Drunken countries

It was a simple Saturday night, surprisingly all nations had finished their work so decided to celebrate with drinks. Seeing how this only happened one in a blue moon it was worth celebrating. Most turned up by a few hours into the party: The allies and axis, the Nordics and a few smaller countries (excluding Sealand) like Poland, Sweden, Lithuania, Romano- well, you get the point. England was sat down with America, listening to the 'blubbering fool' babble on about video games and burgers. Ughhh, the Brit found it hard not to just shut up that damn american right this second! However, somehow, England kept his cool, taking longer and bigger gulps of the beer until his face started to form a hot pink hue. Bright and innocent blue eyes looked at England, blinking behind metal rimmed glassed. "Hay, dude, you gettin' sick or something? You wanna use my jacket?" He slipped off the bar stool, slipping off the trademark brown leather and putting it over the blonds shoulders before he could protest. This only increased the pinkness of the mans face and America blinked, confused. "England, buddy, you look like you're gonna pass out or somethin', you drunk?"
"No I'm not bloody drunk, flippin' stupid blond asshat!" America just laughed.
"Whatever dude, you're funny like this." He chuckled, sitting down again. The shirt America wore was loose around the neck, making it look like a scarf and showing off impressive collar bones while tight around the arms and waist, showing off the perfectly toned muscle. The magical nations eyes couldn't help but wander from the gray shirt down, glimpsing at Americas nice legs, his mouth starting to water at the image of having them around his waist and Americas 'fat' ass on his lap. Hm, he may call him fat but he was anything but, it was all muscle, if anywhere was fat it was his ass but damn it was better that way~ "Yo, bro, you falling asleep there? The party just started!" America pouted, drawing England's eyes back up quickly. The emerald eyed man quickly turned back to the bar, keeping his eyes on the bottle before him and narrowing them slightly.
'it's the stupid drink making me like this...I should curse it, then it'll pay...'
"Answer me bro!"
"Bugger off you blundering bloody fool!"
Next was a loved but mostly forgotten Canadian, dressed in a baggy red sweat shirt with a polar bear on the front and baggy blue jeans, sat on the sofa with the one and only Francis. He has his knees close to his chest with the polar bear hugged close to him, not Kuma, just his teddy and sipping some maple whisky- luckily he was smart and paced himself with his drinks. France on the other hand wore a black v-neck, showing the beginning of his firm chest with a blue hoodie- obviously he needed something blue! Plus some deep brown trousers, sipping of course some wine- Rosay to be exact."Mon petit Mathiew, it is good to see you here, it's been all too long, non?"
"Oui papa, much too long, I honestly missed you. it's much to quiet in the house." he smiled, the strange protruding curl bobbing slightly. France laughed softly.
"I shall make sure I visit more mon amour, I cannot let my little Mathew be alone~"He chuckled, ruffling the golden hair. Canada smiled brightly, happy to finally be around someone who noticed him since no one ever did. He felt the couch suddenly shift and an arm be flung around shoulder.
"Hay birdie! Miss me? Of course you did, I'm awesome!" A certain albino grinned his legs, clad in tight black leather trousers, crossed and a beer bottle in his hand, half empty.
"Hello Prussia, how have you been?" He smiled, not noticing the glare France sent to the former nation.
"I've been awesome." He grinned. "What about you birdie? I haven't seen you in ages! And I missed you at the last meeting, Gilbird got sick so I had to stay home." He said, lightly tugging on the drawstring of the red hoodie. Canada looked up at Prussia, his bright blue eyes shimmering.
"Prussia, that's so sweet." He smiled. "I've been...the usual, you know." He couldn't hide the slight sadness concealed in the gentle voice but the Prussian spotted it, holding the bottle between his knees as he cupped Canada's cheek.
"I understand Canada, you want me to come visit more?"
"Well-"
"Non, that won't be necessary Prussia, I already arranged to keep little Mathew company." France butted in, smiling but it...was sort of like one of Russia's smiles, holding promise of deep pain. Red eyes narrowed at the Frenchman. Yes, the two were good friends however still held a healthy rivalry, yet they'd never rivaled over a person- or rather, over another nation. Canada gulped softly, jumping slightly as the music changed. Of course they'd had a dance floor, a lot of the nations already dancing- like Hungary, spain, America, Denmark, Italy and even Turkey. Canada shot back the rest of his whisky and grabbed Prussia's hand, standing up and smiling innocently.
