#argmex

Argmex married

3 horas después

ArgMex under the cut:

Mexico was fully prepared to spend the rest of the night mourning his world cup run when his phone vibrated. 

He picked up the phone and glanced at it. The text was from Argentina, and it read, “I’m downstairs. Meet me?” 

Mexico knew that he could have said no and could spend the rest of the night dwelling on how unhappy he was about not advancing. But he did not want to say no to a night with a friend and a lover, especially when the alternative was his own misery. He texted back, “Be down in a minute.” 

He had been laying on the bed since he got back from the match, and he knew that he should change before meeting with Argentina. He threw on new clothing, pausing to carefully fold his jersey. Though it had been a disappointing cup, he wasn’t going to disrespect his kit. 

Once he was ready, it was not a great challenge to find Argentina. His height made him exceptionally easy to find in a crowd. 

He already had two glasses of Champagne in front of him, and he pushed one towards Mexico when he sat down. Mexico looked at it for a moment before asking, “Are we toasting to you advancing?” 

He didn’t say that they could also be drinking to his failure. It was not an uplifting thought, and was surely not what Argentina was thinking of. Argentina seemed to catch his meaning and said, “We are toasting to both of us winning our games, even if it wasn’t enough to pull you through.” 

Mexico picked up the glass, since it was a good enough reason and said, “I will drink to that.” He drained half the glass before putting it down and saying, “Why only one glass? Why not order a whole bottle if we are drinking to you going forward?” 

Argentina put down his glass and ran his finger along the edge of it. He was quiet for a moment before finally saying, “Do you remember what you texted me before the games?” 

Mexico shrugged. He remembered that he had wished him luck, but he was not sure what else. The stress of the game had erased everything in the hours before it. He had a feeling that Argentina would tell him if he made it clear that he didn’t remember. 

As he expected, Argentina pulled out his phone and read from the screen, “If you smash Feliks today, I promise that I’ll suck your dick.” 

Mexico raised a skeptical eyebrow at him and said, “You know that I meant if you smashed him hard enough to swing the goal differential in my favor. Since I’m out and you’re in, that means it wasn’t enough.” 

Argentina looked at him pleadingly and said, “But I did dominate the game, and I played the hardest that I could. Will you still hold up your end?” 

Mexico could swear that he was pushing out his lower lip slightly like a child pouting. He loathed how cute he found it. He understood the single glass of champagne; he wasn’t supposed to drink too much before they went to bed so he could decide with a clear head.

Contemplating the promise, he struggled to come up with a reason that he should not make good on it. It had been a glib comment, but Argentina had clearly taken it very seriously. Mexico didn’t see a reason that he should not follow through, other than a certain reluctance at what the task would entail. And if there was anyone he was willing to do it with, it was Argentina.

He looked at Argentina and said, “Well, a promise is a promise.” He paused to drain the rest of his drink before adding, “I do hope you will not be disappointed. I do not do this much.” 

Argentina smiled at him and coyly tucked a piece of hair behind his ear. He answered, “I know.”  He stroked Mexico’s cheek softly as he continued to speak, “But don’t worry. I will guide you through it. I know what I like.” 

Mexico felt himself start to blush at how Argentina was looking at him. It was an endearing mixture of concern and unconcealed lust. He replied to Argentina, “As long as you are gentle, I will keep that promise.” 

The Argentine smiled broadly at his little victory and drained his glass in one long drink. Mexico felt his heart beat a little faster at how excited Argentina looked. It was worth keeping his promise to see that look on Argentina’s face.

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As soon as the door closed, Argentina turned to Mexico and kissed him deeply, putting his arms around his waist. Mexico melted against him. He loved the way that those strong arms could so easily fit around his waist, and he loved how secure he felt being held so tightly. 

Mexico kissed him back, hoping Argentina could feel his sincere affection. Argentina cupped his face lovingly, but there was a playful smirk on his face as he said, “Now let’s put that talented mouth of yours to work.” 

