[FIC] Make It Work
Title: Make It Work
Author/Artist: vulchu
Prompt: Poland has finally managed to get Prussia to watch Project
Runway with him. Yes, THAT Project Runway, with Tim Gunn. Anyway,
Prussia gets into it eventually. A little too into it because after
his fourth Heineken he starts mocking the contestants and claims --
rather stupidly -- that he could make clothes twice as awesome as the
ones on the show, in half the time. Well, Poland takes him up on it,
and Prussia, sober the next day, figures out that it's not as easy as
he thought it was last night. Especially if Poland is his model,
standing on a stool with cloth scantily draped and pinned over his
body. I took a few liberties with this request, I hope the requester doesn't mind!
Pairings: Poland/Prussia
Rating: NC-17
Summary: In fashion, one day you're in; the next you're out.
Word Count: 3193
Somehow, this was all America's fault. America's fault and that stupid hilarious TV show of his. It had started with Poland going on and on about the stupid thing, and when Prussia had told him to shut his stupid trap about a dumb ass reality show that no one watched because it was all about crap that anyone could pull off anyway Poland scoffed and had said "Shyeah, no way. I bet you would like totally get auf'd in the first challenge." And that was how Prussia found himself staring at a mass of fabric sitting on Germany's floor, a sea of pins sitting on his coffee table, and a giant misshapen lump of satin and stripes and something currently occupying the better part of Poland's rear end.
"Like, you had totally better not make my butt look big," Poland chided, standing atop the coffee table which had been usurped to serve as both working table and model stand for their endeavors. "But make it look totally hot," he added as an afterthought. "My ass is like totally my best feature."
Definitely America's fault.
"Your ass is huge, Polen," Prussia grumbled around a mouthful of pins, stabbing fruitlessly at the lump of misshapen fabric. It was supposed to be a skirt. It was supposed to be the most awesome skirt in existence but somehow the awesome skirt in Prussia's mind didn't quite translate into an awesome skirt on Poland's ass.
"Omigod you did not just say that!" Poland scowled, turning to glare down at him. "And like, what are you even doing anyway? Aren't you like supposed to make me look fabulous?"
"Shut up! I'm still figuring out this stupid shit!" Prussia growled, tugging at the fabric which rewarded him with a resounding rip. He glared. "How the hell does this crap even work?"
"That's like, the whole point of it, duh." The way that Poland kept on moving as he talked wasn't helping the tear anyway. "You've got to like make it work and all!"
"Screw you, Polen," Prussia grumbled and just tugged more at the ripping fabric. Ripped edges were edgy and edgy was seriously awesome, right?
"If I were wearing the right skirt you would totally want to," the other country singsonged with a smug grin.
Prussia snorted, tossing the discarded scrap of fabric aside. "There's no skirt in the world that would make me want to do you!"
"No way!" Poland said smoothing his hands over his hips and down across the lumps of fabric covering his butt. "I've totally got like this sexy little back number that like totally hugs my hips and it makes my legs look super amazing."
"Yeah? And what does it do for your dick?"
"Dude, is that like all you can think about?" Poland asked, tossing his hair. "Geeze, did you like turn fag in the last century or something?"
"You're the one talking about wearing skirts!" Prussia protested, poking at Poland's ass.
"Because I look sooo good in them, duh!" Poland replied, wagging his hips as he shifted his weight easily from one leg to the other.
"Chicks do it better," Prussia snorted in reply, shoving another pin or three into the mess of fabric.
"No way," Poland scoffed, giving Prussia a disgusted glare, "I'm totally hotter than your stupid chicks."
"I meant girls, Polen!" Prussia said with a roll of his eyes.
Poland smirked. "Shyeah, like better than them too!"
"Prove it," Prussia retorted, sticking his tongue out at the other country.
"Well first you've got to like, get this tranny mess off of me, duh," Poland scowled, sticking his tongue out in reply.
"It's not a mess, it's awesome in progress!"
"Um, yeah, like whatever, just get rid of it," Poland said, jutting his chin up with toss of his wrist. "You're like, so auf'd. And I'm totally not gonna kiss you either."
