USUK Fanfic Rec List

Blinded🌙

By: lenisek

Fic: Blinded
Title: Blinded
Genre: Drama, Angst, Fluff
Pairing(s): UK/US
Rating: Light R
Warnings: Sex
Summary: America is temporarily blinded and deafened. Not knowing who's talking to you is a strange sort of freedom. Based off a Kink Meme prompt.

His breath rattles in his chest. He can feel it there, can smell the chemicals and feel the burning in his lungs as they shudder. But he can't hear the coughs, can't see the asphalt under his hands as loose pebbles dig into his back.

America had been walking back from a meeting with Iraq and a few other nations, who were still furious with him. He'd stormed out. No one was listening to him, no one saw that he was trying his damndest and no one gave a flying fuck about anything other than his failures. He'd gone down a sidestreet, heading for a hotel, when he had seen something out of the corner of his eye. He'd turned toward it, but then—

He was laying on his back, blind and deaf. He clutched at the gun at his waist, pulled it out. Whoever had attacked him, they could still be there. There could be more than one of them. He remembered that there had been a wall to his left, he felt for it and he climbed to his feet, his fingertips just brushing the rough brick.

A hand grabbed his right wrist. He yelled, pulling his arm away easily. His gun pointed in the direction he thought it had come from, his left hand leaving the wall to steady his grip.

He stood there for several minutes, but there was nothing. No response. For all he knew that had been someone trying to help him. Maybe he'd scared them off. But they could very easily be waiting for him to lower his guard.

America was helpless. He felt himself begin to shake with rage. His hands tightened on the (useless) gun.

Suddenly, it went flying out of his hands, and his legs were kicked out from under him. He fell back heavily, smacking his head on the asphalt. His right arm was pinned to his chest by a leg, and his left was held over his head by a grip that felt like a vice.

He could feel breath, warm and quick on his face, coming in puffs. Someone was yelling at him.

Distantly, he felt the familiar humming just underneath his skin. Whoever this was, it was a nation. Ally or enemy, he couldn't tell. He had trouble enough with that when he could see.

Whoever it was was still yelling, and America was sick of being pinned.

"I can't see or hear," he said at what he thought was a reasonable volume. "So either finish me off or let me up."

Nations couldn't be killed unless something catastrophic happened to their people. So as much as America believed (hoped) that he'd feel the cool metal of his gun pressed against his skull, he knew that it wouldn't last long.

The body on top of his stiffened. America felt them shift off, but didn't move, instead lying out on the sidewalk.

He was honestly surprised when he felt a tugging on his arm. He sat up, and there were now two hands on him, one bracing his upper arm, the other on his back, supporting him. He stood, mildly surprised.

The hands vanished, and America froze. When a few moments had passed, he laughed bitterly. The United States of America, blind, deaf, and helpless in an alleyway. Whoever it was was probably standing back and taking pictures. Maybe they'd gone back to get the others to gawk.

Suddenly, the hands were back, moving his right arm out of the way. He felt his gun slide back into his holster. He tried reaching for it, to be sure it was there, but one of the hands grabbed at his wrist and pulled it away.

Whoever it was was standing close. He or she was talking again, the breath hitting America on his neck. Probably shorter than him, but that only eliminated Russia. And Russia could be crouching, so there went that logic.