Mexico blushed at the compliment. He felt a gentle touch on his shoulders tell him that it was time. He took the hint and sank to his knees and said, glancing up at Argentina, “I hope you still think it’s talented when I’m done.” 

It was important that he not show his nerves on his face, but he was not certain that he’d be able to handle what was coming. He knew what Argentina felt like inside of him. The thought of the size, which fit so snugly inside of him, made a nervous knot rise in his throat. 

The feeling intensified as Argentina pulled down his zipper and showed him exactly what he had to deal with. Mexico put both of his hands on Argentina’s dick and gave it a couple strokes to tease him.

Argentina was already half hard, and the ministrations were enough to get him fully erect. It made the prospect of fitting the whole length down his throat even more daunting. Argentina’s hand stroked his jaw softly, gently reminding him that he had promised more than hands. 

Mexico swallowed nervously and opened his mouth and started to slide the length into his mouth. He tried to go slowly since he was certain that he would struggle if he tried to rush it.

He had no idea what to do with his hands and started to fidget slightly as he moved his mouth. Argentina gently took his hands in his own placed them on his own hips. It felt far more comfortable than leaving his hands free. 

As he got halfway, he realizes he was quickly running out of room in his mouth. Argentina’s member pressed against the back of his soft palate, and he started to gag. 

He stopped pushing to stop himself from gagging.

He felt Argentina’s hand on the back of his head, stroking his hair encouragingly. Argentina said, “You are doing so well.” He ran his fingers through Mexico’s hair as he continued, “Breathe through your nose. It will help.” 

Mexico tried to focus on his breathing as Argentina applied to slightest pressure to the back of his head. Mexico felt himself start to gag again as the man’s length went deeper and touched the back of his throat. 

He stopped the progress again. 

Argentina chuckled and touched his face with the hand that wasn’t on the back of his head and said, “Aw, is that a bit too big for you, dear?” 

Mexico shot a glare up at him to remind him that he did not enjoy being mocked when he had given ample warning that he might struggle. 

And that he had teeth that could be used if mocking continued.

Argentina added, “You have no idea how adorable you look like that. You’re doing so well. Relax and you’ll get it all in; I know you can do it.” 

The soft touch on his face was enough to assure him that the mocking was all in jest. Mexico took a moment to let the feeling that he was going to gag fade. Only once it was gone did he push past his gag reflex.

 As soon as he started to move again, he felt Argentina pushing on the back of his head. It was gentle, but it reminded him that Argentina was eager. Mexico could still feel his instincts fighting the intrusion, but he managed to push past it.

He stopped when he was able to fit the whole of the man’s cock into throat. He felt like the tip was sitting right against his Adam’s apple. The feeling that he might gag again continued to linger, but Mexico felt like he could ignore it.

Argentina moaned, “Your mouth feels so incredible. I knew it would.” 

His hand tightened on Mexico’s hair. Mexico dug his fingernails into the other’s hips for a moment to remind him that he did not like having his hair pulled. Argentina understood and relaxed his hand. But he did say, apparently as prompting, “You can’t stay there forever.” 

Mexico knew it, but he wanted to enjoy another moment of fitting it all before he started to move again. He may not have had recent practice, but he had once known how to give a good blowjob. A particular ex had been particularly fond of his mouth. 

He let out a small moan to try to explain that he liked where he was. Argentina made a satisfied moan as he felt Mexico’s vocal cords vibrate. His voice sounded beautiful. 

Mexico slowly started to push himself back, and there was something new and unexpected about the feeling of the dick leaving his throat. He heard Argentina let out a low satisfied breath at the movement. 

He let himself pull back just past halfway before pushing back in. He could feel that Argentina was holding himself remarkably still so that Mexico could set a comfortable pace. He could appreciate that Argentina was trying to think about his lack of experience. A more demanding partner would have made him go faster.

He gagged slightly as the whole length pressed into his throat again, but he managed it. His eyes were starting to water, but he shut them to ignore it and focus on his task. Once he bottomed out, he heard Argentina say breathlessly, “You are doing wonderfully.” 