"You don't get to talk like Heidi!" Prussia growled, trying to figure out just how to get the waste dump he'd made off of Poland.
Poland paused, snickered, then stared down at Prussia. "Omigod what, I thought you like didn't watch the show!"
"Dude, Heidi's hot shit!" Prussia said with a wide grin. "She's one of West's! Like I don't keep track of his sex bombs."
"So does that like make you his minister of sex defenses or something?" Poland asked, twirling a strand of hair around his finger.
"Hah! I could wage a sexy war on you any day," Prussia leered up at him.
Poland snickered, giving Prussia a look of utter disbelief. "Oh gross is that like your idea of a pick up line?"
Prussia paused, probably a moment too long. "Maybe."
The snickers had evolved into all out laughter, Poland clutching at his stomach with his free arm. "Omigod, Prusy, when was the last time you even got laid?"
"What the hell, Polen?!" Prussia shouted, really grateful that Poland's eyes were closed so he didn't see the heat that was rising to his cheeks.
"You totally haven't!" Poland howled, slapping at his thigh with one hand, "Like not in the last decade even!"
"Shut up!" Prussia glared up at the other country, snorting. "I'm not like Italien's asshole brother! I can score chicks!"
"Hah! I totally knew it!" Poland had nearly doubled over, shaking his hand to untangle it from his hair so he could wipe the tears from his eyes. "You're like so pathetic that you've only got your little birds."
"Girls, damnit!"
Poland's laughter stopped abruptly as he sucked in a deep breath, pushing himself back upright and smirking down at Prussia with a lingering snicker. "Like, if you were screwing girls like why didn't you just say it?"
"I did just say it!" Prussia protested.
"Uh huh, sure." Poland rolled his eyes, suddenly much more interested in his nails than in anything that Prussia had to say. "So like when are you going to take this disaster area off of my awesome butt? I like, don't want you contaminating Śląsk with your mess or anything."
"Schlesien? What the hell Polen, that shit was Österreich's!"
"Yeah like before he totally ass-grabbed it from me. It's not my fault that everyone wants a piece of my ass," Poland said with a casual shrug, before going back to checking his nails.
"Who gives a damn. I can do what I want with Schlesien, it was mine anyway!" Prussia growled in reply, tugging pins out from the mass of fabric.
"Yeah, like after you stole it from me! I totally had dibs on it first!" Poland pouted, arms crossed over his chest.
"Hey, all's fair in love and war or however that shit goes." Hell, it wasn't like Prussia ever read England's shitty poetry anyway. "I won it, so it's mine!"
"Except for how it's totally mine again," Poland said, smirking down at Prussia. "And you like don't even have the army to take it back."
"Hah! Oh yeah?" Prussia grinned up at him, fingers tightening in the fabric bunched around Poland's hips for a moment before he tugged it away, pins and all, diving forward and grabbing two handfulls of Poland's butt.
"Omigod! You perv! Stop grabbing my ass!" Poland squeaked, prying at Prussia's hands in a pretty damn good effort to pull them off.
"It's my ass now!" Prussia growled, digging his fingers in.
"No way!" Poland scowled, grabbing at Prussia's wrist and tugging. "You like wouldn't even know what to do with it!"
"I bet I can think of a couple of things," Prussia replied, digging his fingers in and kneading at Poland's ass. The asshole's stupid nails hurt like a bitch but hell if Prussia was letting go now.
"Uuhm," Poland squirmed under Prussia's hands, snickering under his breath. "Only like totally no, I am like so much better than you when it comes to asses."
"That's cuz you're such a girl, huh?" Prussia snorted, pushing his thumbs in and sliding them up along the skin inside Poland's crack.
"Okay like seriously just cut it out already, Prusy!" Poland nearly squealed, finally tugging himself away from Prussia's hands and off the table. Not wasting a moment he turned and scowled at the other country, fixing him with an angry glare. "Like, just because I said I'd let you make my ass look fabulous is totally not an excuse to go grabbing it all over the place!"
