"Hey England! You don't usually call me, 'sup?"
"On two conditions." England interrupted.
"Dude, anything! Besides the food, your parties usually rock!" America stated excitedly.
England growled at the food comment but continued. "One, you can't talk about the party with anyone else before it happens."
"Duuuude!" America began to complain.
"I don't need a repeat of Prussia, Spain, and," there was a pause before the last name was sneered, "France bringing 'party favors' and spiking the drinks.... Again."
".... Alright...." So much for my plan to team cosplay with Canada and Japan just to tick off England.....
"And Two, you have to wear something related to pirates that has NOTHING to do with the captain himself. I want to see how badly your stupid Hollywood has changed the actual clothes from my time."
America could practically hear the smirk as England, once again, proved his ancient age.
"Do I need to repeat myself, lad?"
"What was that, Cabin Boy?"
Wow.... England really was getting into the entire pirate thing... "No, Captain Kirkland, sir." America replied to appease the old man.
England made a single chuckle. "Good lad, then ye be invited t'me ship fer tonight."
The phone cut off before America muttered "Show off..."
America did one last check over his costume as he stepped out of his "red abomination" as England (not so secretly) called it.
His baggy white shirt didn't cling to his frame but it made up for that by having a very low V-cut in the neck to reveal most of his collar bone and the very top of his chest to the world. The sleeves ended in ragged cuffs that clung to his wrists only.
He opted to go with out a belt and sword, to show more of the cabin boy spirit, but that didn't stop him from grabbing a pair of tight, black leather pants. Gotta look nice and sexy at all times America compromised to himself when he grabbed the material to begin with. Leather knee-high boots also seemed sexy with the entire look so they were not passed over either.
His hand went up to fix the red bandanna on his head and he suppressed the urge to try and twiddle with his currently non-existent glasses, which he forfeited for contacts for the night.
Satisfied that his outfit was perfect, flawless to even the Brit's scrutinizing eyes, he made confident strides to the door. "Huh, that's strange. There's no lights..." America mused at the lack of lights from the windows but shrugged it off to ring the door bell.
The door opened inward with no one at the door itself. America just walked in, keeping his back to the door as he looked around the dark room lit only by candles. He put a hand on his hip. "Dude, England, where's the party?" He asked loudly, not bothering to turn around, even when a soft click alerted him to the door being locked (not that he could remember it being closed in the first place).
Something cold and sharp soon found a place against the American's neck as an arm wrapped around his torso. "I might have lied." A voice whispered in America's ear huskily.
America smiled, slowly becoming aroused. "You lied to me, Captain?" He asked with mock disappointment.
"Aye, but why should I explain myself to a mere cabin boy?"
"So he doesn't rise up in mutiny." America offered, although mutiny was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment.
The blade pressed closer and England pulled America closer. "Then I should punish him to prevent it."
If the (successful) attempt of seduction hadn't done it's trick already, those words had America's member twitching. "Aye, aye, Cap-ie-tan. Good plan." America replied enthusiastically.
"So should I take my harlot to the bedroom for his punishment?" England purred, nibbling on the ear's lobe.
"More good ideas from the Captain, sir."
"Then put your hands behind you, Cabin Boy." America complied, careful to not press the sharp blade any more against his skin. The sword, with a small stain of blood, was removed as America's wrists were bound together firmly. The pressure of the sword was soon replaced by an old metal version of a collar, probably a torture tool left over from England's pirate days.
England stepped in front of the bound American to face him, sword pointed at his throat as he stared at the American with half lidded eyes of lust. America took his time to really appreciate his Captain's outfit that made England look like he belonged in a different time period.
He wore the tell-tale black hat with that weird feather thing that marked him as captain, his blond hair escaping beneath it in messy, seductive, tendrils. Small golden hoops dangled from his ears and an eye patch covered his right eye.
Although he had on a red coat with golden shoulder padding, his white shirt was visible, showing the frills, at the place where his usual tie would have been, with a ruby in a golden necklace on it.