The compliment made Mexico feel confident enough to start to move his head a little faster. As he bobbed his head along the length of the man’s dick, he let could hear approving sounds coming from above him. 

He could feel himself getting aroused at how the Argentine’s melodic voice sounded. He loved the idea that he was making the man feel such exceptional pleasure. 

Mexico felt Argentina’s hips begin to move under his hands, pushing each thrust further. It was gentle at first, but as Mexico slowly increased his pace, he could feel the other man losing patience. 

Argentina said, between little moans, “My turn. Relax your jaw.” 

Mexico didn’t need to wonder what he meant by that for more than a second. Argentina began to move his hips while keeping his hand firmly on the back of Mexico’s head to keep him from pulling away. But he was mindful to not grab and pull his hair.

His pace was much faster than Mexico’s, and it was pushing even further down his throat. Mexico felt like he was pushing even deeper with each thrust. The feeling of Argentina taking control and forcing the pace was intoxicating. 

He let out a whine at how good it felt to let Argentina go as fast as he wanted, even though the pace was making his eyes water. He had a feeling that if he had allowed it, Argentina would have grabbed his hair and gone even harder. 

But as it was, he only needed to let himself be guided through the blistering pace. 

As the pace built to a peak, battering the back of Mexico’s throat in the process, Argentina said, “You feel so fucking good.” 

With that, he thrust the deepest he had so far, causing Mexico to gag again. Mexico understood what was happening a second too late. 

He suddenly felt liquid in the back of his throat. Though he hadn’t been planning to, he started to swallow so that he would not choke. 

Argentina seemed to suddenly remember that Mexico did not like being forced to swallow, and he pulled out. Mexico felt liquid splattering across his face. He could only imagine how he looked to Argentina, on his knees with the proof of what he had just done across his face.

 Argentina immediately said, realizing what had just happened, “Oh shit, I am so sorry. I’ll get you a towel.” 

Mexico ran the back of his hand over his face to clean up before opening his eyes. He slowly rose to his feet, still painfully aware of how hard he was. The whole process had excited him, and his body was practically begging for his own release.

 Argentina had rushed into the bathroom and returned with a towel in hand. He gently took Mexico around the waist with one arm while gently wiping his face with the towel with the other. 

Mexico said, his voice coming out surprisingly hoarse, “Well, was that good enough?” Argentina was glowing as he said, “It was wonderful. I knew you would never disappoint me.” 

Mexico knew he was smiling; he was glad that Argentina was satisfied. He said, clearing his throat to try to get rid of the hoarseness, “I am going to take a shower. You made a mess.” 

He knew he was not imagining that Argentina looked proud of himself. Argentina said, trailing one finger down Mexico’s throat, “Your voice might not come back for a while. I got pretty deep.” 

Mexico tried to clear his throat again, and then gave up on the effort and said, “I still need a shower.” Argentina didn’t immediately let go of his waist. 

He kissed Mexico on the forehead before saying, “I’ll come with you. You still have a problem for me to deal with.” 

He pressed his hand against Mexico’s bulge to make his point. Mexico’s knees nearly buckled at how good the contact was. But he managed to keep his composure enough to smirk and say, “You better get me off. That’s only fair.” 

Mexico was scarcely through the door before Argentina picked him up like he weighed nothing and threw him down on the bed. He wasn’t sure if the door had even been closed, but he didn’t care particularly. The whole country could hear him moaning for all he cared. 

Argentina immediately descended upon him and kissed him deeply. Mexico moaned happily against his lips. He felt the man’s rough hands roaming over his hips. Argentina hooked one thumb into Mexico’s waistband and pulled his pants off in a single smooth motion. 

Mexico pressed his face into the kiss and reached up to put his hand in Argentina’s damp curls. Argentina’s voice sounded hoarse as he said in Mexico’s ear, “I’ve been looking forward to this all month.” 

The strain in his voice spoke to how hard the game had been. Mexico chuckled and asked, “Winning or fucking me?” There was a sparkle in the man’s beautiful brown eyes as he said, “Both. Getting my trophy and you.” 