"Hay, let's go dance!" He smiled and looked at France. "Papa, could you take care of him please?" he said, referring to the fluffy white bear. France seemed downhearted but he couldn't say no to Canada's bright smile and nodded. The blond smiled and pulled Prussia onto the dance floor, the lights were a bit more dim and though in normal conditions he'd never do this, he'd rather dance then wait for Prussia and France to attack one another.
"I didn't realize you were much of a dancer." Prussia chuckled, placing a hand on Canada's hip, the other holding his bottle as he started moving in time with the beat. The smaller blushed but moved, relaxing slightly and smiling.
"Well, I like the song." He said, swishing his hips and stepping in time with the beat of One More Night, in honesty it was true, he did like the song, he just partly wished it was a different song for this moment but screw it. I cannot be helped. He hummed lightly, smiling. "And I cross my heart and hope to die~ that I'll only stay with you one more night~" He squeaked as Prussia pulled him close, chuckling. He felt himself grow hot and flustered. /'Try to tell you no, but my body keeps on telling you yes'/ Dammit, was the song just against him right now? He relaxed again, though his heart was thumping as he continued to dance pressed close to Prussia, it'd just be a few minutes. "Hay, Gil," He used his nickname, knowing it would relax him. "How come you and papa are a bit tense? Did you fight?"
His head tilted. "No, we just have our...disagreements is all." He smiled, his hands moving up from the Canadians hip, the baggy hoodie easily letting his hand slip under but he pulled it back, taking a step away. "Heh, sorry." The blond smiled, shaking it off and telling him it was fine. For the rest of the song they just danced, a step between them and Gilbert couldn't help where his eyes wandered over the smaller boy. True, he was dressed in baggy clothing however the boy could move. His swaying of hips and flicks of his hair made Prussia grin. He also had a similar affect on Canada, which made him glad to wear loose clothing. His and Prussia's clothing were polar opposites, while his gave away nothing, Prussia's left nothing to the imagination. And he meant nothing!
When the song was done Canada sat back down with a small puff, making the curl bounce. "That was fun, heh." He smiled, hugging France for taking care of his precious polar bear and hugging the teddy, nuzzling the soft head. France nodded, sipping his drink and giving him a smile.
"I'm glad you had fun mon amour."
"Yeah, I'm gonna get another drink, one of you joining me?" Canada asked with a smile. France had a bottle on the table so he had no excuse and Prussia still had half a bottle left. He was weary to leave them both alone but gave in, smiling as he walked to the bar. He decided to just get a bottle of the whisky, so he wouldn't have to leave the two alone. The last thing he wanted was for a fight to break out between the two. He slipped between the two, sipping a his drink and Prussia's eyebrows raised.
"I didn't take you for a spirits type of person."
"Well, it's maple flavor, I love maple!" He said eagerly before hs face got serious. "Just because I look soft doesn't mean I am." As that was said France smirked and wrapped an arm around Canada, poking the boys cheek.
"He tells the truth dear Prussia, after all, he is my boy~ I'm sure he takes after me more that Angleterre." France grinned and Canada returned it, that's when Prussia saw the similar gleam in both their eyes. He was curious...just how much was Canada like France?
Moving back tot he dance floor, Spain was tugging on a tipsy Romano, trying to convince him to dance while he growled. "Piss of tomato bastardo! I told you, I don't dance!" Spain chuckled, lacing their fingers and yanking Romano close, his other arm wrapping around the boys waist.
"Si, but You are dancing with my Lovi~" He pulled him closer, chuckling as the Italian flushed red. Ah Lovi was his little tomato~ He pulled him onto the floor, just as the song changed to 'Glad You Came', swishing and grinding on the boy and, though Romano would deny it, he joined, grinding back as swishing. For some reason, his tension seemed to slip away to blasting music and flashing lightly, and to Spain's hands that worked from his hips up his sides and down, giving his ass a squeeze. "P-Pervertire bastardo." He muttered, burying his face in the tanned skin of Spain's neck, exposed by his open collar shirt, the top three buttons open. Before he knew it his back was pressed against Spain's warm chest, an arm wrapped around the tanned neck as he tipped his head back to stare up at the hypnotizing green eyes of the powerful nation. The country of passion, passion that was consuming Romano and making his true urges and feeling for Spain become exposed for everyone to see, but for now he just couldn't find a reason to care, he just enjoyed the feeling. All other things became unimportant, just Spain mattered, his glittering emeralds, his soft chestnut hair and his tempting lips. Romano s eyes slipped half closed, pressing back into Spain as he leaned up, pressing his lips to the others in a deep but soft kiss. The small Italian gasped, feeling himself span and kissed deeper, a tongue that tasted of paella and sherry plus a spice that was not describable. Spain. As if like a switch, Romano's eyes opened, frowning and shoving Spain back. "What are you-a doing the jerk bastard! Touching and kissing me like-a that! You have-a no right!" Spain's head tilted before he gave a soft smile.
