Past-Part Fills Part 7
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Past-Part Fills Part Seven
Fills from past parts can go here!
Fills from the current part (part 22) MUST go in that part's post until it is full.
Link to the original request (and if an ongoing fill, any previous chapters/sections).
Don't forget to link your new fill at the fill ( Read more... )
Original request: http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/13943.html?thread=36075639#t36075639
America and Russia are involved during the Cold War and fake a strong enmity in front of other nations and their bosses.
After a particularly nice and sweet night making love, they have to face each other in public again but…
…they find they can’t fake. Seriously. Harsh words get caught in their throats, any kind of attempt at faked physical intimidation turns to an uncontrollable need to caress and embrace the other. Threatening the other makes them pale and feel sick and/or want to cry.
Bonus. They start the morning as always! totally convinced they can pull it off. It's only when they get down to it that they realise they can't
2nd Bonus. One of them starts having trouble first and his obvious inability to be mean to the other make that other have trouble of his own.
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“Don’t forget your sock, you left it in the sink.” America looked out from under the cocoon of the sheets, blearily watching Russia move around the room while collecting his things and fixing his tie. The hotel room was grey, only touched by the weakest tendrils of morning light. The black alarm clock ticked seconds away from 4:45 and America pulled the teal hotel comforter up higher on his bare back.
Russia hummed and walked to the small kitchenette where a black dress sock hung limply from the silver tap. He grabbed it and walked back to the rumpled bed, sitting down next to where America lay quietly with his head at the foot of the bed and his own feet resting on the starched pillows. Neither said anything as Russia rolled the sock up and pulled it onto his right foot. America moved his leg to touch the cigarette tray on the nightstand, listening to the weighted glass scratch the top loudly.
“I hate this,” he muttered into the mattress, frowning at the green and blue carpeted floor. Russia paused in buttoning up his dress shirt ( ... )
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“I need to go,” he said while stooping down for a nicotine-drenched kiss. America’s tongue flicked out wetly in an attempt to stretch out what had been meant to be a quick peck. Russia pulled away, kissing America’s brow as he frowned. “You know how early England and Germany wake. I have to get to my room.”
America nodded petulantly, blue eyes watching in interest as he finished getting ready and grabbed his room key. “I’ll see you later then, fucking commie.” America’s voice was flat with the insult meant to have no bite.
“Until later, capitalist pig,” Russia replied with a smile, his gloved hand resting reluctantly on the door handle.
“Hey,” America called out just as Russia pulled on the handle. The other nation looked back to see him roll on to his stomach, displaying his ass blatantly and giving it a firm smack. Red bloomed quickly over the soft creamy skin before Russia tugged his eyes to meet America’s blue gaze. America gave a brazen smile despite the blush that had bloomed across his own face and down his chest. “Just ( ... )
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I love your writing and characterization, author!anon. Its only the first two chapters but I can already see how much these two are in love... hope everything will turn out ok!
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The play always began at breakfast with saccharine smiles and twisting sardonic words. America sat in the hotel lobby next to a potted fern, reading the headlines of the newspaper as the three other nations at the table chatted amiably and his coffee grew cold. There wasn’t much left to the bitter brown liquid save the cream that had fallen to the bottom and the grinds that pockmarked the edges of the while porcelain. He always felt like an actor. It was amazing really, how quickly insults sprouted when looking at Russia in the presence of the other nations of the world. It was artistic, in some grotesque way, how vicious and acerbic they could be to each other and then spend the night talking about the stars and smoothing the fears out of each other’s limbs with gentle fingers.
England huffed and the younger nation turned his gaze to his brothers. France was rolling his eyes and Canada was staring out of a window nearby, lilac eyes trailing the snow that swirled to the ground slowly. “I’m telling you he was skulking about the hotel ( ... )
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“Yeah, ‘cause I’m really gonna just go and start a war because I don’t like his ugly mug at breakfast.” America looked back to where Russia was sitting and crossed his arms. “Fucking face could probably curdle milk.” He mashed the crumbs from the pastry between his fingers and shook his head. He hated double talk, even if he was really good at it. Usually all it took was remembering something that the Soviet Union was doing at the moment and he could have a convincible façade. Actually, that whole damn missile thing was enough to set his teeth on edge. When he stood up, the two Europeans stopped arguing. “I’m just going to do a sweep of the conference room, calm your shit.” He gave a glance over his shoulder as he picked up his briefcase and pushed the chair in with his foot. “I’ll see you in a few, alright?”
The chatter of the room seemed to get quieter as he walked towards Russia, but it was the only way to get to the conference room. The room smelled like pine and juniper from the greenery brought in to celebrate the quickly ( ... )
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Loving the story so far, author! Thanks for the quick update. :D
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It was still early for the meeting, but Russia made his way into the conference room after finishing a cup of coffee with two creams and one sugar. Russia didn’t really like coffee that way, but that’s how America takes his coffee and the smell reminded him of the other nation. Sometimes he can pretend that he can see the younger man’s reflection in the brown liquid. As he opened the door to the room, America was facing away from him, but he could see the agitation in his shoulders as he lifted a painting off the wall and checked for any bugs. England turned to glare at him, his already cross features turning mildly murderous when they turned to see him. Russia simply smiled and took his seat silently.
“Of all the rooms, in all the hotels, in all the world, you had to walk into mine,” America grouched over his shoulder as he placed the painting back into its spot.
“I would not call this room ‘yours’. I would keep that greed in check.”
America turned to him fully as he stood in front of the window and frowned. The shadows made his ( ... )
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“It is fun.” Russia said and dragged cool fingers through the blond locks. America hummed. Violet eyes looked up to the ceiling of the room and back to the empty table. It smelled like stark cleaning products here, unlike the homey pine that filled the rest of hotel.
“You know were gonna have to be extra mean to each other today. Might even have to pull a gun out.” America burrowed his head closer to Russia’s neck, breathing against the scarf that looped around the older man’s neck. “People are talking.”
“They do little else. Like geese.” Russia made a loud honking sound and America jerked at the unexpected noise, sitting up and staring at him with wide blue eyes before laughing and kissing him on the lips gaily.
“You’re crazy,” America laughed.
Russia said nothing and butted his forehead against America’s. “As are you. “
“Damn communist.”
“Naive wonder boy.”
America chuckled and pulled away. Russia watched him stare at the door for a long time with a disgruntled look. He finally slid onto the conference table, looking down ( ... )
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“And if you are not good at forging?”
“Then I’ll be in prison for a week or so. Whatever.” He wrinkled his nose and added, “Or you could ‘detain’ me.” He stopped, looking to the door before cursing and rolling out of Russia’s grasp to scramble across the table to the other side of the room. He looked like a drunken penguin and Russia had to raise his scarf over his mouth to stop from smiling so obviously. America was wiping away the dust from his suit jacket as Canada and Finland came in, both looking curious to the fact that Russia and America were in a room alone together.
Russia adjusted his scarf and set beck to looking through his own notes, which were slightly scattered from when America had rolled over them. He thought over America’s words as the young nation happily talked with his brother. It would be nice to have America over for a while. No sneaking around, just relaxing without the fear of being caught. He smiled at that and looked up to the where the window allowed soft white light to seep in. The smile slipped off ( ... )
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