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Post by America on Apr 6, 2012 20:35:30 GMT -5
oh, dear lord, I'm out all day and I come back to this. XDAmerica blinked, then looked back down at his shirt. Why couldn't he just go like this? Not that he was a fashion expert, but he thought he looked rather fine. Besides, he hadn't the time to iron any of his shirts, what with his alarm waking him up late (or, rather, him just hitting the 'snooze' button over and over, but that was beside the point).
Still, England, the guy who always seemed to wear suits and knew how to wear dress shirts casually, said his shirt needed fixing so, by golly it needed fixing! America wasn't about to argue over it anymore. "Wherever you think is fine," he replied, quickly losing his initial embarrassment when he realized that England just wanted to help him. "We don't have to get a room, if you don't want to, but somewhere less...less crowded would be nice."
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Post by England on Apr 6, 2012 21:24:15 GMT -5
Get crazy, get wild! "Wherever you'd get comfortable enough to take your clothes off." England shrugged. "I'd rather we go into a dressing room, or something. I can make do without, but I think your shirt needs a magic touch from the iron." he nudged him with his head towards the exit. "Come on. Let's do this quickly before anyone realizes we're gone."
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Post by America on Apr 6, 2012 21:57:22 GMT -5
America nodded, making his way for the exit. "An iron? Is there an iron around here?" He didn't think there was, but maybe England packed one away. Maybe he knew this would happen. He is prepared constantly, no matter what. Well, no use on America dwelling on it. Frankly, he didn't care what he looked like so long as he made it fine. If England was going to get his panties in a knot over it, America would let him.
Besides, maybe straightening his clothes out wouldn't be too bad of a thing. After all, shouldn't a hero look his best?
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Post by [x] Norway on Apr 6, 2012 22:27:50 GMT -5
(i take it you guys read the posts! XD This is what happens when you leave us alone together!)
Norway whinned Prussia's name as he continued to make friction between there hips. It felt amazing to him, so amazing that he felt his 'Little Norawy' started popping up. Norway blushed red and somewhat tugged at his own shirt to cover Prussia from seeing it. While one hand was hiding it, the other was again at Prussia's buttons. One by one un doing them until the shirt was opened.Then slowly and nervously, he pushed the shirt off of his shoulders so it was only hanging by Prussia's arms.
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Post by [x] Spain on Apr 7, 2012 11:20:36 GMT -5
((This is getting awkward on my end. XDD))
The whines and the moans from the room next door were quickly becoming louder and louder. By that point, Spain had already figured out that it was indeed his best friend and Norway (for obvious reasons) and was beginning to get incredibly uncomfortable.
I can't take it anymore. His face's temperature now rivaling the sun's, he quickly left his room and decided to head into the church, where hopefully the other nation's weren't being as intimate. Though if he had the courage and the lack of awkwardness, he would chastise Prussia and Norway then and there for what they were doing - and in a church no less!
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Post by china on Apr 8, 2012 0:16:20 GMT -5
China was at the back of the church, feeling heretic for being in a Church and not entirely sure if his government could deal with catholic worship right now.
He heard moans through the wall and moved up twenty paces to another seat, shutting his Shinatty-chan cellphone off with a click.
China bent his head to the side and let it tilt it's cheek to rest on his hand.
"They're allowed to do that in churches but your banned from eating during the service? Aiyah. Hypocrites."
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Post by [x] Norway on Apr 9, 2012 0:06:54 GMT -5
(i feel bad for Spain now~)
Norway continued to kiss Prussia with as much passion as the one small nation could muster. Somewere he heard someone pass by the door and leave in a hurry, but Norway could careless now. He just wanted to touch and kiss Prussia and for Prussia to do the same to him.
Still hiding the growing buldge of his 'Little Norway' from Prussia, he started undoing his own buttons on his jacket and dress shirt with one hand. Once the jacket was finally off, he tried taking off the dress shirt but the continuing friction between his own hips and Prussia's was clouding his head.
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Post by England on Apr 9, 2012 11:21:23 GMT -5
"America, come along." England motioned him over to the hallway, then to a door that led to an empty dressing room. He turned on the light and walked inside, making sure that nobody was using it. He let America walk in behind him before closing and locking the door and heading for the closet to look for an iron and a board.
"While I get what we need and warm it up, how about you start taking your clothes off?" he suggested, hoping someone had gotten the bright idea to stock up for things like this.
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Post by America on Apr 9, 2012 19:33:38 GMT -5
America glanced around the room for a second, wondering how on earth kept an iron in heir closet. But, hey, he never really went into dressing rooms too often, so maybe it was like a necessity or something. Still, he wasn't going to get worked up over it either way. If there was an iron, England could do his magic, if not, England could bitch. Either one was cool with him, really.
