Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/954129.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Hetalia:_Axis_Powers
  Relationship:
      france/spain/america, france/spain/prussia/america
  Character:
      America_(Hetalia:_Axis_Powers), France_(Hetalia:_Axis_Powers), Spain_
      (Hetalia:_Axis_Powers), Prussia_(Hetalia:_Axis_Powers), England_(Hetalia:
      Axis_Powers), Holy_Roman_Empire_(Hetalia:_Axis_Powers)
  Additional Tags:
      Threesome, Foursome, Historical, American_Revolution, Slash
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-09-04 Words: 5540
****** Let's Start a Revolution ******
by lovelessly
Summary
     (Extremely old kink meme fill reposted for archival purposes)
     The idea started out as bit of a joke, and then I decided to do a
     combo using two Hetalia kink meme prompts: 1) American Revolution -
     France and Spain join the war. Hot sexytimes ensure. and 2) France,
     Spain, and Prussia all helped out America during his revolution. It
     would be awesome if America was still a virgin -much to the Trios
     surprise- and as such, they believe it is their responsibility to
     "teach" Alfred~. In other words, an almost historically accurate
     trilogy for our favorite trio.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
PART I - PROLOGUE
“We’re really going to do it,” America breathed, excitement shining in his
eyes. “We’re really going to fight the British, and we’re going to win!” He
turned to the nation at his side, glanced over his shoulder at the nation
following behind, as if seeking confirmation of his hopes and dreams.
Spain chuckled low in his throat, and France only smiled fondly at America, the
ever-indulging parent. There was no possible way this upstart colony, made up
of farmers and outcasts and common rabble, could ever win against England’s
superior might, and yet here they both were, openly lending their strength to
his folly. But of course, they expected to gain something from this alliance,
whether or not America won, and it was definitely worth incurring England’s
wrath.
For now, Spain nodded to his brother nation, dark eyes alight with certain
intent, and France pulled the boy to his side, whispering words of
encouragement in his ears, tantalizingly soft, so that America unconsciously
leaned in closer to hear. America, sweet thing, was all fresh-faced innocence,
exuding brashness and cleverness and aching emptiness and loneliness, and
France knew just what to do to secure the other’s trust, the trust that England
had so stupidly rejected. A kind word here, a helping hand there, actually
listening to what his writers and philosophers had to say, why, he barely had
to exert himself before the rebel colony was wrapped around his aristocratic
fingers.
Those aristocratic fingers were currently caressing the soft skin of America’s
face, tracing across the boyish jawline with a feather-light touch. “Mm, yes,
that’s a good boy, dear America… Ah, but you are a man now, correct?”
At that, America nodded proudly, flushed with delight, his mind reeling from
the compliments which he should have realized for what they truly meant. It did
not even need to be said aloud, that England had been most sparing with his
praise for the boy, and distracted by the prospect of other colonies around the
world, his correspondence with America had become less and less personal, to
the point that America gratefully accepted the support of the nations he had
once been warned about.
“France, you… you’ve always helped me so much, thank you, m-merci,” he
stuttered, eyes widening as the older nation drew him close, one hand at the
small of his back, clutching the rough-woven fabric of his coat tightly.
America gasped slightly as France bent his head and nuzzled at his throat, and
he shivered from the tickling sensation.
“Wh-what are you doing, papa? Stop playing around!” He was clearly trying to
sound in control, like a real man, but oh, he was so far from that, it was
quite adorable.
France laughed softly in anticipation, and he could not miss Spain’s sudden
look of unfeigned interest as he moved in closer behind the colony. What a good
brother Spain turned out to be, even if he acted unbearably clueless in other
matters.
Before he knew it, America was being guided to his knees with firm hands at his
shoulders, the others kneeling as well, France in front, Spain pressed against
his back, their hands gently running down his sides and across his chest and
thighs.
“Come, mon fils, let us celebrate this day… the French way.” The way he said it
had America staring at him, soft pink lips parted so charmingly, perfectly
ready to be taken, taken away from that bastard England.
“The Spanish way…” Spain added, his voice practically radiating desire, sensing
and reflecting the older nation’s lust a thousandfold.
