So many flashing lights… Are… those sparkles? They're gone? Huh? Oh, it's just you, Flying Mint Bunny… Wait where are you going? My vision's all black now. But I'm positive my eyes are opened. Am I being blindfolded?

My arms and even my legs… I can't move them…? I feel something soft on my back. Is it a mattress? Feels like one. My body kind of aches… it feels like something is attached to all my limbs. Something metallic… cold…

I feel a presence. My body freezes and I instinctively stop breathing though any prospect of me being able to retaliate has clearly been eliminated by these metallic things binding me to a bed. Help me. Please.

My mouth isn't gagged but I'm still afraid to speak. Somehow I sense a very ominous presence.

"…Eng…land…" What? That sounds like… America. No, it's not America. That may be America's voice but… it's not America. His voice isn't cheery and boisterous like always… it even seems… threatening.

But I still had to give it a shot. Knowing that I'm not gagged makes me feel just a bit more secure and I opened my mouth. Nothing comes out. Shit. I try again.

"Am...er…" I paused. Almost like a reflection of my defiance. W-What? What defiance? If anything, I should be superior to him!

Footsteps… they advance towards me almost menacingly. Before I could prepare myself for anything, my lips are forcibly yanked apart and a tasteless liquid fills my mouth. I choke, causing some of the liquid to dribble down my chin.

"W-What do you think you're doing, A-America?" My voice came out as a sorry squeak but I was glad that I was now able to speak no matter how pathetic I sounded. The absence of a reply did nothing to calm my pulsating heart. These walls that entrap me… they're making me feel claustrophobic. Helpless.

A strong sensation throws me off-guard. These clothes… They're making me feel weird. It almost feels like they've taken a life of their own. Rubbing against my nipples and my crotch. I can feel his eyes on me, noticing my every breath, the faint tinge of red on my cheeks. Screw it, my body feels beyond hot. Help me…

"How would you like me to help?" A deep voice echoes next to my ear, seemingly telepathically. I can't take this anymore… Fuck this. Fuck you, America. Assuming you're behind all this, you have no right to bind me to this bed and keep me here, treating me like a pet, and enacting all your wishes. Who are you to slap me like that? To pour some inscrutable liquid down my throat?

"America... release me this instant." A moment ago, I was like a marionette, almost at the mercy of his wrath. It was out of fear but in retrospect, I just feel humiliated. Right now, all I want to do is reclaim my pride.

Just then, the cold metallic feeling disappears as I feel the straps holding me down withdraw and then a loud familiar outburst of laughter. I sit up, quickly pull off my blindfold and am met with the sight of America at my side. I resist the urge to sucker punch him and instead just concentrate all my anger on glaring at him.

"What? Even the Hero wants to play the villian sometimes too."

Scoffing at him, I muttered, "what about that justice you hold in such high regard?"

"Oh come on, no harm was done, was there? Besides, it's your fault you got drunk yesterday.

Oh.

"Then why don't you tell me about that suspicious liquid that you poured into my mouth?"

A look of shame seemed to flood his face as he came closer. My body readied itself for the blow.

"Actually, I have no idea. It was given to me by France who said it would cure hangovers or something."

Is he serious? Is this the idiot I brought up? No it's precisely he stopped being under my care that he turned out like this. Well, doesn't excuse him from being a complete imbecile.

"What did you meant to cure when I don't even have hangovers? My broken hear-"

Shit.

"Headache! I meant to say headache!"

For a moment, I thought I saw a grin flash across his face.

"You know, I caught that."

Shit.

My heart skipped a beat upon realising the mere distance between us.

"Wait, why are you so close?" I promptly shoved him away but he seemed to have been prepared for the impact and didn't even budge so much as an inch.

Knowing that wine-loving idiot, he probably gave America something weird. That's probably why my body feels so hot...

"England? You okay? Do you have a cold?"

I feel so weird... ugh...

"H-Hey dude!"

I can feel his breath on my face, growing redder by the second and I turn my face away. America…

"Eeeeeh? Is the air-conditioner not on? It's so hot!" Luckily, he stopped taking notice of me. Fanning himself with his shirt, America proceeded to fumble with the remote controls.

"Yahoo! It's on! Alright!" He gave a cry of triumph and I couldn't help but smile at his childishness.

He proceeds to sit next to me on the bed. Now that I notice it, he's wearing his normal outfit without the jacket. And all I'm wearing are… white pyjamas. Ah, it's no wonder he feels hot. I'm feeling so hot; the mere distance between us isn't helping…

Huh? He looks kind of embarrassed. Wait, why is there a bulge in his pants? All I can see is his side profile. Could it be that…? Shit, I'm losing it.

Before even realising what I'm doing, I grabbed him by the arm and pinned him down under me. His face was a dark shade of red, and his eyes were wide open from shock, adding to the appeal.

"S-Stop England… I feel kind of w-weird…" He murmured, avoiding my gaze and choosing to look to the side. What am I doing? I should stop. But I can't. I've longed for him for far too long, far too much. I bury my face into his neck, and releasing my hold on his arm, I start running my fingers back and forth on his bulge. He turns and looks at me with lust in his eyes.

"A-ah w-wait mm-?!" In an attempt to shut him up, I kissed him gently yet passionately on the lips, taking his lip between mine and sucking it gently, every time our tongues clashed, longing would pierce my being and travel straight to my genitals.

He doesn't look away after our kiss ended. He stares at me with lustful eyes. I know what he wants.

Tracing circles on his nipples, I look at him to gauge his sensitivity. He purses his lips like he's trying to hold it in. To teach him a lesson, I bring my teeth down and bite his nipples.

"A-Ah!?"

"That'll teach you for trying to hold it in, you idiot."

He looks away for a moment as though contemplating something.

"Can I… touch you?"