10 February 2012 - 5:59 AM

10th: Taking Care of Business
It's time for work! America and England in a work setting or participating in your occupation of choice for them. It can be canonverse with them at world meetings, on the battlefield, etc., or it can be AU with them doing... whatever you wish. Both of them do not need to be working (i.e. America as a vet and England as someone bringing his pet in), and they're welcome to be off the clock as well, as long as their occupation is made clear in the piece.

I'm currently asking my mother to pick an occupation.

…

She's not answering me. :(

Okay, then. I'm going to make this horribly angsty and horrible.

Blame my mother.

Rating: T

Warning: Mentions of Voyeurism, Sexual Activities, Foul Language, Swearing/Cursing, NOT AU, Cold War Period, Comfort on England's part

Anyone ever read my Colonial Love story? It's like that... as well as the Economic Gangbang on the Kink Meme. (From what I've read of Deanons of it)

Trade Agreement

1945.

A flight from Paris to London.

England sighed as he shifted in the plane seat once more. He hated this part of his job. It wasn't so bad when he was younger, being able to give up his body willingly and having no one hear of it for decades, even centuries, but it was much harder, especially with that new screen that made you think that somebody was watching you through it.

Stupid America.

"Hey." He turned to his left. There that idiotic American sat, a nervous expression on his face as well. It was the first time that he would be doing something like this, having been such a Puritan before and having seen sexual intercourse as such a sinful thing to do.

"Are you okay?" England chuckled. Always pretending to be a hero.

"Yes. This isn't my first time, though it is for you."

"-Please buckle your seat-belts as the plane will begin to descend shortly.-" The stewardess placed the microphone back onto his wall holster and walked down the aisle once more, being stopped by a civilian flier who wanted a bit of gin to remain calm as they fell, as he had fought in the first War as a pilot and descending had always reminded him of death.

Alfred smiled softly, knowing that his own bomber jacket was in one of his suitcases. England leaned on his shoulder, placing a hand over his, their position on the armrest in between them.

"It's okay, love." He kissed his cheek quickly, making sure that none of the citizens saw two soldiers being closer than normally sound.

Winston Churchill stood up, seeing that American and England were finally beginning to look rather anxious for this event.

Harry Truman looked down at his watch. As far as America had told him, only Washington had ever seen an event such as this. It was supposed to stimulate economy after war, and due to England owing America so much, this was a good idea... according to fellow ally nations. France supported it; Germany, Italy, and Japan were being subjected to it; Russia was doing it with the other nations of the USSR...

It still didn't seem right.

Churchill cleared his throat.

"I believe it would be a good time to begin."

America sighed. He followed England as the other stood.

"Don't worry," Churchill interjected, glancing as the two nations, then at Truman, and back.

"We will not watch."

Everyone exhaled in relief. America placed his forehead on England's shoulder, some stress finally off of him. He didn't want to do this in front of his President. He was still a virgin, to add to the embarrassment. Well, he'd done it with England before, but that was more of a drunken thing that the Generals pushed him towards doing.

Washington hadn't even known that he was drunk.

And England was the only person he'd ever done it with.

England leaned his head against America's, smelling the sweet smell of male musk and the chocolate that the other seemed to carry.

"Thank you," he said, almost loudly as the silence was suffocating all four men.

As the President and Prime Minister left the room, England led his lover to a room that had been set up, it being adjacent to this small meeting room.

As they walked inside after England unlocked the door, America saw a King-sized bed, it looking so comfortable to him after this World War that he kind of wanted to forget this economic stimulus idea.

"America."

"..." He admired the cotton sheets of the bed, the comforters reminding him of when England would bring him new blankets, silks, and linens from Europe, Russia, or China, when he was just a colony.

"Alfred." He looked up at his human name, the one that England gave him. Perhaps that was why they all had a human name, to have a name that humans – that had nothing to do with them – didn't just randomly give them.

It had meaning.

England could see faeries and elves, so it made sense that he would call Alfred... Alfred.

It meant "of the elves."

"Yes, Arthur?" England felt a strange connection in the air as America spoke this human name. It made his heart skip.

"We have to..." He trailed off as he walked to the slightly taller man, putting his hands on his shoulders and then coming closer, chest against chest. He closed his eyes, trailing his hands up to cradle America's head and began to place his lips against his neck. Not really kisses, but just feather-light touches.

"I know," America whispered, "it's our job."

England held the other tightly.

"At least it's only you."

"I don't want to share."

"I love you."

A kiss and everything else was a blur.

Just two men caught up in their work.

10 February 2012 - 2:14 PM

I'm sad. NEXT ONE!