"Pero, mi amigo, I do have the right. You like at my home, no? I feed and home you, you are mi propiedad, Romano~" His smile slipped to a sly grin and he lead the protesting male to the bathrooms, pressing him into a stall and licking down the olive skin of Lovis neck. Romano's lips pressed together, trying to hold in any sounds that may leave his mouth. Teeth grazed the smooth skin and Romano's knees buckled, growling as he glared at Spain, tears in the corners of his eyes as he tried to hide the pleasure he felt. Luckily, Spain held the boy up, taking his chin and tipping it up, smirking as the Spaniard licked his lips.
"Mmm, Lovi, you look so delicious~" He leaned in and his Italian became a tomato again, ripe and ready for tasting~ So, whether Romano was ready or not, he was doing to be deflowered, Spain could no longer hold back.
"Germany! Germany! Lookie, these drinks taste really good." Italy smiled brightly, hugging Germany. It was hard for the German to tell whether the other was drunk or just how he normally is, since it was normal for the Italian to sound over happy and trip over his own feet.
"Ja, whatever, just don't hurt yourself Italy." He sighed softly. "And if you want, you can go flirt with the girls. I mean, this is a night off so why not?" He said, sipping his pint of beer. The gorgeous hazel eyes of the Italian blinked at the buff German before his arms were flung around the pale neck.
"But Geeermaaannnyyy! I don't want-a to flirt with the girls, I want-a to flirt with someone else." He hummed, nuzzling Germany's neck and the male gulped, feeling the skin near Italy's mouth heat up under the others hot breath. Dammit Italy and his clueless actions, damn him to hell! His blond eye brow twitched when Italy didn't move.
"Hetalia! Off me!"
"but you said no rules, so I can hug you all I want~" He giggled, nuzzling the slicked back hair. Germany almost jumped up when he felt a tongue on his ear. He pushed Italy back, blushing. Italy just laughed, giggling. "Aww, Germany you're like Lovino! You're all red!" He smiled, swaying lightly, the curl bouncing happily on his head. Germany didn't know what to do, Italy was making his very uncomfortable and he couldn't come out and say why, that'd just be too humiliating to tell Italy he was turning him on! Germany face-palmed, taking a big drink of his beer. He turned to Italy, giving him a smile. "Like who? Romano?" He laughed, trying to loosen up. Maybe having a joke would help him relax and lighten the mood. Italy however pouted, shaking his head.
"Nooo, don't be silly Germany!" He grabbed Germany's hand, tugging him. "Come danceee! Pleaseeeeeee?~"
"ugh, hold on." He said, downing the rest of his beer and wiping his lips, following Italy onto the dance floor. He didn't really know how to dance, also he was just wearing his uniform, green pants and the white vest top, his cross dangling around his neck and his gloves. He awkwardly shuffled, not sure what to do. Italy was happily moving with ease to the beat, used to dancing and partying. Germany tried to copy Italy but making it into his own sort of style so he didn't look ridiculous.
"You're a pretty good dancer Germany, I didn't know you could dance!~"
"I can't." He huffed. "I'm dancing what you want me to." Germany said as he blushed, looking away. Sure, he was doing this for Italy's sake but Italy didn't need to know... Ugh, what's done is done, just work with it! He opened his eyes, noticing how close Italy had gotten and jumping back. "E-eh..."
"What's-a wrong Germany?" He hummed, skipping back close to the German, smiling. "This is fun, si?"
"Ja, I suppose so." he shrugged, happily moving about the floor and a smirk starting to dance on the corners of his lips.
By the end of the night, the place was left in a state, discarded articles of clothing laying the floor as well as alcohol spills and cans/bottles. There was a white fluffy bear left on the leather sofa, a brown leather jacket left on the bar and a certain Germans green army hat left on a bar stool.
What happened on that night, under the eyes on the moon and starts shall never be shared...
Or shall it?~