Work Text:
Title: Preferences
Author: Triste
Fandom: Hetalia
Pairing: America/England
Rating: NC-17
Status: Complete
Disclaimer: Not mine
~~
England looked like he wasn’t sure whether to be livid or mortified. America, on the other hand, didn’t feel the least bit guilty for what he’d done.
“You...” England said, his face a shade of red America couldn’t recall ever seeing before (and England had blushed an awful lot for him over the years), his index finger pointing accusingly. “You... you... *pervert*!”
“Hey,” America said, insulted. “I’m not the one with all the sex toys.”
England’s blush darkened. “You weren’t supposed to find them! What on earth possessed you to go searching in the first place?”
“I was trying to find a stapler.”
“In my *bedroom*?” England took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Look, just put them back, all right? We’ll talk about this later.”
America was far too stubborn to let the matter drop, temporarily or otherwise. “Why do you even have these things?” He hadn’t thought it possible for England to get any redder, but England proved him wrong.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Well, no. Aren’t you supposed to be my partner? You shouldn’t need anyone – or anything – else.”
England sighed. America could tell he was trying to be calm and rational about this. “That’s true. But, I did have to suffer through more than a century of celibacy before you decided to put me out of my misery.”
“That was then, this is now,” America argued. “Why do you still have them? Do you use them?” England didn’t answer. “You do, don’t you?”
America was upset, and rightly so. America knew England was a closet pervert but he’d never actually expected to find solid proof of it. The items in the box he’d found under England’s bed (there had to have been better hiding places than that, surely) were the kind of things America would have expected someone like France to own, not England. England tended to get flustered over any allusions to sex, no matter how subtle. He couldn’t even say the word ‘cock’ without getting embarrassed. It made any attempts at dirty talk in bed next to impossible.
That wasn’t the only issue. America ignored England’s orders, threats and eventual pleas to stop in favour of rifling through the box’s contents. He had to raise an eyebrow at one of the dildos he pulled out.
“How often do you use this one?” America asked.
England stubbornly refused to meet his gaze. “That is none of your business.”
But it was America’s business, especially since the sheer size of the damn toy was beginning to make him feel somewhat inferior. America wasn’t used to being inferior. He wasn’t quite as well endowed as what he was currently holding in his hands, but he was content with what he’d been blessed with. He’d never had any complaints before, certainly not from England, but now he wasn’t so sure.
America looked at the toy. He looked at England. He tried imagining England using it. The mental image should have been a pleasing one but it wasn’t.
“It’s bigger than mine,” he sulked.
“Oh for Christ’s sake,” England said irritably. "Stop feeling threatened by an inanimate object.”
“Do you wish I were this big?” America wanted to know.
“What?” England frowned in exasperation. “No, of course not. You’re perfectly fine as you are. Besides, you know what they say. It’s not the size of it, it’s what you do with it that counts.”
“Then why do you have one this huge? That’s a lot of dong for your buck.”
“It’s not huge! It’s only... slightly larger than average. Don’t act like I’m cheating on you. You’re the one that I always think of when I... you know.”
America didn’t feel any less unhappy after hearing what England had probably attempted as words of comfort. “Is sex with me really so unsatisfying?”
“It’s very satisfying,” England reassured him. “I just get lonely sometimes when you’re not around. And, well, there is quite an age gap between us. You’re considerably younger than I am. For all intents and purposes, you’re still an overeager teenager. A more mature gentleman like myself needs a little extra... stimulation.”
“Are you implying I don’t know how to please you properly?”
“I never said that! You and I have different preferences. That’s all. I prefer a slow build up, and you prefer getting straight into the action.”
“In other words, I have no stamina.” America pursed his lips. “How come you never told me this sooner?”
“It’s not exactly the easiest subject to broach.” England managed a tentative smile. “On top of that, you’re more sensitive about some things than you are others. Like your weight, for example.”
“Great,” America groused. “As well as being bad in bed I’m also fat. No wonder you find your precious sex toys more appealing than me. You probably fake your orgasms just to keep me happy.” He cocked his head. “Wait, can guys even do that?”
“You’re not fat,” England soothed.
“But I’m heavier than you are.”
“You’re taller than I am. That’s how nature works itself out.”
“You’ve never had to worry about your weight. You and Japan are the thinnest people I know.”
“That’s because – and I quote – Japan eats food healthily, and in small portions. My cooking is poisonous, possibly radioactive. It’s more likely to make people lose weight, not gain it. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?”
America was appeased, but only slightly. England was trying to cheer him up by willingly admitting his one big weakness, his complete and utter inability to create a tasty and nutritious meal. He knew how much England hated having to do that, and how passionately he would defend his cooking from anyone else who dared insult it. For him to voluntarily criticise his own food must mean that he was feeling very bad on America’s behalf.