"Um, Polen . . . " Prussia said, his face suddenly flushed.
"And like, it's not like you could do it anyway. You are like so auf'd and you're like auf'd from Śląsk like for forever!"
"Polen . . . " There was a drip of blood hanging perilously at the edge of Prussia's nostril now.
"Though like you could like do anything about it anyway because you like totally aren't even a country anymore so like it totally sucks to be you."
"Nice erection, Polen," Prussia half-muttered, half-snickered from behind the hand that was wiping the blood from his nose.
Poland stared. More like glared, really, before he lifted one perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Okaaay you can like, stop looking at my dick anytime now." He paused, crossing his arms over his chest with a triumphant smirk. "Unless you like wanna suck it."
"I don't want to suck your dick!" Prussia shouted in protest, quickly wiping his hand off on his pants.
"Omigod, you totally do!" Poland crowed, jutting his hips forward for emphasis. "Like, first you were all over my ass and now it's like my dick so you like totally want to do me!"
"No way!"
"Except like sooo yes way," Poland snickered, uncrossing his arms with a wave of his wrist. "I bet that you're like that total pervert Austria and you like totally were getting off when me and Litwa beat you up, weren't you?"
"Yes! No! I mean-Shut up, Polen!" Prussia scowled, his face flushed bright red.
"Like I totally like don't care or whatever," Poland replied with shrug of his shoulders, stepping around the coffee table over to Prussia, "Cuz like pshaw, pretty much everyone in Europe wants a piece of my ass."
"I already had it once!" Prussia grumbled under his breath.
"Yeah but you seriously didn't know what to do with it or whatever. If you're going to like pretend to take it back at least I'm going to show you how to treat it right." There was a confident tilt to the curve of Poland's lips as he placed his hands on Prussia's shoulders, easily turning him around and shoving him down onto Germany's couch in one smooth gesture. Before Prussia's face even hit the cushions, Poland was straddling the back of his thighs, reaching around to undo the button on Prussia's jeans and tug his pants down by the belt loops all in one gesture.
"Hey! Get the fuck off!" Prussia shouted, pushing himself up with one arm. Fuck, he'd forgotten what a little bastard Poland turned into when he got his mind set on something.
"Noo way!" Poland retorted, shoving at Prussia's back with the heel of one hand as he sat up to tug the other country's pants down. "This is like a lesson, and I'm totally going to school you on how to handle an ass as fabulous as mine."
"I don't need to be schooled by the likes of you," Prussia growled, faceplanted into Germany's leather couch cushions.
"You do when I'm like an expert when it comes to asses," Poland said easily, and Prussia could hear the bitchy little grin in his voice. He was going to wipe that jerk's stupid smirk right off his face once he got out from under his stupid trap.
Poland, however, had another plan in mind as he continued to speak, grabbing two handfuls of Prussia's ass as he did. "So you like, just go for the booty grab and all and that's like omigod so totally gross!" He wiggled his fingers against the fabric of Prussia's boxers, digging his fingers in for emphasis.
Prussia squeaked.
Poland didn't seem to notice, letting go and moving on with his lecture. "What you've got to do is like cup it and everything. I mean a firm ass is totally fabulous, it's like a really good peach or something. You've got to like be gentle with it because you totally don't want it bursting all over the place." He demonstrated, sliding his hand down over the fabric of Prussia's boxers before sliding under the curve of his ass and squeezing lightly.
"Polen, you are not comparing my awesome ass to peaches!" Prussia sputtered, finally finding his voice again.
"Well your ass isn't really like peaches," Poland replied matter-of-factly, letting go of Prussia's butt and sitting up. "Unless they're like super ripe peaches that are like kind of flabby and mushy but that's totally gross. They like, get all over your clothes and shit."
"Not rotten peaches either!" Prussia shouted.
"Seriously can you stop like critiquing my metaphors already? I'm like totally doing you a favor here. Geeze, you are like so ungrateful." Poland scowled, putting his hands on his hips with a quiet little 'humph.' He paused for a moment, before putting one hand to his chin, "Anyway, like . . . where was I?"
