conjure_lass: (Hetalia: Britannia Angel!)
[personal profile] conjure_lass
Title: Afterglow
Genre: Romance
Pairing(s): USxUK
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for mentions of sex and nudity. AND SAP.
Summary: It's the hottest day in recorded history in Washington D.C. and two nations are coping as best they can.
Author's Notes: Wouldn't it suck for AC to not be commonplace? Yeah, that's where this came from.

July 20th 1930, Georgetown.

On any other night Alfred would have easily fallen asleep despite the heat. The whir of the electric fan propped on his bedside table blew softly across his back, raising the hair along his sweat-soaked spine. The window near the bed was open wide, the long white curtains dancing haphazardly in the sticky evening breeze. Crickets sang love-songs to each other, breaking the silence of the ever-darkening night.

“I cannot believe it is so bloody hot.” Arthur, the main source of his sleeplessness, stirred restlessly nearby, settling after a moment’s more grousing. “I do not know what possessed me to visit you in the middle of your godforsaken summer.”

Alfred smiled, scooted a bit closer, and ran his fingers down the pale curve of Arthur’s back. The older nation squirmed weakly at first but quickly quieted, the corners of his mouth quirking barely upwards, his cheek pressing down into the pillow. The moonlight glinted off the wet trails where Alfred’s fingers had been, long lines of sweat beading up in the dips of Arthur’s spine to roll down his waist towards the sheets.

Alfred brought his fingers to his lips and sucked at them noisily.

“Alfred! That is disgusting,” Arthur chastised, his nose scrunched up with revulsion.

“You didn’t seem to mind when you were licking it off my thighs a little while ago.” Alfred grinned at the blush that he could see even through the shadows, edging closer until Arthur was forced to move back on his pillow to make room for him. Their bodies were within inches of touching but neither one bridged the distance. It was that uncomfortable stickiness, lingering sweat refusing to dry, that had driven them apart to begin with. It was one thing to be hot and sweaty while you were having sex. It was another thing entirely to stay pressed together afterwards when you were unable to cool off in the hottest summer Washington D.C. had ever seen.

“You are incorrigible.” Arthur sighed, reaching up to peel a sodden lock of hair away from Alfred’s forehead. “And sweaty. We haven’t dried a morsel.”

“Nope,” Alfred readily agreed, blowing against Arthur’s forehead in the hopes of drying it off slightly. It didn’t work. “I don’t think it’s ever been this hot before!”

“I’m quite sure it’s been this hot somewhere.”

“You know what I meant, old man.” He gave him a blank look.

“Mmmm.” Arthur closed his eyes, brow furrowing as he shifted uncomfortably again. There was a sucking sound where his skin pulled away from the damp sheets. “God, I’m so hot…aren’t you hot?”

Alfred would have made the obvious joke, but stopped short when he noticed the pallid tone of Arthur’s skin, the restlessness and soft panting that signaled how very uncomfortable he was. Alfred drew his bottom lip between his teeth and ran both thumbs along Arthur’s eyebrows, flicking away the moisture before placing a soft kiss between them. He had expected to be pushed away, but instead received only a strained sigh, the older man’s body slumping into the mattress bonelessly.

“Wait right here, okay?” Alfred got up off the bed and padded naked into the kitchen, rising up on his tiptoes to retrieve a bowl from the top shelf of the cupboard. It was even hotter in this part of the house, where there were no windows open to entice in the cooler air, so he made quick work of filling the bowl with ice from the icebox. Popping a cube into his mouth, he quickly returned to the bedroom, chewing appreciatively as it began to melt on his tongue.

Arthur hadn’t budged an inch from where he’d left him, eyes still closed and looking completely miserable. Carefully, Alfred sat indian-style on the bed, depositing the bowl in his lap and sidling closer. Arthur didn’t stir at his approach, nor did he move when Alfred took a cube in his fingers and let a few cool drops fall onto the center of his back. Only when the ice was pressed directly against his skin did Arthur finally acknowledge what was going on, eyelids flying open and muscles tensing visibly.

“That’s cold!” He tried to jerk away but Alfred held him fast, pushing down his shoulders with one hand while the other spread a frigid line leisurely down towards his butt, then back up to his neck. Alfred smiled at the tiny, half-whining sounds Arthur made, his toes digging into the mattress as goose-pimples broke out on his skin. By the time a third pass had been made the ice was nearly melted, so he left it sit in the small of Arthur’s back, watching with interest as it became nothing more than a puddle of water. He leaned down and lapped it up before rising to give Arthur’s earlobe a playful bite.

“You’re vile,” the older blond complained. “You’re going to get the sheets wet.”

“They’re already wet,” he replied, coaxing Arthur onto his back so that he could run an ice cube across the flat plane of his belly. “So shut up already.”

“Impertinent brat.”

“I don’t even know what that means.” Alfred shook his head and laughed, bending to lick at the water that had rolled into the curve of Arthur’s hipbone. The bowl in his lap jostled slightly, cool porcelain sliding against his thighs. He glanced up in time to see Arthur’s tongue dart out to tease at a long shard of ice, eyes closed blissfully and somewhat provocatively. “Ugh, don’t do that Arthur, its too hot for another round.”

“I could say the same for you.” He motioned towards Alfred’s head still lingering near his hips, hand resting dangerously on his thigh. He pushed the ice fully into his mouth and spoke around it, the words coming out slightly muffled. “You’re lucky I have impeccable self-control or you’d be on your back by now.”

“Oh?” Alfred’s eyebrow rose curiously. “Well you’re lucky that I’m trying to cool you down so you don’t start dry-heaving or I’d ride you into the mattress.”

“That was terribly unromantic.” Arthur’s lips pursed as he reached back to fluff up his pillows so that he could prop himself up against them. He took the bowl from Alfred and settled it on his own stomach. “It’s a wonder you ever managed to seduce me. I must have been drunk. Or unconscious.”

“Learned from the best!”

“Stop talking and attend to my needs.” Arthur waved towards him airily, rolling his eyes. He leaned his head back against the headboard and stared at Alfred through his eyelashes, the wet line of his throat exposed, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He would have looked coy, if not for the predatory gleam in his eyes, the set of his shoulders like housecat waiting in the grass. He wasn’t fooling anyone.

“There you are, going all British Empire again,” Alfred muttered, the piece of ice clenched between his teeth making it hard for him to speak. He ran it along the outside of Arthur’s thigh, stopping when he reached the knee to lift up his leg and get to the soft skin underneath. He could hear Arthur’s breath hitch audibly, could feel his calf tense where it rested on his shoulder, could just imagine his toes curling despite his self-control.

“Mmmm…perhaps.” Arthur whispered, his voice breathy.

Alfred was crunching the last of the cube between his teeth when he felt a gentle, but insistent, tapping on his cheek. He looked up. Arthur lay above him, the bowl set aside, the last piece of ice clutched temptingly between his pouting lips. He crooked his finger in a come-hither gesture.

Vivat Britannia…

Hope you all enjoy! This is another one that just kind of popped up out of nowhere. I'm glad for these little one-shots though. They're keeping my creativity alive for now!


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