It was kind of sweet, really, but America hadn’t forgiven England yet. “Show me,” he said suddenly. “Teach me how to satisfy you.”
England’s eyes widened, his voice rising a good couple of octaves as he gawked the toy in America’s hands. “With *that*?”
“Yes, with this. I want to watch you using it.”
England seemed to be on the verge of panic. “But... but... I’ve only ever used it alone, under cover of darkness!”
“You’re not living in the Medieval Ages anymore,” America reminded him. “There’s no law against having sex in the day time, whether it’s with yourself or anyone else.”
England continued to resist. “I’ve never done it in front of an audience before.”
“Awesome. Then I’ll be your first.”
“It’s embarrassing!”
“And you’re a kinky old man. This sort of thing should be right up your street.”
Maybe it was cruel to put England on the spot, but America was determined to go through with his demands. In any case, they weren’t completely selfish. England would be getting something out of it, too.
“Come on,” America said softly, leaning in to brush his lips against the curve of England’s ear as he spoke, causing him to shiver in response. “Put on a show for me. Make it good for both of us.”
“I can’t. It won’t work. It never did with France and his stupid mutual masturbation marathons.”
“That’s because you hate France. But you love me. That’s what makes it different.”
It was surprisingly easy to manipulate England. You just had to take the right approach. America had learned this a long time ago. He’d become a master in capturing England’s attention from an early age. He hadn’t lost any of his skills over the years. If anything, he’d improved on them. A little adult persuasion could go a long way. The trick was making England feel secure enough to indulge America. That was why he began by kissing England, keeping it gentle and teasing to leave him wanting more.
“It’s okay,” America promised, brushing his thumbs lightly over England’s cheekbones. “It’s just the two of us. Let me see how sexy you are when you’re touching yourself.”
England remained doubtful. “You really want to watch something like that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” America kissed England again, only drawing away when England tried to deepen it. “Show me,” he repeated, soft and seductive. “Please.”
England didn’t look confident at all, but he nodded anyway. America gave him one last kiss before retreating to the chair by the window, getting comfortable. He decided to lead by example to make England feel surer of himself as he reached down and palmed the growing bulge in his pants, smiling encouragingly. England bit his lip, his whole body language radiating self-consciousness as he pulled his sweater vest over his head. His fingers fumbled as they unbuttoned his shirt, but it wasn’t much longer before he was naked from the waist up.
That was when he paused, casting a glance over at America as his hands rested on his belt buckle. America gave him the thumbs up sign. England sighed, his lips inching upwards ruefully, but he carried on undressing himself the rest of the way until he was completely nude.
America fondled himself idly, content to simply play the role of spectator for the time being. He would prove to England that he could be restrained when it suited him.
England wasn’t nearly as casual as he set about preparing for what would come next. He’d gone shy again, turning his face away from America as he reclined onto the mattress. America didn’t mind, although the impatience was beginning to stir in him already. He understood what England had meant earlier, when England had accused him of being overeager. Unlike him, England’s hands did not go straight to his cock. They went to his nipples instead, rubbing over them lightly at first, and then pinching them until they were hard.
“Is that what you like?” America asked. “Do you like it when people play with your nipples?” England nodded, still not looking at him. “I always thought that was just a girl thing.”
England laughed quietly. “Well, now you know.”
America licked his lips. “Does it feel good?”
“It would feel better if you were doing this instead of me.”
“Nuh-uh. You’re going to do it to yourself. That’s what we agreed, didn’t we?” America moved his hand away, concentrating on the way England increased the pressure on his nipple, tugging and twisting. “Do you like it like that?” America asked, his voice lowering to a whisper. “Do you like it when it hurts?”
England gave another nod, this one guilty. America swallowed hard. The temptation to start touching himself again was almost overwhelming.
“What else do you like? Nipple clamps? I bet you’d enjoy those.”
England actually groaned at that. America gripped the armrest of the chair to prevent his hands from wandering. He wondered what England would look like wearing clamps. America made a mental note to buy him a pair sometime, pretty ones, the kind with a chain attached to them.
America lost himself in thought briefly until the sound of England’s breathy moans brought him back. It was getting more and more difficult to stay put in the chair when he could so easily have been on the bed with England.
Patience, America told himself. He wouldn’t be much of a voyeur if he lost control and jumped England before he could get to the good part.
And it was getting good, as England finally reached for his cock. He was so gentle as he touched himself, his fingers gliding along his length in a barely-there caress. It was frustrating to watch. America wanted to tell England to speed up, to just get a move on and jerk off already like he would have done, but England kept it casual, moving at his own pace. His free hand went to his balls, cupping and rolling them, his breath coming faster and heavier the longer he toyed with himself.
