The katana trails downwards, catching in the collar of his uniform, and without much preamble Japan hooks it in the fabric and drags down, slicing a long tear in the shirt. There is shifting movement, and Japan now grabs it with one hand, yanking upwards, and his strength is enough to tear it completely in half, leaving his back exposed.
He tries not to shiver, because it's fucking humid and hot, but the temperature is not the reason his muscles convulse. He tries to think of any number of apologies that might turn this situation into anything slightly more closer to some definition of "okay", but none come to mind that sound sincere enough. After all, they are at war, and his ships and planes are attacking Japan's even as the smaller nations hands and mouth begin tracing searing patterns on his back.
Japan moves quickly, much more quickly down his back, and soon he is sneaking hands in front of America's hips, unlatching his belt and trousers with deceptive gentleness, and America's breath hitches. He isn't even close to being truly aroused, and doesn't want to be, but it seems Japan is going ahead with his plan anyways.
He almost feels like crying, but buries his face in the sheets again and tells himself that innocent thousands are dying at this very moment, in Europe and Asia, and his lands are relatively untouched. It is that thought that has him bite back a harsh cry as two fingers, slicked with spit only, slide into him.
The tears spring to his eyes anyways, because it is rough and it hurts and the indignity of being face-down on a dirty bunk in the middle of a useless jungle, captured with someone's fingers up his ass, is almost unbearable.
But he is strong, or so he tells himself, and so he closes his eyes and forces himself to make no more than a whimper as the fingers begin moving about stretching him only enough to not rip anything should anything larger be introduced, and that thought causes him to shudder again in poorly-disguised fear.
This is not the Japan America knew, and that point is very clear now.
Sun In The East (4) (Above was 3, ignore LJ fail)
The katana trails downwards, catching in the collar of his uniform, and without much preamble Japan hooks it in the fabric and drags down, slicing a long tear in the shirt. There is shifting movement, and Japan now grabs it with one hand, yanking upwards, and his strength is enough to tear it completely in half, leaving his back exposed.
He tries not to shiver, because it's fucking humid and hot, but the temperature is not the reason his muscles convulse. He tries to think of any number of apologies that might turn this situation into anything slightly more closer to some definition of "okay", but none come to mind that sound sincere enough. After all, they are at war, and his ships and planes are attacking Japan's even as the smaller nations hands and mouth begin tracing searing patterns on his back.
Japan moves quickly, much more quickly down his back, and soon he is sneaking hands in front of America's hips, unlatching his belt and trousers with deceptive gentleness, and America's breath hitches. He isn't even close to being truly aroused, and doesn't want to be, but it seems Japan is going ahead with his plan anyways.
He almost feels like crying, but buries his face in the sheets again and tells himself that innocent thousands are dying at this very moment, in Europe and Asia, and his lands are relatively untouched. It is that thought that has him bite back a harsh cry as two fingers, slicked with spit only, slide into him.
The tears spring to his eyes anyways, because it is rough and it hurts and the indignity of being face-down on a dirty bunk in the middle of a useless jungle, captured with someone's fingers up his ass, is almost unbearable.
But he is strong, or so he tells himself, and so he closes his eyes and forces himself to make no more than a whimper as the fingers begin moving about stretching him only enough to not rip anything should anything larger be introduced, and that thought causes him to shudder again in poorly-disguised fear.
This is not the Japan America knew, and that point is very clear now.
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