“Peaches," Prussia muttered after a second. It wasn't really his fault that the way that Poland had been touching his ass felt really good.
"Okay, yeah, so like peaches!" Poland said with a firm nod of his head, putting both hands firmly back into Prussia's butt. "Like the other really great part of doing that is that you can totally use it as like a infiltration or like a reconnaissance trick or like some of that stuff, because once you've got your hand down here-" he demonstrated, slipping his palms back down to cup the bottom of Prussia's ass. "You can totally just keep on going and like pull one of these." Slipping his hands down further he pushed at the hem of Prussia's boxers, running his hands up along the back of Prussia's thighs, cupping his ass again, skin on skin. "Except it's like so totally easier when you're wearing a skirt, you know? Which is why this is what you're supposed to do with a fabulous ass like mine."
"Yeah, sure," Prussia said, becoming more grateful by the moment that Poland couldn't see his face and the brilliant blush that was spreading across it. "So that's it?"
"Um, no way," Poland snickered-his voice way closer than it was a moment ago. Prussia jerked up slightly, turning to glare at the other country only to find that Poland was nearly face to face with him, leaning forward from his perch on Prussia's thighs. His smirk just got wider as he leaned in closer, pulling his hands apart and parting Prussia's ass. "Once you've got it here you can totally move in for more damage." One hand slipped inward, Poland's thumb reaching out to massage a firm circle around the pucker of Prussia's asshole.
Prussia couldn't stop the groan that it pulled from his throat, jerking his head back to glare intently at the couch cushions. "Okay, I get it!" he spat out, reaching back to smack one-handedly at Poland's arms. "Get off my ass now!"
Poland was all out laughing now, leaning back out of Prussia's range as he tugged his boxers up and to the side with his other hand as he fingered Prussia's asshole, thumb running hard over the hole. "Omigosh, this is totally turning you on. It's like, okay to like it you know. You can totally admit that I'm your meister or whatever."
"You are not the meister of anything," Prussia growled, trying to sit up again but finding himself still thwarted by the pressure of Poland sitting on his legs.
"I totally am the meister of something, I'm the meister of doing your ass," Poland sing-songed to himself, tapping his lips with his fingers before he pushed them in, licking all along them like they were some kind of lollipop. Prussia could tell from the slick smack of his lips against skin, squirming half with protest half with anticipation before the sounds stopped, only a moment before Poland pushed one of the now-slicked fingers up Prussia's ass.
"Damnit-Poland!" Prussia half-shouted half-moaned, which in hindsight probably really didn't help his case. "This isn't supposed to be a lecture in doing me up the ass!"
"Except how that's totally what I'm doing," Poland replied, working the finger in and out of him with steadily increasing speed "C'mon you like totally like it don't you? You totally want more, right?"
"Yes-I mean-fuck, at least do it harder!" It wasn't as though Poland had been wrong, earlier. It had been a while since he'd been laid, and the way that Poland was working his ass felt really good; he couldn't even really help riding his hips back against the other country's finger.
"Well I'll do it but like only if you say please," Poland taunted, circling at Prussia's entrance before pushing his finger in, agonizingly slow.
"Please, all right, please?!" Prussia growled, his back arching against the sensation, hands gripping for purchase at the edge of the couch's cushions.
Poland made a irritable sigh, pulling his fingers back out. "Geeze, like you don't have to yell it," he muttered, quickly pushing two fingers back into Prussia's ass.
"Shut up and just keep going." As much as Prussia didn't want to admit it, this was the best he'd ever got from someone's hand up his ass. Not that he ever let anyone near there, but the way that Poland's fingers scissored and stretched at him, rubbing quick, firm circles against his prostate before pulling out and then shoving back in against the same spot. This was good, this was fucking amazing. He didn't even really care that it was Poland anymore because it was good, it was spiking up his back and straight to his groin and damnit he was getting so close and-
"So this is totally like fashion you know," Poland said abruptly, snickering to himself as his fingers fucked Prussia's asshole.
