England walked back to his apartment that was two blocks away from his work. He shut the door behind him, staring at his empty, dark space in front of him. "Fucking idiot!" He yelled,  throwing his jacket to the side. He let himself do that with America. He knew better than that. After what France did, he never recovered fully. His eyes were building up with tears. How he kept such a  façade, he didn't know. He didn't want to upset America too much, but he couldn't just tell America that he couldn't go any further. America would ridicule him, push him aside... or force England to do what he wanted. 

~

"What the hell..." America was fully clothed, also leaving the office. His hair was tousled in such a way that suggested certain ideas... 

"Ah! America! Did you see England lately? He seems to be in a foul mood. I bumped into him earlier when he left... I feel like something bad happened to him." Italy frowned from playing back the small memory.

America gave a nervous smile, "W-Well.. I don't know, really. Man, I never really seen him toda-"

"Why is your hair so messy today? Are you trying a new look? It doesn't fit you. Really, you look like a bum.." Italy interrupted, "And I thought you were with him today. Did you upset him? You do know that England is a fragile being, especially after that incident with France." Italy rambled off.

America stopped Italy's chitchat, "Wait. What happened to England with France?" Was there something that happened while he wasn't around? Maybe a long time ago? Well if you weren't so full of yourself with your celebrities and fast food, maybe you would know what is happening in the real world. 

"Well, I can't really say if you don't know. I don't want to tell England's personal information.." Italy tried to smile off his mistake of telling England's secret. 

America sighed. It must be bad... he had to go talk to England about this. "Alright, thank you anyway, Italy. Have a nice day," He patted Italy's head and walked out of the building. America just wanted to have fun with his friend that he liked. Mostly, he just wanted to get closer to him. He wanted to love England and have him. It was hard for him to express his emotions of love, so it usually turned out to show in lust. 

"Arthur..." America knocked on the elder's door, "Can I come in?"

There was a faint sobbing that came from the apartment. It was England, drying himself off from taking a shower, feeling that he was just covered in impurities from what he started with America. 

"Arthur, are you okay?" He knocked again. 

"I-I'll be there soon. Hold on..." England replied, changing into comfortable clothes. He silently cursed at himself for answering Alfred. How was this going to go down? England opened the door, "America... come in.." He dried off his hair with his towel, "Would you like some tea or something?" He offered, trying to break the ice.

"I'm good... thanks." America followed England to the small living room. The question urged him so he asked, "What happened between you and France?"

England almost tripped over the coffee table, "E-Eh?" He sat down beside Alfred, "Well... uh.. " His face flushed.