He pressed his lips to Mexico’s neck and sucked on the skin. Mexico could feel the teeth methodically working a mark into his skin because Argentina loved to mark him up. Mexico said, between little moans, “I always knew that you would win. I could feel that it was your year.”

Argentina released his neck and said with a laugh, “You liar. I am sure you told Isabel the same thing.” Mexico smirked and countered, “You’re just jealous.” 

A strong hand grabbed his butt to affirm his claim. He said, before laying another kiss on Mexico’s neck, “I’m not jealous. I won, didn’t I? You’re wearing my shirt, aren’t you? Isabel can get as angry as she wants about that.” 

He slipped his hand under the oversized jersey that he was wearing. His skilled fingers found a nipple and caressed it teasingly, making Mexico writhe. He knew that Argentina was enjoying watching. 

He nodded. 

Yes, he was wearing the shirt from their game against each other. And he had a feeling that it was not going to come off because Argentina loved the look of him in the sky blue. 

Argentina kissed him again, pulling on his lower lip with his teeth. Mexico blindly grasped around with his hands trying to pull off his shorts. Argentina chuckled, “Aw, you’re so eager.” Mexico growled back, “You’ve been teasing me for days! Don’t you act coy now!”

Argentina chuckled again and reached over Mexico’s head towards the bedside table. Mexico craned his neck to see what he was reaching for. The expanse of exposed neck gave Argentina a chance to work on another hickey while he deftly grabbed a bottle of lubricant from wherever he had been keeping it. 

He said, “I am going to give you what you want then.” 

He leaned back only long enough to apply a generous amount of lubricant to his fingers. Mexico felt his heart pounding at the way Argentina bit his lower lip and looked at him like he was an incredibly tasty meal.

It only took a moment before the man was pressing his fingers into him. Mexico arched his back and groaned at how good it felt after the building anticipation of the final half hour of the game. Argentina’s fingers moved slowly and carefully. He’d have enough practice to know exactly what he needed to do. 

Mexico loved the way that it felt when those well-practiced fingers hit the right spots. He groaned gladly, and said, “Go even deeper.” Argentina ran his tongue over his ear before saying, “Patience, kitten. I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” 

He squeezed Mexico’s hip bone with his free hand as he worked diligently. He said, in a tone dripping in mockery, “You know how big I am. You wouldn’t want to be hurt, would you?” 

Mexico rolled his eyes and replied, “I can take it you arrogant-“ His next word died in his throat as Argentina stroked a spot that sent pleasure up his spine.

Once he regained his voice he said, “I can take you.” The smirk that appeared on Argentina’s face sent another thrill through him, as did the intentionally cool, “As you wish.” 

Then Argentina looped both of his arms under Mexico’s legs and pushed them up. Mexico felt the other press into him much more slowly than he had done after their match. It felt like he was being careful, and for once Mexico was glad for his hesitation. 

The slow stretch made him certain that he would not bleed, and it would not hurt. Argentina pressed in very slowly, with a look of careful concentration. Once he was all the way in, he purred, “How does that feel?” 

Mexico answered obediently, “So good. So full.” 

He couldn’t think of a better word for exactly how stuffed he felt with the other buried deep in him. It was a comfortable, pleasurable fullness. 

Argentina kissed him and said, “You took it perfectly. And you look so beautiful.”

Then he started his first thrust by slowly pulling out and pushed back in. Mexico felt the moan rumble out of his throat at how good it felt. Argentina joined their lips again, swallowing Mexico’s moan as his thrust hit the right spot. 

The languid pace did not last. Argentina immediately sped up, pushing deeper with each thrust. Mexico let himself moan freely and loudly with each thrust. Argentina kissed down his neck and over his collarbones. 

As he leaned closer to kiss him, he pushed Mexico’s knees up towards his shoulders, making ample use of the man’s flexibility. The tilt of his hips was making it even easier for Argentina to drive deep. 