"Yeah," Prussia muttered between a low groan and a deep, panting breath, "How the hell is that so?"
"It's totally like one minute I'm in," he continued, shoving his hand in deep, fingers crooked against Prussia's prostate, "and the next I'm out!" Just as quickly, he pulled them back, drawing the first two in a firm line along the tight skin inside Prussia before the caught at the edge of his asshole.
"Polen," Prussia groaned, fingers clenching at the edge of the couch cushions. "You-suck" he spat with a final moan before shoving his hips back against Poland's fingers as he came.
"If you like want me to suck you off you should really wait a little while or something you know," Poland replied with an incredulous look as he removed his fingers from Prussia's ass, wiping them clean on the fabric of his boxers.
Prussia's only reply was the smack of head against the now-ruined leather of Germany's couch.
---
Thanks once again to my beta readers nekokoban, moonsheen, and katmaxwell!
Trivia for this fic, Silesia was actually Polish before it ever became Austria's vital regions, and is actually part of contemporary Poland. And for those unfamiliar with Project Runway, Heidi Klum, the show's smoking hot host, was born in Germany and says farewell to competitors who lose a challenge with a ritual "Auf Wiedersehen," hence the phrase "auf'd"
Author/Artist: vulchu
Prompt: Poland has finally managed to get Prussia to watch Project
Runway with him. Yes, THAT Project Runway, with Tim Gunn. Anyway,
Prussia gets into it eventually. A little too into it because after
his fourth Heineken he starts mocking the contestants and claims --
rather stupidly -- that he could make clothes twice as awesome as the
ones on the show, in half the time. Well, Poland takes him up on it,
and Prussia, sober the next day, figures out that it's not as easy as
he thought it was last night. Especially if Poland is his model,
standing on a stool with cloth scantily draped and pinned over his
body. I took a few liberties with this request, I hope the requester doesn't mind!
Pairings: Poland/Prussia
Rating: NC-17
Summary: In fashion, one day you're in; the next you're out.
Word Count: 3193
Somehow, this was all America's fault. America's fault and that stupid hilarious TV show of his. It had started with Poland going on and on about the stupid thing, and when Prussia had told him to shut his stupid trap about a dumb ass reality show that no one watched because it was all about crap that anyone could pull off anyway Poland scoffed and had said "Shyeah, no way. I bet you would like totally get auf'd in the first challenge." And that was how Prussia found himself staring at a mass of fabric sitting on Germany's floor, a sea of pins sitting on his coffee table, and a giant misshapen lump of satin and stripes and something currently occupying the better part of Poland's rear end.
"Like, you had totally better not make my butt look big," Poland chided, standing atop the coffee table which had been usurped to serve as both working table and model stand for their endeavors. "But make it look totally hot," he added as an afterthought. "My ass is like totally my best feature."
Definitely America's fault.
"Your ass is huge, Polen," Prussia grumbled around a mouthful of pins, stabbing fruitlessly at the lump of misshapen fabric. It was supposed to be a skirt. It was supposed to be the most awesome skirt in existence but somehow the awesome skirt in Prussia's mind didn't quite translate into an awesome skirt on Poland's ass.
"Omigod you did not just say that!" Poland scowled, turning to glare down at him. "And like, what are you even doing anyway? Aren't you like supposed to make me look fabulous?"
"Shut up! I'm still figuring out this stupid shit!" Prussia growled, tugging at the fabric which rewarded him with a resounding rip. He glared. "How the hell does this crap even work?"
"That's like, the whole point of it, duh." The way that Poland kept on moving as he talked wasn't helping the tear anyway. "You've got to like make it work and all!"
"Screw you, Polen," Prussia grumbled and just tugged more at the ripping fabric. Ripped edges were edgy and edgy was seriously awesome, right?
"If I were wearing the right skirt you would totally want to," the other country singsonged with a smug grin.
Prussia snorted, tossing the discarded scrap of fabric aside. "There's no skirt in the world that would make me want to do you!"