“The Prussian way,” said a nearby bush.
-----------------------------
PART II - IN A WIN WIN SITUATION
America looked between the two with a slightly confused smile on his face,
unaware of what was about to happen. All he knew was that both France and Spain
were offering themselves as his allies, and they intend to actually help him
fight against England. He was not going to turn down such an awesome offer, and
hell, even the talking bush off to the side agreed that they should do it.
(Which meant God was on their side, right? Because everyone knew bushes didn’t
talk unless they were talking with the voice of God - well, everyone who wasn’t
heathen, anyway.)
“So… how are we going to do this alliance thing, huh?” Even though America knew
France and Spain throughout most of his young life, he did not know much about
their culture outside of what England had told him, which did not amount to
much in the way of facts but which did include a wide variety of insults and
dire warnings. “Don’t we need wine or something, to toast with?”
“Ah, mon cher, we could do that, but supplies are a precious resource and
should be saved for your armies. Trust me, Spain and I have a more… efficient
way to work out treaties.”
France had been unbuttoning America’s vest and shirt quite discreetly so that
the colony realized, too late, and tried to push the restless hands away from
his exposed chest with an uneasy laugh. Without knowing he was doing so,
America shivered as Spain kissed his temple and gently drew him down to the
ground, to lie on top of his coat.
“There is no need to be so nervous, America. We are allies now, partners…
Equals,” France whispered into the boy’s ear, placing seductive emphasis on the
last word. Those bright sea-blue eyes found his, the fervid hope and pride in
them a more beautiful thanks than any he had ever received.
“And this, this is how we shall seal our alliance, as equals,” Spain murmured,
looking down with lazy satisfaction at the upturned face, his dark fingers
caressing the smooth pale skin, brushing over the long gangly limbs just
fleshing out into adulthood.
He was not sure how much he liked lying down like this, with France hovering
over him almost possessively, Spain pressed close to his brother nation’s side,
a hungry, strangely tender look in their eyes. But they were his allies now,
they would never hurt him, and he wanted to be a real nation like them, and -
and he absolutely needed them, as much as he wished otherwise sometimes.
Tamping down his singing nerves with a heroic effort, America reached up to
hook an arm around France’s elegantly clad shoulder, to pull him down closer so
that the older nation’s hair, half-sliding out of its ribbon, fell around their
nearly-touching faces like a golden veil. “But you’ll have to tell me what to
do,” he whispered, so innocent.
“Hush, I know, I know,” and he gifted the boy with another kiss right on the
edge of his sweet mouth. All this because England did not want his precious
colony to ally with any other nation, wanted to keep him weak and naïve and
dependent. France could almost feel thankful for that one’s foolishness, but
instead of gloating, he schooled his expression into one most loving and
empathetic.
“Do not worry, Papa will take care of you. We all will. We want you to win,
America. Even Prussia…” France murmured, winking at Spain, who managed to look
both adorably scandalized and thoroughly turned on at the idea.
“Oh God, Prussia?” America breathed, with not one of them realizing the rather
humorous implication of this statement. “Is he here, too?”
“Err, he…” Spain looked up and then back down, as America had somehow remained
utterly oblivious of the rustling in the shrubbery. “He… might be here. I know
for a fact he would want to be here.”
“That’s, that’s so…” He did not get to finish his sentence before France set
his lips against his mouth, and America nearly choked at the sensation of
another’s tongue sliding in between his teeth. The kiss was raw and forceful
and tasted of too much wine, but he thought he rather liked it, especially once
he felt warm fingers pressing on his chest, rubbing against his bruised ribs
and teasing over his nipples. America closed his eyes to savor these new
exciting feelings, but was forced to open them as soon as France’s mouth left
his. Did he do something wrong, he wanted to ask, and Spain’s answering kiss,
hot and passionate, assured him he was doing just fine.
So thoroughly did Spain occupy the colony’s attention, France then decided to
focus on a much more interesting area. Ever so carefully, he placed one hand in
between America’s still clothed legs, and smiled as his kneading caresses
caused the boy to twitch and make soft whimpering noises.