He had chosen to go without the belt as well, meaning that the sword would have no safe resting place. For some odd reason, this did not seem to bother America at all. Instead of leather, some tight, spandex-like, dark blue material made the tight fitting pants to end in very well made boots that cut a few inches below the knees. Noticing how eagerly his cabin boy licked his lips as he looked the captain up and down, England smirked at him.
He angled the sword so he could lean closer to his captive, tugging slightly on the chain that lead to the collar. America leaned in slightly to steal a kiss but was stopped by the sword. "I see you're eager." England barely whispered, keeping his lips just centimeters away from America's just to tease the younger nation.
Shivers went down America's spine to the tip of his member as the sweet breath tickled his lips, barely remembering the role he was currently playing. "Aye, aye, Captain." America whispered back obediently, barely suppressing the rising need to press closer to those taunting lips.
Seeing the high (and unusual) level of self control the American had, England decided to reward him that kiss that he had been withholding. He immediately bit the other's lips and forced his tongue in, demanding nothing less than total submission. Something that America gladly gave.
England soon parted for breath, but kept his lips, and those tantalizing heavy pants, lingering near America's, making it even harder for said American to keep control.
"Captain, was there mention of a bed?" America prompted.
"If you had been listening, then you wouldn't even ask that idiotic question." England jeered before backing away and slowly letting the tip of the sword follow the neck up to the chin then lowering it to lead the other by the leash up the stairs.
The candles decreased as they made their way to the Brit's room, casting more shadows around the old house. Soon they were at the door that led into England's room, said nation pausing only to kick it in.
The room itself was only lit by two candles, both placed on either side of the large, four poster bed, the flickering lights being obscured slightly by the transparent curtains hanging from the roof of the bed.
England pulled America to face him, forcing the American's back to the bed. He grabbed the chain where it connected to the collar and whispered into America's ear.
"Thinking of mutiny now?"
"I think a little more punishment is needed to convince me otherwise." America lustfully replied, leaning in closer to nibble the top of England's ear to show his rebellion.
England pulled away and roughly shoved the American through the curtain onto his back on top of the bed. England then climbed on top to straddle the hips of his captive, trading his sword for a smaller, yet effective, knife while shedding his coat.
He leaned down to keep his face inches away from America's, bringing his knife to rest beneath the white fabric of the other's shirt. "That can be arranged." England's whisper was followed by the quick sound of ripping fabric.
Before America could protest at the loss of his shirt, he was silenced by nipping teeth upon his already bruised lips. While he was being distracted, America's tattered shirt was pushed aside to reveal his chest to the cold air, his hiss of protest being swallowed by his Captain's lips.
The knife was tossed aside and America could vaguely make out the smirk on England's face, made even more menacing by the flickering of shadows on his face. Soon the face disappeared from view as a nip was given above one of his nipples, causing America to gasp.
England gave the nipped area a small lick before moving back up to teasingly nibble the edge of America's mouth, slowly progressing downward to the jawline. His hands came up to the American's chest, using the thumbs to rub the sensitive nipples.
America moaned softly and rolled his head back slightly to encourage the Brit to continue. England smirked into the skin at how submissive America was being but continued downward to the closest patch of skin above the collar.
He softly kissed it, making America slightly more sensitive before light, teasing nips were given. "Ng.... Come on, Arthur!" America groaned, annoyed at the gentle treatment.
In response, America got a glare and a stop of all motions. "What did you say?" England growled in warning, giving America a chance to repent.
"Captain...." America begged, wanting nothing more than to continue.
The teasing nips were given at the chosen piece of neck again before England sunk his teeth in to show who this harlot belonged to.
Immediately loving the change to a more claiming direction, America didn't stifle any moans to please the elder nation. England smirked against the skin as the pleasing and arousing sounds reached his ears.
He decided that the American had repented enough to speed things up a little. He let go of the neck and smirked down at America while leaning back to his knees to allow easier access to his next target.
Skilled hands traveled down to the hem of America's pants, one hand unbuttoning them and the other unzipping them in one quick motion. England snickered at the plain bulge and the sigh of relief as he slid the tight pants down to reveal superman underwear. "Typical." He mocked, not expecting any reply if America wanted a little fix.