"No way!" Poland said smoothing his hands over his hips and down across the lumps of fabric covering his butt. "I've totally got like this sexy little back number that like totally hugs my hips and it makes my legs look super amazing."
"Yeah? And what does it do for your dick?"
"Dude, is that like all you can think about?" Poland asked, tossing his hair. "Geeze, did you like turn fag in the last century or something?"
"You're the one talking about wearing skirts!" Prussia protested, poking at Poland's ass.
"Because I look sooo good in them, duh!" Poland replied, wagging his hips as he shifted his weight easily from one leg to the other.
"Chicks do it better," Prussia snorted in reply, shoving another pin or three into the mess of fabric.
"No way," Poland scoffed, giving Prussia a disgusted glare, "I'm totally hotter than your stupid chicks."
"I meant girls, Polen!" Prussia said with a roll of his eyes.
Poland smirked. "Shyeah, like better than them too!"
"Prove it," Prussia retorted, sticking his tongue out at the other country.
"Well first you've got to like, get this tranny mess off of me, duh," Poland scowled, sticking his tongue out in reply.
"It's not a mess, it's awesome in progress!"
"Um, yeah, like whatever, just get rid of it," Poland said, jutting his chin up with toss of his wrist. "You're like, so auf'd. And I'm totally not gonna kiss you either."
"You don't get to talk like Heidi!" Prussia growled, trying to figure out just how to get the waste dump he'd made off of Poland.
Poland paused, snickered, then stared down at Prussia. "Omigod what, I thought you like didn't watch the show!"
"Dude, Heidi's hot shit!" Prussia said with a wide grin. "She's one of West's! Like I don't keep track of his sex bombs."
"So does that like make you his minister of sex defenses or something?" Poland asked, twirling a strand of hair around his finger.
"Hah! I could wage a sexy war on you any day," Prussia leered up at him.
Poland snickered, giving Prussia a look of utter disbelief. "Oh gross is that like your idea of a pick up line?"
Prussia paused, probably a moment too long. "Maybe."
The snickers had evolved into all out laughter, Poland clutching at his stomach with his free arm. "Omigod, Prusy, when was the last time you even got laid?"
"What the hell, Polen?!" Prussia shouted, really grateful that Poland's eyes were closed so he didn't see the heat that was rising to his cheeks.
"You totally haven't!" Poland howled, slapping at his thigh with one hand, "Like not in the last decade even!"
"Shut up!" Prussia glared up at the other country, snorting. "I'm not like Italien's asshole brother! I can score chicks!"
"Hah! I totally knew it!" Poland had nearly doubled over, shaking his hand to untangle it from his hair so he could wipe the tears from his eyes. "You're like so pathetic that you've only got your little birds."
"Girls, damnit!"
Poland's laughter stopped abruptly as he sucked in a deep breath, pushing himself back upright and smirking down at Prussia with a lingering snicker. "Like, if you were screwing girls like why didn't you just say it?"
"I did just say it!" Prussia protested.
"Uh huh, sure." Poland rolled his eyes, suddenly much more interested in his nails than in anything that Prussia had to say. "So like when are you going to take this disaster area off of my awesome butt? I like, don't want you contaminating Śląsk with your mess or anything."
"Schlesien? What the hell Polen, that shit was Österreich's!"
"Yeah like before he totally ass-grabbed it from me. It's not my fault that everyone wants a piece of my ass," Poland said with a casual shrug, before going back to checking his nails.
"Who gives a damn. I can do what I want with Schlesien, it was mine anyway!" Prussia growled in reply, tugging pins out from the mass of fabric.
"Yeah, like after you stole it from me! I totally had dibs on it first!" Poland pouted, arms crossed over his chest.
"Hey, all's fair in love and war or however that shit goes." Hell, it wasn't like Prussia ever read England's shitty poetry anyway. "I won it, so it's mine!"
"Except for how it's totally mine again," Poland said, smirking down at Prussia. "And you like don't even have the army to take it back."