“France, you-” America muttered under his breath, his face flushed a bright
red, and Spain used this opportunity to reach down and push against France’s
hand, hard. The body underneath theirs jerked at the sudden combined pressure,
and the boyish gasp of pleasure made for such a satisfying sound.
“P-please, I want…” Well, he did not really know what he wanted, only that he
wanted France and Spain to give it to him now, like England never would.
America shut his eyes tightly, trying to keep another moan from escaping his
lips as France dragged his trousers down with utmost patience, as Spain placed
wet scorching kisses down from his collarbone to his navel and a little below.
They were whispering to him now in their own languages, and he could not quite
catch all of the sibilant noises, though he could feel the meanings clearly
vibrating on his skin, through his very bones, racing up his spinal cord and
sparking marvelous white fireworks in the redness behind his eyelids. But that
was nothing compared to the heavy heat between his legs, and he welcomed their
fingers touching him, stroking him and bringing him to that sought-after
release.
What part of his mind that could still form coherent thoughts hated England
even more for keeping this from him.
 
The Holy Roman Empire stood at the doorway, watching impassively as England
shoved his desk over, scattering maps and books, pens and ink with a thunderous
noise. He was beyond angry, now reaching into ice cold fury because simple rage
was not nearly enough for a betrayal of this degree.
“They’ve allied with him now, just to spite me and make a mockery of what I’ve
done.” His voice sounded sane enough, but the young nation knew better than to
interrupt. “France, I can understand, as bankrupt as he is in both money and
morals, and Spain, he has to borrow his common sense from that wine bastard…
But then Prussia decides to join in as well? I suppose you’re going to tell me
that he likes to do this for fun.”
England clenched and unclenched his fists, then stalked out of the room, his
back straight, unyielding. “Prepare your soldiers, Holy Roman Empire. We are
going to war.”
 
--------------------------
PART III - IN A LOSE LOSE SITUATION
“Stupid fucking Catholics,” Prussia muttered quietly. Because that’s what they
were. Catholic, though who knows how long it has been since France actually
attended service… Stupid, because no one in their right mind would want to mess
with England, which meant they had no right minds... And fucking, fucking as if
there was no tomorrow, on the kid’s own bed, in the middle of the day…
“Hey, are you two even listening to me? We got a serious problem here!”
The two turned to glare at him evilly, daring him to continue interrupting
their foreplay. Spain achieved slightly more success, due to France’s current
indisposition, but Prussia glared right back at them, unabashed. As much as he
enjoyed watching them from behind whatever shrubbery he could find, there was a
time and place for fucking. Now, when they were trying to negotiate the
repayments of loans with a brand new nation, was not a good time.
“Look, I know the brat’s got some relationship issues, but I don’t think he
understands all of the terms of an alliance between nations. Especially in
regards to repayment.”
Shrugging, Spain resumed biting and sucking his way across France’s bared
chest, while France lazily twirled a lock of his hair around a finger.
“You were there, Prussia, you know how, ah, it went,” France rasped, his sultry
voice gone hoarse from all of the discord fomenting back home.
“Yeah, and I know you two didn’t actually fuck him. What the hell kind of
alliance is that? Half-assed, that’s what it is.”
Spain and France looked at each other, then at Prussia. “Are you saying…?”
“Gott.” No, he couldn’t believe he was saying this of a colony raised under the
guardianship (such as it was) of three of the horniest countries in western
Europe, but it was undeniable. “I am saying that America is still a virgin.
Still.” Extra emphasis on the last word.
Spain’s grin was brilliant white against tan skin, and his eyes sparkled with
dawning realization. “Ah, ah, I was busy with mis hijos otros, I have a lot of
them! Besides, it would be hypocritical of me, as much as I would love to…”
Knowing exactly what Spain meant, France chuckled under his breath
sympathetically, but it was not a comforting, friendly type of sound. “As for
me, I have no excuse to be so lax in my fatherly duties, unless one of those
duties included fighting his… former sovereign nation. But see, I am now paying
the price for my lack of foresight, non?” He sighed dramatically, hand to
forehead, while Spain paused to give him a look of affectionate smugness. “Even
though I gave him my undying adoration and support - the injustice of it all!”
