Hetalia kink meme (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hetalia_kink) wrote2011-02-26 01:33 pm
hetalia_kink) wrote2011-02-26 01:33 pm
Past Part Fills Part 2 -- CLOSED
This Past-Part Fills post is now closed to new fills.
Fresh past-part fills post HERE
Keep yourself up to date -- check out the news HERE
Working out the Kinks (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-01-25 05:36 am (UTC)(link)“Okay, meu marido bonito loves flavor. Spicy stuff, but not too spicy. The poor dear can’t take too much of it, so cut back on those peppers meu querida México, gave you.”
“Like it’ll matter. You could serve England cardboard and it’ll still be better than the stuff he eats,” South Italy interrupts and begins looking through Spain’s tiny hotel kitchen.
“While that may be true,” Portugal grins as he joins South Italy, but leaning against the counter, “I am here to supervise. Nothing but the best for him.”
“I wish you’d have taken as much care of me as you do him,” Spain laughs and joins them, helping South Italy bring out ingredients, “Chicken should be fine, Pollo Estofado? I have already done the marinating last night.”
“It’s got wine in it right?” South Italy asks, “I don’t want to stay up all night listening to him laughing maniacally, waiting for America to come and tackle to subdue him.”
“It’ll be fine, I’ve seen the ingredients,” Portugal insists and grabs Italy around the shoulders, “Well, we’ll set the table and go. If England doesn’t show up tomorrow, happy, as happy as he will ever show in public, well, South Italy here will be spending some time with me.”
Spain laughs when South Italy pales and curses loudly as he’s dragged to the small table. Spain turns the oven on and moves to place the chicken in a pan. He barely notices Portugal and South Italy say they’ve finished setting the table and leave, too busy basting the chicken.
Just as he deems it done and takes it out, there is a sudden knock at his door. Spain puts the pan on the counter and stares at the cooked chicken. He and England have never really talked, so why? All of a sudden?
Shaking his head, Spain goes back and opens the door. Smiles widely when he sees England, wearing a different suit than he had earlier. A bottle is shoved into his hands and Spain’s eyes widen when he see’s the wine’s date, mentally calculating the age.
“Come in, the food’s just finished. We should probably give it some time to cool down.”
He smiles and holds back a chuckle when England tries to do the same. It’s extremely odd seeing a nervous half-smile on him, having only ever seen the overconfident gloating smirk. Conversation is… forced to say the least.
Other than eating, there is little to keep their mouths occupied. Spain hates awkward silences, and this is by far, one of the most awkward he’s had in his long life. Only the one about Spain and South Italy realizing their love was platonic trumped this moment. Suddenly, he hears a gasp and his gaze quickly moves from the stove, to England.
Spain jumps out of his seat.
“What’s wrong?”
England is panting hard and turning a bright red. Tears are gathering in his eyes as sweat begins beading in his forehead, and Spain finds himself beginning to sweat along England. He goes for his water glass, downing it, tiny drops escaping from the corner of his lips, teasingly running down his jaw to his neck. Spain can’t help feeling (or explain) the tightness in his chest at the sight.
“Oh God, it’s hot,” England moans as he slams the glass down on the table and pants harder.
“What?” Spain squeaks, watching England unbuttoning his blazer.
Working out the Kinks (2b/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-01-25 05:38 am (UTC)(link)Oh.
Then Spain notices the small jar, filled with Mexico’s chilies. England must have added it to the food by mistake. And Spain had mistaken it for—mierda.
Spain rushes for the mini fridge and looks for the mini milk bottle, and rushes it to England, “Here, milk helps calm the burn.”
And shit, if Portugal hears about this, just after he’d warned him...
England is downing the milk like he had the water, the exact thing happening, but this time the rivulets were fucking white. Ah, Dios mío. Perdóname que e pecado, Spain prays.
“Ah, thank you,” England sighs and reaches for a napkin, dabbing gently at the liquid that escaped his mouth.
“N-no problem. W-what was it that you wanted to talk about England?” Spain asks and goes back to sit down. England’s large eyebrows furrow and a frown tugs at his lips, thinking. Spain tilts his head to the side, waiting.
“I would like to begin a relationship with you.”
“Oh,” Spain blinks.
Damn character limits. Also, wow, Thanks for reading! I didn't expect so many people!
Re: Working out the Kinks (2b/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-01-25 08:02 am (UTC)(link)Anon, speaking as a Brit anon, I must say: I ADORE YOU FOR MAKING PORTUGAL STILL FEEL THE NEED TO LOOK AFTER ENGLAND! ;;
This fill has been bookmarked, and stalked, just so you know.
Re: Working out the Kinks (2b/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-01-28 11:57 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Working out the Kinks (2b/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-02-03 12:44 pm (UTC)(link)