"Hah! Oh yeah?" Prussia grinned up at him, fingers tightening in the fabric bunched around Poland's hips for a moment before he tugged it away, pins and all, diving forward and grabbing two handfulls of Poland's butt.
"Omigod! You perv! Stop grabbing my ass!" Poland squeaked, prying at Prussia's hands in a pretty damn good effort to pull them off.
"It's my ass now!" Prussia growled, digging his fingers in.
"No way!" Poland scowled, grabbing at Prussia's wrist and tugging. "You like wouldn't even know what to do with it!"
"I bet I can think of a couple of things," Prussia replied, digging his fingers in and kneading at Poland's ass. The asshole's stupid nails hurt like a bitch but hell if Prussia was letting go now.
"Uuhm," Poland squirmed under Prussia's hands, snickering under his breath. "Only like totally no, I am like so much better than you when it comes to asses."
"That's cuz you're such a girl, huh?" Prussia snorted, pushing his thumbs in and sliding them up along the skin inside Poland's crack.
"Okay like seriously just cut it out already, Prusy!" Poland nearly squealed, finally tugging himself away from Prussia's hands and off the table. Not wasting a moment he turned and scowled at the other country, fixing him with an angry glare. "Like, just because I said I'd let you make my ass look fabulous is totally not an excuse to go grabbing it all over the place!"
"Um, Polen . . . " Prussia said, his face suddenly flushed.
"And like, it's not like you could do it anyway. You are like so auf'd and you're like auf'd from Śląsk like for forever!"
"Polen . . . " There was a drip of blood hanging perilously at the edge of Prussia's nostril now.
"Though like you could like do anything about it anyway because you like totally aren't even a country anymore so like it totally sucks to be you."
"Nice erection, Polen," Prussia half-muttered, half-snickered from behind the hand that was wiping the blood from his nose.
Poland stared. More like glared, really, before he lifted one perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Okaaay you can like, stop looking at my dick anytime now." He paused, crossing his arms over his chest with a triumphant smirk. "Unless you like wanna suck it."
"I don't want to suck your dick!" Prussia shouted in protest, quickly wiping his hand off on his pants.
"Omigod, you totally do!" Poland crowed, jutting his hips forward for emphasis. "Like, first you were all over my ass and now it's like my dick so you like totally want to do me!"
"No way!"
"Except like sooo yes way," Poland snickered, uncrossing his arms with a wave of his wrist. "I bet that you're like that total pervert Austria and you like totally were getting off when me and Litwa beat you up, weren't you?"
"Yes! No! I mean-Shut up, Polen!" Prussia scowled, his face flushed bright red.
"Like I totally like don't care or whatever," Poland replied with shrug of his shoulders, stepping around the coffee table over to Prussia, "Cuz like pshaw, pretty much everyone in Europe wants a piece of my ass."
"I already had it once!" Prussia grumbled under his breath.
"Yeah but you seriously didn't know what to do with it or whatever. If you're going to like pretend to take it back at least I'm going to show you how to treat it right." There was a confident tilt to the curve of Poland's lips as he placed his hands on Prussia's shoulders, easily turning him around and shoving him down onto Germany's couch in one smooth gesture. Before Prussia's face even hit the cushions, Poland was straddling the back of his thighs, reaching around to undo the button on Prussia's jeans and tug his pants down by the belt loops all in one gesture.
"Hey! Get the fuck off!" Prussia shouted, pushing himself up with one arm. Fuck, he'd forgotten what a little bastard Poland turned into when he got his mind set on something.
"Noo way!" Poland retorted, shoving at Prussia's back with the heel of one hand as he sat up to tug the other country's pants down. "This is like a lesson, and I'm totally going to school you on how to handle an ass as fabulous as mine."
"I don't need to be schooled by the likes of you," Prussia growled, faceplanted into Germany's leather couch cushions.
"You do when I'm like an expert when it comes to asses," Poland said easily, and Prussia could hear the bitchy little grin in his voice. He was going to wipe that jerk's stupid smirk right off his face once he got out from under his stupid trap.