“All right, we don’t need to hear any more of your bitching,” Prussia
interrupted before France wore his voice out again, though he thought that
might actually be desirable in this situation. “The point is, we have a virgin
nation who needs to be taught a little something about keeping trust with his
peers. Since we’re all here, I think we might as well do the instruction. Light
a fire under his ass, if you know what I mean.”
“Something like that,” France murmured, with a good attempt at a leer.
“What, all three of us?” Spain’s interest was perked.
“Well, I was going to suggest racing to his bedroom, but seeing as we already
took care of that…” Prussia raised an eyebrow suggestively, and then grinned
like the Devil himself when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. “And here
we go…”
 
America heard familiar voices coming from his room, and hoping against hope
that this will be good news for once, opened the door with a tired smile.
“Hey, Prussia. Oh, Spain and France, too?” He tried his best to sound casual
and grown-up, but his face was already heating up with embarrassment at seeing
Spain and France in blatantly compromising positions, Prussia clearly not
bothered by the sight. Closing the door behind him, America shuffled his feet
nervously.
“Err, can I help you?”
“Why, yes, as a matter of fact, you can,” Prussia said, while France and Spain
snickered in the background.
“If it’s about the money I owe you, I’m working on it, honest. I just need some
more time. Like… ten more years.” Was it him, or was it getting noticeably
warmer in here? The other three seemed comfortable, basking in the heat like
lizards of the more carnivorous persuasion.
“Good to hear, kid. But we were thinking of a discussion of another type. A
more… physical conversation.” Swiftly, Prussia got to his feet, grabbing
America by the arm and twisting it behind his back. Taken by surprise, because
normally he would have been able to break free, America found himself marched
to the bed, where the other two had separated at last, exposed flesh only
partially covered by clothing.
The young nation felt one of Prussia’s hands yank at the buttons on his vest,
watched in increasing worry as Spain slid off the mattress and knelt on the
floor, firmly tugging one of his shoes off.
“H-hey! I thought we already… signed the treaty! This isn’t necessary, is it?”
If it wasn’t already difficult to distract Prussia and Spain from their tasks,
then it was nigh impossible once France stood up and started fiddling with his
cravat.
“Oui, oui, but mon fils, we are not finished with you,” France whispered into
his ear, throwing the tie to the ground to join the vest and shoes. “Come, you
two, let’s get him on the bed. He is our host, after all, we must not be
ungrateful.”
They practically tripped America onto the mattress, and heart skipping
unnaturally fast, he reached automatically for a weapon that alas, had been
divested by the former conquistador.
“I’m not a child anymore---“
“We are aware of that.”
“And I know what you’re trying to pull. There’s no need for this, we’ll get
things paid back. Eventually...”
“You need a reminder, America, plain and simple. The point of alliance is that
you take and you give.” Prussia cracked his knuckles in a manner France thought
was much too menacing to be seductive.
“In return for our assistance, you have to lose something in return. Something
that only you possess, something that we want. Now.” Spain had pulled out that
expression of his normally reserved for Romano or his own colonies, and behind
him, France rolled his eyes to the heavens, pleading for patience to deal with
these unsubtle buffoons.
It was three against one, and while they looked somewhat worse for the wear,
France in particular, America had seen them fight before. They were fast and
clever, and more importantly, they had experience on their side. They would get
what they want in the end, so really, there was no point in delaying the
inevitable. Besides, America thought defiantly, why shouldn’t he want it, too?
Puritan upbringing be damned, he wasn’t England’s colony anymore. His body was
his to do with as he wished, right? That last time definitely felt good, so
good he could not help but replay the scene in his mind sometimes, whenever he
was alone in bed… This time it should feel even better.
“All right, fine,” America assented, trying to not blush and blushing even
harder knowing that he failed. “It better be worth my time. I have a treasury
to fix, you know.”
 
Reclining back on the bed, America watched the three whisper amongst
themselves, a conversation that consisted of a lot of teasing and kissing and
not a lot of clothing. He frowned - ever since he broke from England, and even
before then, he rarely saw other nations and so envied these three their shared
history - and then caught himself in time.
“Hey, I don’t have all day!” he called out in what he felt was a very mature
tone of voice.
