Request: America and Nation of your choice are wandering around America's house. They manage to land into Tony's room, and try out a genderbending ray. They then decide to take turns fucking each other's genderbend.
Pairings: Russia/America, America/Russia
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“Never enter my room unsupervised. Never touch anything.”
Those were the words Tony left with America when he disappeared for days at a time and returning with notebooks full of experimental information written down in that strange, alien language of his. Of course, it did nothing to sooth the burning curiosity he felt every single time he passed the basement door. His hands itched to open it and walk inside, but Tony’s words always warded him away. What if it was dangerous? What if something in there was toxic to humans? What if it was a really cool teleport machine like on star trek? Or a light saber from Star Wars? Or what if it was an Enchooka laser and he was secretly sending supplies to his home planet? Well, maybe not really an Enchooka laser…but that episode of Doctor Who was still cool. Regardless, he really didn’t like to dwell on it and instead tried focusing his attention on more important things.
Like keeping Russia from molesting him on the front porch.
America fumbled with the keys to his own front door while Russia slid his hands over his ass, squeezing each cheek with a delightful purr while sucking on his earlobe. America dropped the keys at the first squeeze, tore himself away from Russia to snatch the keys back up before Russia resumed his former position: pressing himself to America, hands firmly clenched in his ass and lavishing kisses on his neck. With both nations being incredibly busy, meetings and national crises of a varying degree, they finally managed to carve out an afternoon out of their schedules – after six months being separated from each other – under the pretense of improving international relations. Both bosses had merely sighed, shaking their heads at the obvious cover up, and waved them off.
“Damnit-” Growing frustrated, America finally kicked the door open, extracted himself from Russia’s wandering hands and stumbled inside, shutting the door as best as he could before shoving the hallway table against it. “-there. Now where was I-?”
Russia smashed their lips together in a violent kiss, their teeth cracking together, his tongue forcing its way into America’s mouth. His train of thought fading away, America drug his fingernails across his shoulder’s before circling his arms around Russia’s neck. The two stumbled down the hall, pressed up against a wall before shoving each other back off and resuming their halting, slow pace.
“Too long.” Russia’s husky, thickly accented voice managed to say in between kisses. “Not enough.”
America could only moan at the back of this throat in agreement and follow his lead down the hall, growing lost in the haze of pleasure and overwhelming feeling of having Russia here before him, touching him and kissing him, hearing his voice again after months of hearing it through his cellphone and seeing his face through video chat. Pressing one hand to his back, America ran his fingers over Russia’s scalp, raking them up and down before curling his fingers through the scarf wound around Russia's neck and grazing the pads of his fingers across the layers of scarred skin. Russia stiffened at the touch, then moaned deeply into their kiss and shoving America into the wall.
Only the wall suddenly gave way, hinges of the old basement door squeaking open. America lost his balance and fell backwards, the long set of stairs rushing up to his back, but before he crashed against them, a hand fisted in his shirt and jerked him back up; Russia gripped the door frame with one hand and pulled America to him with the other, his hand falling to his waist and circling around it. America gasped, both in surprise and from their previous heated activities.
Better Living With Alien Ray Guns (1/??)
Pairings: Russia/America, America/Russia
++
“Never enter my room unsupervised. Never touch anything.”
Those were the words Tony left with America when he disappeared for days at a time and returning with notebooks full of experimental information written down in that strange, alien language of his. Of course, it did nothing to sooth the burning curiosity he felt every single time he passed the basement door. His hands itched to open it and walk inside, but Tony’s words always warded him away. What if it was dangerous? What if something in there was toxic to humans? What if it was a really cool teleport machine like on star trek? Or a light saber from Star Wars? Or what if it was an Enchooka laser and he was secretly sending supplies to his home planet? Well, maybe not really an Enchooka laser…but that episode of Doctor Who was still cool. Regardless, he really didn’t like to dwell on it and instead tried focusing his attention on more important things.
Like keeping Russia from molesting him on the front porch.
America fumbled with the keys to his own front door while Russia slid his hands over his ass, squeezing each cheek with a delightful purr while sucking on his earlobe. America dropped the keys at the first squeeze, tore himself away from Russia to snatch the keys back up before Russia resumed his former position: pressing himself to America, hands firmly clenched in his ass and lavishing kisses on his neck. With both nations being incredibly busy, meetings and national crises of a varying degree, they finally managed to carve out an afternoon out of their schedules – after six months being separated from each other – under the pretense of improving international relations. Both bosses had merely sighed, shaking their heads at the obvious cover up, and waved them off.
“Damnit-” Growing frustrated, America finally kicked the door open, extracted himself from Russia’s wandering hands and stumbled inside, shutting the door as best as he could before shoving the hallway table against it. “-there. Now where was I-?”
Russia smashed their lips together in a violent kiss, their teeth cracking together, his tongue forcing its way into America’s mouth. His train of thought fading away, America drug his fingernails across his shoulder’s before circling his arms around Russia’s neck. The two stumbled down the hall, pressed up against a wall before shoving each other back off and resuming their halting, slow pace.
“Too long.” Russia’s husky, thickly accented voice managed to say in between kisses. “Not enough.”
America could only moan at the back of this throat in agreement and follow his lead down the hall, growing lost in the haze of pleasure and overwhelming feeling of having Russia here before him, touching him and kissing him, hearing his voice again after months of hearing it through his cellphone and seeing his face through video chat. Pressing one hand to his back, America ran his fingers over Russia’s scalp, raking them up and down before curling his fingers through the scarf wound around Russia's neck and grazing the pads of his fingers across the layers of scarred skin. Russia stiffened at the touch, then moaned deeply into their kiss and shoving America into the wall.
Only the wall suddenly gave way, hinges of the old basement door squeaking open. America lost his balance and fell backwards, the long set of stairs rushing up to his back, but before he crashed against them, a hand fisted in his shirt and jerked him back up; Russia gripped the door frame with one hand and pulled America to him with the other, his hand falling to his waist and circling around it. America gasped, both in surprise and from their previous heated activities.
“He always keeps this locked.”