Request: England and America are somewhere where the weather is really hot and England, not used to the heat, wears shorts. America loves this and really, really likes it when England wears shorts. Bonus: The shorts are rather tight on England. Bonus: America can’t focus if England is walking in front of him, bending down to get something, whatever else anons choose, because he can’t help but ogle England’s gorgeous arse. Bonus: America groping said gorgeous arse leads to sexy time.
“Wow, it really is hot, England!”
“Mmph.”
Turning around to look at the Brit behind him, America furrowed his eyebrows and put his hands on his hips, giving him that you’re-bothered-by-something-and-you-won’t-tell-me look. “What’s the matter?”
England looked up in annoyance. “It’s hot,” he grumbled, thick eyebrows scrunched together. “Even with the air con on and inside with all of the windows open, it’s hot…” He shuffled over to the couch, sitting down and stretching out, trying to think if something to rid of the flashes of heat that kept coming.
Ah, the heat waves really sucked, England had to agree. But he would never admit that it ‘sucked’. That wouldn’t be gentlemanly. So instead, he rolled over so he was laying on his back, and then got up off the couch, remembering something that he had brought with him on his visit. “I’ll be right back,” he said before he went over to his suitcase in their shared room, digging out some clothes.
--
“Englaaaaand,” America called, going up the stairs and into their bedroom, looking around for his lover. He spotted him sitting on the bed, spread out while he read a book…
In really, really short shorts.
…oh god.
America looked at the elder country in surprise, eyes widening behind his glasses as he shifted side to side in order to keep himself from jumping England right then and there. It was hot, and he couldn’t do that. They would both suffocate from the heat—more added onto due to the physics of sex and lust. Oh, curse physics and their… physic-ness…
Now was not the time to make up words, America decided, staring at his boyfriend, who looked up from his book and gave him an acknowledging wave before going back to his book, stretched out on the bed.
The younger blonde went up to the bed, climbing on and looking at England from a closer view, swallowing nervously when he saw how tight those shorts were. Oh, if he could just reach out and—
“I’m hungry,” England suddenly announced, putting his book down and getting out of bed, going for the stairs and heading down to the kitchen. America cursed to himself once the Brit had left, running a hand through his hair. Dammit, and he had been so close too!
He followed him after scolding himself for taking too long staring at him, going down to the kitchen as well and spotting England by the fridge…
Bending over.
Why.
America cleared his throat, hiding back the groan at the site of his boyfriend looking through the fridge like that, and the urge to jump him yet again. Why did he suddenly look more attractive than before? …was that even possible?
In the middle of America’s internal conflictions, England had fixed himself a salad, and was now seated at the table, one leg crossed over the other. America took a deep breath, grabbing a soda and sitting down with him, giving the Englishman a sheepish, nervous smile when he looked over at him.
When England shifted in his chair, America’s eyes went right to his ass, and the look of his ass went right to his groin. Oh, damn, did he look good in those shorts… Just… so good…
“Did you say something?”
(anon doesn't know if there's a limit so sorry if the posts are all over the place in various sizes this is only his second time posting)
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Hot Day [1/?]
(Anonymous) 2012-01-09 10:11 pm (UTC)(link)America loves this and really, really likes it when England wears shorts.
Bonus: The shorts are rather tight on England.
Bonus: America can’t focus if England is walking in front of him, bending down to get something, whatever else anons choose, because he can’t help but ogle England’s gorgeous arse.
Bonus: America groping said gorgeous arse leads to sexy time.
“Wow, it really is hot, England!”
“Mmph.”
Turning around to look at the Brit behind him, America furrowed his eyebrows and put his hands on his hips, giving him that you’re-bothered-by-something-and-you-won’t-tell-me look. “What’s the matter?”
England looked up in annoyance. “It’s hot,” he grumbled, thick eyebrows scrunched together. “Even with the air con on and inside with all of the windows open, it’s hot…” He shuffled over to the couch, sitting down and stretching out, trying to think if something to rid of the flashes of heat that kept coming.
Ah, the heat waves really sucked, England had to agree. But he would never admit that it ‘sucked’. That wouldn’t be gentlemanly. So instead, he rolled over so he was laying on his back, and then got up off the couch, remembering something that he had brought with him on his visit. “I’ll be right back,” he said before he went over to his suitcase in their shared room, digging out some clothes.
--
“Englaaaaand,” America called, going up the stairs and into their bedroom, looking around for his lover. He spotted him sitting on the bed, spread out while he read a book…
In really, really short shorts.
…oh god.
America looked at the elder country in surprise, eyes widening behind his glasses as he shifted side to side in order to keep himself from jumping England right then and there. It was hot, and he couldn’t do that. They would both suffocate from the heat—more added onto due to the physics of sex and lust. Oh, curse physics and their… physic-ness…
Now was not the time to make up words, America decided, staring at his boyfriend, who looked up from his book and gave him an acknowledging wave before going back to his book, stretched out on the bed.
The younger blonde went up to the bed, climbing on and looking at England from a closer view, swallowing nervously when he saw how tight those shorts were. Oh, if he could just reach out and—
“I’m hungry,” England suddenly announced, putting his book down and getting out of bed, going for the stairs and heading down to the kitchen. America cursed to himself once the Brit had left, running a hand through his hair. Dammit, and he had been so close too!
He followed him after scolding himself for taking too long staring at him, going down to the kitchen as well and spotting England by the fridge…
Bending over.
Why.
America cleared his throat, hiding back the groan at the site of his boyfriend looking through the fridge like that, and the urge to jump him yet again. Why did he suddenly look more attractive than before? …was that even possible?
In the middle of America’s internal conflictions, England had fixed himself a salad, and was now seated at the table, one leg crossed over the other. America took a deep breath, grabbing a soda and sitting down with him, giving the Englishman a sheepish, nervous smile when he looked over at him.
When England shifted in his chair, America’s eyes went right to his ass, and the look of his ass went right to his groin. Oh, damn, did he look good in those shorts… Just… so good…
“Did you say something?”
(anon doesn't know if there's a limit so sorry if the posts are all over the place in various sizes this is only his second time posting)