America’s heart nearly skipped a beat when England removed both hands to slick his fingers, lifting his hips to tease them inside, first his middle finger, then his index finger.
Unable to hold back anymore, America yanked his fly down to release his dick, beating himself off with quick, rough strokes. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” he hissed.
“And you’re going to finish long before I do, at this rate,” England said, making a noise that sounded more of a moan than a laugh.
“I’m still young. I don’t have to limit myself to just one orgasm. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be able to get it up again.”
“Idiot. Don’t you know slow and steady wins the race?”
America was past caring at that point. Merely watching England fingering himself like this was enough to make him want to come, and he hadn’t even seen England use the dildo yet.
Pinching the base of his cock between his thumb and forefinger hard took the edge off America’s lust a little, at least so the fog in his mind could clear long enough to register the smirk England was sending his way. “Jerk,” he muttered. “You’re thinking that I don’t have any staying power, aren’t you?”
“That’s what cock rings are for,” England replied, sounding much too smug for America’s liking.
America wanted to grumble out something about seeing who lasted the longest, but he didn’t dare lay down the challenge verbally. England was too good at this, but then he was a closet pervert. He’d had plenty of time to hone his technique. Still, their little exchange, however unfavourably it had gone for America, gave England the confidence he needed to stop holding back and show America exactly what he did when he was alone. America forgot about getting himself off momentarily when England withdrew his fingers and set about lubing up the toy. This was what he’d been waiting to see, and England didn’t disappoint.
Mouth dry, America swallowed as England’s legs spread open and inviting as he guided the toy to his ass. He angled his hips, America staring all the while, unable to even blink at the way England’s body yielded to the intrusion.
England’s eyes were closed, thighs trembling, panting softly, the dildo fully seated inside of him. America had to remind himself to keep breathing, his knuckles going white from his ever-tightening grip on the armrests. England gasped, rocked his hips, moaned America’s name. America could have come just from that, from hearing the way England called for him, from hearing those little “mmm” and “ahh” noises he made.
His cock twitched, neglected, aching to be where the dildo was, but America didn’t dare touch it anymore for the simple reason that he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop once he’d started again. It was torture, but of the best possible kind, listening to the sounds England made, watching him fuck himself. There was something incredibly arousing about seeing his small frame taking something so large. America wondered what it would be like if he fucked England with it.
The temptation was just too great. America was out of the chair and on the bed before he knew it, the mattress dipping under his weight.
“I want,” he said, his throat tight around the words. “I want to...” He settled one hand over England’s, pushing the toy deeper and making England groan.
England let America take over, sliding his hand out from under America’s to curl around his cock. “America,” he moaned. “America, America, America.”
“How do you want this?” America asked, kissing his way along the inside of England’s right thigh, nuzzling his cheek against it and breathing in his scent. “Tell me what to do.”
“Harder,” England instructed.
America applied more force with his next thrust, and then he remembered the way England had played with his nipples earlier. The whimper England let out when America leaned up to bite at them sent a thrill rushing through him.
“Yes,” England panted, arching his head and baring his throat. “Just like that.”
He obviously didn’t want gentle anymore, not when he was tugging his cock briskly, or when he kept breathing out “harder, harder, please.” America wasn’t sure whether he meant the dildo or his nipples so he went with both, lips teeth and tongue busy with the torment of England’s nipples while America continued to fuck him with the toy, his body tightening and tensing as he shuddered in release under America.
America didn’t bother waiting for England to come down, just pulled the toy out and slid inside, England moaning weakly. America didn’t have to be considerate, could be as selfish as he wanted as he sought out his own orgasm, pounding away until his entire body seized up as pleasure surged through him, collapsing onto England with a blissful sigh.
“That,” he said, once he was able to speak, “was the best thing *ever*.”
“And you,” said England, squirming, “are heavy.”
“But I’m not fat.”
“I never said you were.”
America rolled onto his back lazily to let England clean things up a bit. “Hey,” he said suddenly, his attention drawn back to the toy. “Do you still have the catalogue where you purchased this thing from?”
England’s glance was wary. “May I ask why?”
“I want to order some stuff. You don’t mind, do you? Of course you don’t,” America added before England could get a word in edgeways. “You’re a pervert.”
“And you’re not?”
“Don’t worry, I’m getting there.” America grinned when England brought him what he’d asked for, flipping through the pages with great interest. “Say, what are these bead things like? I never figured there’d be such a variety of vibrators. Look, this one glows in the dark! We have to buy it!”
“Your childlike enthusiasm disturbs me,” England said dryly.
America didn’t hear him. He was too busy filling out the order form.
End.