They came to an agreement a few seconds later, and Spain broke off to sit
beside him, smiling warmly. With signature languid grace, France made himself
comfortable at the foot of the bed, Prussia kneeling behind him to eagerly peel
the expensive silk shirt off of his shoulders.
“Watch them,” Spain murmured, lips brushing against the bright hair, and
America’s wide-eyed gaze flicked to where Prussia had initiated something
obscene with the gleefully willing France. Bodies pressed close together, rosy
gold skin against ghost-white, hands roaming where they will, France’s arm
reaching back to clutch at Prussia’s hair, while Prussia snarled and bit down
on the other’s throat, eliciting a throaty groan that made America’s breath
hitch.
So engrossed in watching, cheeks burning scarlet at the scandalous sight before
him, America did not notice Spain reaching for the waistband of his breeches
until they and his undergarments were already yanked down to his ankles. He
almost kicked out in reflex, but instead steeled himself and pushed the
material off of his feet as best as he could while Spain helpfully unbuttoned
his shirt.
Unable to resist the temptation, Spain bent forward to kiss America hungrily,
making his way down the tantalizingly bare throat and chest, amused to see the
boy try to focus on all three of them at the same time. What an innocent, how
did they ever let this child slip through their fingers! (Well, obviously it
was because of England, so irritable and possessive and always threatening to
slice their manhoods off if they ever got near his colonies.) But never mind
that, they would take care of this oversight soon enough…
“Oy, Spain, are you getting him ready?” Prussia muttered through a mouthful of
France’s hair, jealously noting how Spain’s attention had slipped already. The
nation in question sighed and leaned over the side of the bed, rummaging
through their discarded clothes. Seriously, it was a good thing he was here to
boss them around, Prussia thought, otherwise they’d never get anything done.
Being the nation of l’amour, France was not one to let his mind wander during
the ever-important act of making love, but even as Prussia’s fingers closed
around that very vital region, the otherwise erotic sensation was partially
reduced by the fact that Prussia was still wearing trousers, and itchy ones at
that. Mon dieu, did that cocky bastard have no sense of romance whatsoever? At
least Spain was getting somewhere, judging from the sudden boyish yelp.
“A-ah!” America cried out, squirming helplessly against the unexpected
intrusion. Spain laid a gentle hand against the youth’s thigh, making soothing
noises even as he carefully inserted a second oiled finger, then a third. The
poor boy gasped in surprise and clenched his teeth, arms clutching for
something to hold onto, and Spain returned to the task of kissing him into
oblivion.
It would never be known what America thought once Prussia shoved France
forward, face first onto America’s abdomen, France automatically opening his
mouth to do what he did best. One could only assume he was not thinking about
much in particular, as France sucking on your cock like a sex fiend tended to
empty your mind of anything resembling intelligence.
On cue, Spain moved back to lick at the pink nipples he had been eyeing, though
one hand was still stretching the young nation open in anticipation.
Prussia watched all of this, grinning triumphantly at the sight before him, a
virgin colony wrested from the protection of a mighty kingdom, now theirs to
toy with as they pleased. America’s flushed face was wracked with the twin
ecstasies of Spain and France working at his body, unable to do much more than
cry out their names whenever they hit a particularly good spot, his cracking,
desperate voice like music to their ears. Almost absent-mindedly, Prussia used
the one hand not pumping at France’s cock to spread the boy’s legs further
apart, and right on time, France released the boy, taking a deep breath of air.
Spain chuckled to himself, freeing his fingers from America with a wet sound,
and with that invitation, France eagerly plunged into the waiting tightness
presented to him, hardly needing the encouraging growl from behind his
shoulder.
Tilting his head back, America gasped loudly, his body arcing upward at the
impact, another moan tearing free from his throat as France slowly pushed in
all the way.
“Relax, mon couer, just relax, you are doing well…” France murmured, all
fatherly indulgence, voice almost throbbing with the mixed pain and pleasure
plucking at his nerves, at the gratifying, incredible awareness of claiming
what should have been England’s, but now would be his. The young nation
whimpered again as France started moving, seeking and then finding that spot
that would bring America to completion, though it would be a while before they
would allow him to come.
