“Arthur,” he said in his no-nonsense, don’t argue voice. “I don’t actually care what you look like. I’m not shallow, babe. I mean, it’s a perk, but I’m pretty sure you can make anything hot, because I already love your body, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to love it even with all that extra weight on it. Of course, I don’t know for sure, because you won’t take your damn clothes off so I can fuck you into the mattress and make you scream my name. I am dying right now, we haven’t had sex in two months and I want some, and you can do whatever you want to lose the weight or not, but right now I want you and a little fat is not going to make me lose my fucking erection.”
England stared at him. America touched a hand gently to his thigh.
“Hey, babe. Just show me.” England hesitated for a moment, then almost shyly, like he was a virgin, pulled his shirt off. America let his eyes wander over his body, and then laughed. “Is that it?”
“Yes, of course it is! What did you expect?” he asked irritably, crossing his arms. America laughed gently again and hooked his fingers into England’s large sweatpants, tugging.
“Take these off too. I want to see all of you.” England hesitated once again but then did it without a fuss and America flipped them over again so he was on top.
“So…” he trailed off as America kissed his neck.
“Babe, you do know that you don’t look that different, right?” He really, truly didn’t, other than the fact that he wasn’t completely bony anymore. He looked…healthy. And maybe had a bit of a stomach and love handles, which were making America’s mind go very bad places.
“But…but… I’ve gained-“ America cut him off again with a kiss.
“You look fine, Arthur. Nobody probably even noticed because you’re overreacting.” His hands skimmed down his sides to grab at his hips. “You have love handles now. I find that incredibly sexy.”
“You…you’re ridiculous, America,” he said, blushing. America grinned and sat down on his thighs, hands drifting up to press down onto the softness around his middle insistently. If he thought that England had been blushing before, he burst into flame now, squirming and biting down on his lip to stifle the moan he knew he was holding in.
“They do say ‘more cushion for the pushin’ ‘ for a reason,” he said with a wicked, wicked grin and pounced.
The next morning, America woke up and very gently eased himself out of England’s death grip and left the bed for a few seconds to go to the bathroom and grab his laptop. There were a few things he needed to check.
England woke up a few minutes later to the typing, looking at him blearily. “What the bloody hell are you doing, Alfred? ‘S too early…”
“Do you realize, that at 182 pounds, you’re only about seven pounds overweight?” America asked him, turning the laptop so he could see it. “You are 5 foot 9 inches, right?”
“That can’t be right…” England said, squinting at the screen.
“Well, that’s on the high end, but really… you look healthy and not bony like you always have.” America poked him in the side, and he squirmed, slightly ticklish. “So if you’re going to try to lose weight, only lose some, or else I’ll worry.” Because now he knew about it, and he couldn’t un-know.
England gave him a small smile that spoke volumes as he snapped the laptop shut and set it over to the side. “Darling…thank you.”
“For what, I didn’t do anything…” America said, grinning. “Except feed you hamburgers and give you bruises where I held those incredibly cute and sexy love handles last night.” That earned him a pillow to the face. He pulled it down, laughing, and then saw the slightly predatory look on
England’s face. “Would you like to give me more?” America’s smile turned into a smirk as he pushed him down onto the bed again.
God bless hamburgers.
------- The website that America (and I) looked at to get the numbers is here: http://www.disabled-world.com/artman/publish/height_weight.shtml
[Part 6] God Bless Hamburgers [2/2]
England stared at him. America touched a hand gently to his thigh.
“Hey, babe. Just show me.” England hesitated for a moment, then almost shyly, like he was a virgin, pulled his shirt off. America let his eyes wander over his body, and then laughed. “Is that it?”
“Yes, of course it is! What did you expect?” he asked irritably, crossing his arms. America laughed gently again and hooked his fingers into England’s large sweatpants, tugging.
“Take these off too. I want to see all of you.” England hesitated once again but then did it without a fuss and America flipped them over again so he was on top.
“So…” he trailed off as America kissed his neck.
“Babe, you do know that you don’t look that different, right?” He really, truly didn’t, other than the fact that he wasn’t completely bony anymore. He looked…healthy. And maybe had a bit of a stomach and love handles, which were making America’s mind go very bad places.
“But…but… I’ve gained-“ America cut him off again with a kiss.
“You look fine, Arthur. Nobody probably even noticed because you’re overreacting.” His hands skimmed down his sides to grab at his hips. “You have love handles now. I find that incredibly sexy.”
“You…you’re ridiculous, America,” he said, blushing. America grinned and sat down on his thighs, hands drifting up to press down onto the softness around his middle insistently. If he thought that England had been blushing before, he burst into flame now, squirming and biting down on his lip to stifle the moan he knew he was holding in.
“They do say ‘more cushion for the pushin’ ‘ for a reason,” he said with a wicked, wicked grin and pounced.
The next morning, America woke up and very gently eased himself out of England’s death grip and left the bed for a few seconds to go to the bathroom and grab his laptop. There were a few things he needed to check.
England woke up a few minutes later to the typing, looking at him blearily. “What the bloody hell are you doing, Alfred? ‘S too early…”
“Do you realize, that at 182 pounds, you’re only about seven pounds overweight?” America asked him, turning the laptop so he could see it. “You are 5 foot 9 inches, right?”
“That can’t be right…” England said, squinting at the screen.
“Well, that’s on the high end, but really… you look healthy and not bony like you always have.” America poked him in the side, and he squirmed, slightly ticklish. “So if you’re going to try to lose weight, only lose some, or else I’ll worry.” Because now he knew about it, and he couldn’t un-know.
England gave him a small smile that spoke volumes as he snapped the laptop shut and set it over to the side. “Darling…thank you.”
“For what, I didn’t do anything…” America said, grinning. “Except feed you hamburgers and give you bruises where I held those incredibly cute and sexy love handles last night.” That earned him a pillow to the face.
He pulled it down, laughing, and then saw the slightly predatory look on
England’s face. “Would you like to give me more?” America’s smile turned into a smirk as he pushed him down onto the bed again.
God bless hamburgers.
-------
The website that America (and I) looked at to get the numbers is here: http://www.disabled-world.com/artman/publish/height_weight.shtml