Japan- Like Fire In My Blood

"J-Japan? What are you doing?"

Goosebumbs raised itself along your legs and arms as Honda Kiku buried his face in the crook of your neck and shoulder where the collar of your kimono didn't quite meet with the smooth column of your throat, arms looped tightly around your waist as you knelt together on the tatami. Kiku was acting just plain weird today. Not that you objected to the proximity, but it was unexpected from your quiet friend considering he thought occasionally brushing your fingertips together on accident was utterly indecent. You would have pried him off to see what was the matter, but your arms had gotten caught in the grip around your middle.

"Kiku... Are you alright? Did something scare you?"

You tried to remain calm, using your best motherly voice to try and coax him into being calm himself. The trick didn't work for once, instead causing the Asian country to tighten his grip and mumble into your throat. And there went the goosebumbs again. Dammit.

If mothering him wasn't working, then you had no idea what to do. He wasn't talking to you, he wasn't moving, and Yao wasn't around to be called on as savior and translator. What the hell was wrong with him? Yao was alright, the America issue had ended well enough, Germany had been around just enough to keep things interesting, so what? Why would he need to come cling to you like he wanted to never be found again? You mulled over it for a few moments, almost forgetting your position until Kiku shifted and slightly moist warmth was pressed to the throb of your pulse in your throat, trailing up to where your blood coursed more strongly under the curve of your jaw and sending jolts of sensation that made heat pool in your cheeks and the pit of your stomach.

Did... did he just kiss your neck?

"K-K-K-Kiku!"

If he kept it up, that stutter would become permanent. Which would suck, because you knew America would never let you hear the end of it.

"...rike fire in my brood..."

"...What?"

It wasn't the most intelligent answer, but it was all you had in response to Kiku's barely audible mumble against the racing pulse beneath your jaw. He tightened his grip on you for a moment before releasing you almost completely and pulling back enough to look you in the eyes. What you found in his made the heat in your stomach clench and reach out to wake up areas to the south of it. The look in his eyes was nothing short of lust-filled, focused on you with an attention that made it hard to breathe all of a sudden. He bit his lower lip, chewing it slightly as he reached up to skim a thumb over your own.

"...It's rike rooking at you rights a fire in my brood... I can't think straight. Arr I can think about is you... It's not right, but I can't herp it."

Oh dear sweet gods where was your best friend and who was this impostor stirring you up? He skimmed his hand across your cheek, dipping down to wrap it around the back of your neck and pull you closer. The arm still around your waist pulled you tighter to him as well, leaving you close enough to feel his warm breath across your lips but only barely far enough away that you weren't actually kissing. Your breath hitched in your throat as he caressed the back of your neck, making the slightest motion to lean in and complete the circuit, so to speak.

"Hey, Japan. Whatcha up to?"

You had never moved faster in your life than you did when the annoying voice of Alfred Jones cut into the heated scene. You practically sprang away from Kiku, one arm instinctively coming up to cover the brilliant blush on your cheeks with the sleeve of your kimono. Japan threw himself into a position mirroring yours, going from a breath away to at least six feet and sprawling in a position of startled disarray.

"A-America! W-what are you doing here!?"

Oh good. You weren't the only one stuttering. You hurriedly composed your posture, sitting like a lady again but keeping your sleeve up to hide the blood still lingering in your face like a mark of shame. Kiku's face was beet red as well, blushing so hard you swore his cheeks would bruise. America had the gall to look amused, scratching his cheek with one finger.

"Well, I went looking for Japan to sign some paperwork, but it would seem someone else got to him first."

You sucked air in, puffing up your cheeks and holding them that way so you wouldn't chew the bastard American out. Kiku was apparently much less angry than embarrassed, as he just blushed harder and mumbled an apology before running away into the courtyard.

What. The. Hell.