One of Prussia’s arms had wrapped around France’s waist, the other snaking up
to silence the older nation with two fingers pressed on his tongue. His crimson
eyes fixed on America, or rather France fucking America, taking in the boy’s
deflowering avidly, as if he took more satisfaction from observing than in
completing the act himself. Which may very well be true, though Prussia would
never say.
In the meantime, Spain kissed America once more, then leaned back, whispering,
“Abre, abre tu boca...”
Blindly, America twisted his head toward the sound and tentatively opened his
mouth, not resisting as Spain pushed the head of his aching cock in. He closed
his lips around the heated flesh, tasting the salty flavor of the other, and
then he started sucking, or at least as best as he could while France was
pounding into him. Spain grasped at America’s hair, almost shouting at the hot
wetness surrounding his length, reveling in that sinful sensation with not a
single regret in the world.
It was almost too much for America to take, and as soon as Prussia reached out
to touch the tip of his erection, to brush at the wetness collecting there, he
came with a full-throated moan, somewhat muffled by Spain still fucking his
mouth. Utterly drained, America collapsed back onto the bed, though he
attempted to move his hips to France’s increasingly erratic thrusts, until
France finally reached climax as well, and a fresh wave of liquid heat
seemingly filled America, who could not believe he could feel this hot without
burning up everything around him.
Almost reluctantly, Spain slipped his still-hard erection from between
America’s swollen lips, while Prussia smirked and not too gently disengaged a
beaming France. He then leaned forward to kiss America’s mouth in unspoken
thanks.
 
“You got your chance, you greedy pervert, it’s our turn,” Prussia grumbled into
France’s ear, who only chuckled and kissed him drunkenly. He heaved the other
nation into Spain’s waiting embrace and looked down at the ravished young
nation, briefly admiring their handiwork.
“Eh, don’t get too comfortable, kid, you’ve still got work to do.”
The harshly accented voice cut through his haze of pleasure, and America was
forced to open his eyes and answer. “You’re always making me work, Prussia,” he
complained.
“S’good for you, teaches you character and all that shit,” Prussia retorted,
pulling on the boy’s arms until he was sitting up, kneeling face to face with
the trio. Spain ceased his attempt to cover France with kisses and with a
welcoming smile, opened his arms to America, nudging Prussia out of the way a
bit more forcefully than expected.
“Oh, don’t listen to him, it’ll be fine,” Spain laughed. And as there was no
reason why America should not believe him, he crept forward into those strong
lean arms and was gently eased onto Spain’s lap. He let himself be kissed by
one, two, three mouths, permitted their fingers to stroke his sweat-damp skin,
and allowed hands at his waist to lift him up partway. Their whispered
directions rolled through his muzzy brain, and he tried to follow them, feeling
Spain’s slick cock pressed up against him insistently, suppressing a shudder
that would have revealed the nagging doubt that this might have been a bad
idea…
Though after France, Spain did not feel so bad, at least not from this angle,
and America was wet and stretched enough to take all of the other nation in one
motion. Spain cursed vehemently at the heat enveloping his length, panting with
eagerness, but he reigned in his enthusiasm just long enough to ask America if
he was all right. America nodded, a clear display of bravado that did not
escape their notice, and to confirm this, he began moving cautiously, clinging
onto Spain’s shoulders for support as the older nation leaned back on one hand.
“Do you, ah, need any assistance there, mon ami?” France murmured, looking
pointedly at Prussia’s now unclothed groin with a characteristic leer.
Prussia narrowed his eyes, forcing himself to look away from Spain and America
to France. “Shut up, I don’t need your help, fucking dirty French – I MEAN IT
STAY AWAY.”
In an effort to escape France’s attentions - dammit, did the man ever get tired
of having sex, wait, this was France, of course not – Prussia decided to skip
ahead and take care of the most urgent needs of his vital region. He pushed
America’s writhing body forward, exposing his ass, glistening with the evidence
of both France and Spain, and with a finger, he followed the curve of Spain’s
cock up to where it entered America’s body, then pressing in as well. America
let out a ragged sob at the touch, the nation trapped underneath echoing him in
surprise, but that pressure was nothing compared to the sensation of the second
finger sliding in, then Prussia’s cock shoving into him with hardly more than a
curt warning.