"Yeah, sure," he replied, shrugging the jacket off his shoulders. He struggled with the tie for a few seconds, but was finally able to pull that off (undoing England's lovely knot, he felt a bit bad), and, finally, he stripped himself of the shirt. Now he was feeling rather awkward standing there half-naked. He carefully laid out his clothes on a nearby chair. "So, when will the wedding actually start?" he asked, hopefully trying to make some sort of chit-chat.
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Post by England on Apr 9, 2012 22:44:58 GMT -5
"I don't know. Whenever the bride and groom are ready, I guess. Or maybe they're all waiting after you because you decided to show up improperly dressed." England huffed, clicking his tongue as he closed the closet doors with no results.
"In any case, I can't let you go outside wearing a wrinkled shirt, especially not to a wedding, so if I can just find-" and then England made the mistake of turning around. And facing America.
Damn. America sure had grown up since the last time England had seen him. The fact that he was almost at America's chest-level didn't help his wandering gaze a single bit.
"I'LL LOOK OVER THERE!" he exclaimed very suddenly, ripping his gaze away from America's half-naked body and turning around, clenching his teeth and trying to suppress the heavy blush that had suddenly overtaken his cheeks.
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Post by America on Apr 10, 2012 19:12:07 GMT -5
America blinked at England's sudden outburst. "Uh, okay...I don't think they'd have one in plain sight, though." He stared at England's back, trying to figure out why he was so nervous and awkward. I guess they didn't have an iron in the closet. Is he upset he couldn't find one? Or...
He ran his fingers through his blond hair, unsure now of what to say. If it was really going to be this awkward for me to take off my shirt, he should have told me. In all honesty, America wouldn't mind putting his shirt back on. Standing like this was a bit uncomfortable, especially when England starting acting weird (and when they were behind closed, locked doors with just the two of them...France might get ideas).
Trying to conceal the nerve-wracking tensions that enveloped the room, he said, "Actually, I doubt they'd have an iron in here at all. Do you keep irons in dressing rooms? Or ironing boards?"
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Post by England on Apr 11, 2012 11:15:26 GMT -5
"Do you have a better idea, Mr Smart Guy?" England huffed, crossing his arms as he realized that maybe he should have thought things through first. And he would absolutely NOT admit that America was most probably right. He himself didn't even know why he'd been in such a hurry to get them out of public eye.
"Unless we find a utility closet or something in the hallway where they could possibly keep an iron and board, I guess we'll have to try and make you look presentable without." And, taking a deep breath and calming his nerves, he turned around, looking America straight in the eye as he tried not to divert his gaze. "So. Are you going to help me save your nonexistent reputation, or not?"
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Post by America on Apr 11, 2012 19:50:08 GMT -5
Falling back into the chair and draping his arms over the sides, America pouted. "I don't see why I should help," he retorted, giving a yawn. "Whenever my clothes are wrinkly, I usually throw them in the dryer or something to fluff them up." If he could even bother doing that. More often than not, he'd pull on his bomber's jacket, or an equally comfortable one, in hopes that it could cover the wrinkles in his shirt.
"Besides, everyone knows I'm the hero." He sent a grin over to England. "I doubt a few wrinkles in my shirt will change that."
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Post by England on Apr 12, 2012 23:52:35 GMT -5
"A few wrinkles? It looks like you slept on this shirt yesterday night." England berated, turning around to avoid having his gaze swept away by... Well...
Details.
"Alright, if there is no iron, I guess we could do this the hard way." he sighed and removed his jacket, putting it carefully on a chair, and then rolling up his sleeves. Taking America's shirt, he spread it on the table in front of the mirror, and grabbed the water spray from the hair-dressing section.
As he sprayed the shirt, he peeked up into the mirror, watching America subtly as he sat in the chair. The way he was practically sprawled in the chair, toned arms hanging off the sides, dim light glinting off his perfect chest, those beautiful blue eyes scouring the room in search of what England guessed was a form of distraction...
He interrupted himself with an embarrassed cough and returned to spraying with more vigour, wondering what the hell his train of thought had been all about.
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Post by America on Apr 13, 2012 19:25:00 GMT -5
"For your information," America started, watching with growing curiosity as England sprayed his shirt with water. "I didn't sleep in it. I just kinda had to grab one from some pile of clothing. No biggie, I do it a lot." He scratched his head, raising his eyebrows when he saw how wet his shirt was becoming.
At first, he had decided to just keep quiet and let England do all the work, but now this was driving him mad. "Iggy, what the hell are you doing to my shirt?' he asked, standing from his spot on the chair and making his way over. "I'm not gonna wear it when it's dripping like that!"
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