What Happens At The Bar Stays At England's House

American Idiot

Hey guys so I dedicate this chapter to my friend AnnieCrestaDistrict4 because she's the Queen of Smut. Also becasue she told me to...

Also wanna thank TheFullmetalAlfred for helping me write this whole story!

Also yes... I called this chapter 'American Idiot' like the Green Day song. It was gonna be 'America You Idiot' But I think 'American Idiot' is better

I wanna also dedicate this chapter title to Tre from Green Day. People have been sending him a lot of hate on Instagram and I just wanna say that we're all here for him and we're not gonna let any of those retards get to him! We love you Tre you brave little soldier you!

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What Happens At The Bar Stays At England's House

Chapter 6:

American Idiot

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"What?!" "You heard me," said America.

"Undress me!"

He leant forward slightly.

M-maybe nothing will happen! Thought England, so freaked out that even his thoughts had a stutter. Maybe the stupid git'll just end up running to the bathroom for a puke and he'll totally forget what he said after that! Yes, sounds like the kind of bollocks this eejit would pull, especially since the wanker's legless as hell!

Alas, America simply continued to stare at him with his 'seductive' gaze, hiccuping every so often. He was moving ever closer, leaning towards his target.

"C'mon, England..."

"B-bugger off!" England exclaimed, for a lack of reasonable arguments.

I could try running away and hiding 'til he drops...but where will I hide? My whole sodding house is just one great dead end! The only rooms with locks are the bathroom and the basement, but if this twat does end up tossing his biscuits... And I'll never make it to the basement faster than him! He might be drunk but he'll still outrun me!

As America continued to press against him, England realised he was wasting valuable running time.

Sod it! He thought and tried to bolt, but it was too late - America had him pinned.

"Oi, wanker-!" England began to shout. His cry was smothered as the nation holding him down interrupted.

"Sssssshhhh," he crooned, putting a finger on the big-browed nation's lips. He pulled it away as it was in danger of being bitten.

"Stop that. Stop shoutin' and complainin' all the time or I'mma hafta shut ya up." He smirked. "With my lips."

If England could have gone any redder, he would have just done so. "Wh-what are you talking about?!"

"Y'know what I'm talkin' bout..." America drawled, leaning towards his fellow nation. "Iggy..."

"I-I-I told you not to call me that!" England spluttered, edging away. "And no, I don't have a bloody clue what you're insinuating!"

When the elder of the pair had run out of sofa to move along, the younger didn't hesitate to exploit it. He kept England pinned on his back, pressing his hands against his chest.

"C'mon, y'know y'wanna..."

"No! I don't!" exclaimed England, blushing madly. "America, you are very, very drunk, and you should get off me right now before you do something we both regret - like throwing up on me!" He looked away. "Or worse."