Spain cursed again, growling, “Hijo de puta - t-too soon!”
“Your fault for taking so long, lazy ass!” Fuck, but the boy had tightened
around them both now, and he had to catch his breath at the spark of delicious
pain running throughout his lower body.
“Que?! I’ll make you regret saying that!” Spain snarled angrily, his fingers
digging into America’s hips hard enough to bruise.
Prussia laughed at Spain’s indignation, not even bothering to reply as he
wrapped his arms about America’s torso, flicking sharp nails against the overly
sensitive nipples and causing the boy to squeak ever so delightfully, as he
winced and blinked the tears out of his eyes.
France, never one to not butt in, so to speak, whenever there was a quarrel
going on between major European powers, tried to say something withering to
both sides, but started coughing instead.
America, whom must not be blamed for being unused to their good-natured
bickering, struggled to get their attention and ended up shouting, “Jesus
Christ, will someone just move?!” (Something he would remember at inopportune
times during church services for the next 100 years.)
Prussia and Spain stilled completely, and France took the opportunity to reach
for America’s growing arousal, flashing Prussia an impudent grin over his
shoulder.
Then they moved. All three of them, at the same time.
America made it quite clear how he felt about this.
After the ringing in their ears stopped, France cleared his throat and said,
“W-well… I’m pretty sure England heard that.”
“I think the entire Western hemisphere did…” Spain murmured in awe.
“What?” Prussia asked blankly, having been the closest to America’s voice at
the time.
 
It was some time afterwards, after the scorching heat of their release
dissipated into the atmosphere, after the sweat cooled on their soiled skin,
after their shuddering gasps for oxygen settled into even, contented breaths,
that America trusted himself enough to speak. But there was nothing left to
say. He gave them what they wanted, and they seemed more or less satisfied,
curling blissfully into each other’s arms on top of the much-abused bed, no
longer wanting to argue or even stay awake.
His head was resting against France’s chest, and pressing his ear to the
sternum, America could hear the gurgling noise in his lungs each time France
took a painful breath. Spain had clasped his arms tightly around France’s
waist, as if he never wanted to let go, and America lightly traced the newly
healed scars on the tanned knuckles and wrists, biting his lower lip in
sympathy. He did not need to turn to see Prussia, to see the exhaustion marking
that pale face, the strain he would never admit to while he was awake.
Even though he knew they were just using him for their own purposes, they still
lost much to help him fight against England – money, land, men, stability. He
silently promised to himself that he would pay them back some day, twice over.
America would be their hero and save them from disaster, and they would not
regret helping him in his revolution… But for now… For now… he could not do
that.
 
Spain hit the floor hard, cushioning France’s fall and Prussia tumbling after
him. Jolted out of their stupor by this rude awakening, the three flailed about
in confusion before remembering where they were and what they had been doing.
America’s cheerful face poked out from over the edge of the bed, and they
looked at the pistol in his hand with some trepidation.
“Thanks to your uh, ‘instruction,’ I think I’ve found a solution to my
problems. By which I mean, our problems…” He cocked the pistol with an ominous
sound, and the nations on the floor scrambled backward even though there was no
way they could possibly dodge a bullet, especially while naked and half-asleep.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get the loans paid back, but until then, I don’t want to be
interrupted by any one of you and your wars. I mean, I’m independent now, and I
need some time to build up my own strength. That makes sense, doesn’t it?” The
tone in his voice did not brook any argument, unless they wanted a rather
painful ending to their case.
Spain and France and even Prussia nodded in complete agreement, the kind of
agreement that comes from sheer terror rather than logic.
It just occurred to the three that they may have made a mistake of epic
proportions. But, and this was undeniable, at least they enjoyed every minute
of making it.
End Notes
     The first 2 parts take place in 1776, but France and Spain did not
     officially join the war until 1778 and 1779. Prussia's von Steuben
     joined in 1778. The last part takes place in 1783, after the Treaty
     of Paris. The ending reflects President George Washington’s hope that
     the United States stay neutral and keep out of European wars, which
     America pretty much did until World War I.
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