Mexico was lightheaded and seeing stars from how fast the pace was. All he could do was wrap his arms around Argentina’s shoulders and cling to him. He moaned his approval until his throat started to feel raw. He had been yelling at the match too. 

Argentina said, breathlessly, “You feel so good. So worth it.” 

Mexico wanted to respond, to say how incredible it felt for him, but he could not manage the words. He used one hand in Argentina’s hair to pull him into a deeper kiss to show his appreciation. 

The bed creaked under him in time with the man’s pace. It gave them a kind of accompaniment to the rhythmic moans.

The pace continued faster and faster until it reached a climax. Argentina finished with a satisfied groan and leaned forward against Mexico. He didn’t pull out quite yet and seemed content to stay right where he was. 

Mexico noticed a look of fatigue passing over the man’s face, and he asked, “Are you alright.” 

Argentina nodded happily and turned his head to kiss Mexico on the cheek before answering, “I underestimated how much Francis exhausted me. That was a long game.” 

Mexico understood; it had been a stressful overtime. He stroked Argentina’s hair and said, “If you let me get up, I’ll go run you a bath and pop some champagne.”

Argentina leaned back happily in the steaming hot bath and tipped a bottle of champagne to his lips. Mexico was pulling off his shirt, and said jokingly, “Are you going to leave any for me?” 

Argentina pointedly took a swig before saying, “Did you just win the cup?”

 Mexico raised an eyebrow at him. Argentina chuckled in a way that told him that the alcohol was already affecting him, and said, “You can have some when you come sit on my lap.” 

Mexico took off his shirt and folded it up carefully. Argentina’s shirt from the year that he won his third cup was a treasure. Only once he had laid it carefully aside did he join Argentina in the bathtub. 

The hot water did feel amazing on his newly sore muscles. He sat directly on the Argentine’s lap and then reached out for the bottle, which the other gladly handed over. He took a long drink before handing it back and asking, “Is this night everything that you hoped it would be?” 

He was determined that if the answer was no, he would do everything in his power to make the night even better. But Argentina nodded contentedly, “I do feel like a champion.” He reached up and stroked Mexico’s face affectionately, “And you’re such a beautiful extra prize.” 

Mexico took it as a cue and kissed him again, tasting the wine on the man’s lips. He replied, “I have been cheering for you, even when you’re a jerk.” The man looked almost sheepish as he said, stroking Mexico’s face where a black eye had been weeks before, “I did say that I was sorry about the eye.” 

Mexico stroked his face softly and smiled at him, “I know you did. If there were hard feelings, I wouldn’t be here fucking you.” 

Argentina took another long drink of the champagne and then said, with a twinkle in his eye, “On that topic, don’t think I am done with you yet.” Mexico reached into the water and said, “I can feel that.” 

He pulled himself even more firmly into Argentina’s lap and rose up on his knees. He could tell that Argentina was in no mood for something vigorous. He said, “You have worked so hard to get here. You sit there and I’ll ride you.”  Argentina tucked a long piece of hair behind Mexico’s ear and said, “That sounds wonderful, kitten. You know just how to spoil me.”

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Argentina looked happily exhausted where he was laying in bed, and if he could have been cuddled up with the trophy, he certainly would have. Mexico’s skin was still slightly wet, and he was busy drying himself off. Argentina said blearily, “Mi amor, come to bed.” 

He patted the spot next to him as if it wasn’t clear where he meant. Mexico did as he was said and laid down next to Argentina. The man immediately wrapped his arms around him and pulled him to his chest. Mexico said with a forced chuckle, “Amor? Are you mistaking me for someone taller and more Chilean?”

He felt like that was a title reserved for someone else entirely, and he felt odd hearing it. Argentina shook his head and replied, “I’m not. I love you and it’s about time I said it. That Dutch bastard said I treat you like a booty call, and I want you to know that isn’t true.” 

Mexico could not believe what he was hearing, since their arrangement had been casual sex. He was equally shocked that the Netherlands’ harsh words had been shaking Argentina’s conscience. 

He said, trying to deflect, “You are drunk. You won’t remember that you said that in the morning.”