And no reply was received as America caught the silent threat. He just silently nodded while his eyes lustfully begged for that last piece of clothing to be removed.
England smirked up at the former colony, one he was about to claim yet again, and paused his ministrations to the American in favor of quickly disposing his own clothing. When all the clothes were tossed to unknown corners of the room, he returned to the superman pattern and slowly removed them.
He silently wanted America to struggle to get him to hurry but was disappointed as America only held extra still to prevent anymore torturous punishment.
The last piece of clothing were thrown to be found later with the rest of the clothes and England stuck his fingers in front of America. "Suck." He ordered, leaving no room for protest.
America greedily took them into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tips before thoroughly coating the digits.
"That's a pretty talented mouth. I might have to test it elsewhere some other time." England commented with a smirk. Hungry eyes showed that the American would not have particularly cared at that moment where his mouth was, so this was a treat to save for a much later time.
When England thought the fingers coated enough, he removed them. "Spread them." He ordered. America complied immediatly, raising his rear end up a little to allow easier access to the Pirate.
England smirked down at America, roughly shoving three fingers into the tight passage. America hissed in slight pain but mananged to roll his hips against the fingers, forcing them further in. The smirk on the elder nation's face grew as he let the other stretch himself, ocassionally seperating the fingers.
America rolled back harder, trying to force the fingers to brush against his bundle of nerves. As soon as the taunting digits brushed the goal, America moaned in ecstasy.
White blurred his vision for only a moment before England removed the fingers with a sadistic chuckle. He positioned himself before the passage and purred "Prepare t'be boarded." With a quick motion, England was completly burried to the hilt within the tight passage and America was gasping in pain.
Without waiting for the other to adjust, England began to roll into the younger nation mercilessly. Despite the previous stretching, America felt his insides slightly begin to tear against the fast pace. He rolled his hips against the Brit's to lessen the pain slightly before he was panting for more.
"Wha' did ye say?" England growled in warning.
"C-Captain....." America begged.
"Good save, Harlot." England rewarded by pressing deeper into the tight passage to hit the place to leave the American writhing under him.
"God Aruther!!!" America yelped in suprise as he saw white stars once again. He struggled against the ropes holding his hands captive to pull the Brit closer but to no avail. Soon he settled with wrapping his legs around England's waist to encourage him deeper.
England complied and thrusted deeper into the other, grabbing his erection as an afterthought. America gratfully bucked into the hand as his climax aproached quickly. "Arthur...." He moaned in a voice England found delicious.
England's hand picked up speed on the arousal and he grunted huskily into America's ear. "Scream my name."
"Arthur Kirkland!!" America yelled as he went overboard, cumming hard into the pirate's hand.
The already tight passage around England tightened and he grunted "Alfred..." as he filled said nation with his seed.
England lay on top of America, not even bothering to pull out for a moment as they let the smell of sweat and the sound of the other's panting breath die down. Finally England pulled out and stood to grab the knife (after some searching).
He slowly walked over to America, pulled the leash for one last possesive kiss, and then he decided to cut the other free.
America rubbed his wrists before pulling England into the bed next to him to cuddle. "You know, although it is kinda hott when you go all dominant and top, I can see why people hated you as a pirate." He chuckled.
"Oh? Really now?" England said with a silent threat implied.
"Not me, although I do prefer to top most of the time."
"....." England glared at America in silence for a moment before...
"OUCH!! WHAT THE HELL?!?"
"Your fault." England said with a smirk, taking his teeth out of America's shoulder.
America pouted at the elder nation. "Meanie!"
"Never claimed to be otherwise." The Brit sleepily mumbled.
A few moments of silence followed before America pulled England closer. "Even if you're an asshole sometimes, I still love you."
"Uh huh, and as mushy as it sounds, I love ya too." England then muttered about "only you could get away with half your crap" or something close to it.
America softly kissed England's lips. "Thanks for putting up with my 'crap' or whatever you said."
"Yeah yeah. Now shut up, I want to sleep."