Poland, however, had another plan in mind as he continued to speak, grabbing two handfuls of Prussia's ass as he did. "So you like, just go for the booty grab and all and that's like omigod so totally gross!" He wiggled his fingers against the fabric of Prussia's boxers, digging his fingers in for emphasis.
Prussia squeaked.
Poland didn't seem to notice, letting go and moving on with his lecture. "What you've got to do is like cup it and everything. I mean a firm ass is totally fabulous, it's like a really good peach or something. You've got to like be gentle with it because you totally don't want it bursting all over the place." He demonstrated, sliding his hand down over the fabric of Prussia's boxers before sliding under the curve of his ass and squeezing lightly.
"Polen, you are not comparing my awesome ass to peaches!" Prussia sputtered, finally finding his voice again.
"Well your ass isn't really like peaches," Poland replied matter-of-factly, letting go of Prussia's butt and sitting up. "Unless they're like super ripe peaches that are like kind of flabby and mushy but that's totally gross. They like, get all over your clothes and shit."
"Not rotten peaches either!" Prussia shouted.
"Seriously can you stop like critiquing my metaphors already? I'm like totally doing you a favor here. Geeze, you are like so ungrateful." Poland scowled, putting his hands on his hips with a quiet little 'humph.' He paused for a moment, before putting one hand to his chin, "Anyway, like . . . where was I?"
“Peaches," Prussia muttered after a second. It wasn't really his fault that the way that Poland had been touching his ass felt really good.
"Okay, yeah, so like peaches!" Poland said with a firm nod of his head, putting both hands firmly back into Prussia's butt. "Like the other really great part of doing that is that you can totally use it as like a infiltration or like a reconnaissance trick or like some of that stuff, because once you've got your hand down here-" he demonstrated, slipping his palms back down to cup the bottom of Prussia's ass. "You can totally just keep on going and like pull one of these." Slipping his hands down further he pushed at the hem of Prussia's boxers, running his hands up along the back of Prussia's thighs, cupping his ass again, skin on skin. "Except it's like so totally easier when you're wearing a skirt, you know? Which is why this is what you're supposed to do with a fabulous ass like mine."
"Yeah, sure," Prussia said, becoming more grateful by the moment that Poland couldn't see his face and the brilliant blush that was spreading across it. "So that's it?"
"Um, no way," Poland snickered-his voice way closer than it was a moment ago. Prussia jerked up slightly, turning to glare at the other country only to find that Poland was nearly face to face with him, leaning forward from his perch on Prussia's thighs. His smirk just got wider as he leaned in closer, pulling his hands apart and parting Prussia's ass. "Once you've got it here you can totally move in for more damage." One hand slipped inward, Poland's thumb reaching out to massage a firm circle around the pucker of Prussia's asshole.
Prussia couldn't stop the groan that it pulled from his throat, jerking his head back to glare intently at the couch cushions. "Okay, I get it!" he spat out, reaching back to smack one-handedly at Poland's arms. "Get off my ass now!"
Poland was all out laughing now, leaning back out of Prussia's range as he tugged his boxers up and to the side with his other hand as he fingered Prussia's asshole, thumb running hard over the hole. "Omigosh, this is totally turning you on. It's like, okay to like it you know. You can totally admit that I'm your meister or whatever."
"You are not the meister of anything," Prussia growled, trying to sit up again but finding himself still thwarted by the pressure of Poland sitting on his legs.
"I totally am the meister of something, I'm the meister of doing your ass," Poland sing-songed to himself, tapping his lips with his fingers before he pushed them in, licking all along them like they were some kind of lollipop. Prussia could tell from the slick smack of his lips against skin, squirming half with protest half with anticipation before the sounds stopped, only a moment before Poland pushed one of the now-slicked fingers up Prussia's ass.
"Damnit-Poland!" Prussia half-shouted half-moaned, which in hindsight probably really didn't help his case. "This isn't supposed to be a lecture in doing me up the ass!"
"Except how that's totally what I'm doing," Poland replied, working the finger in and out of him with steadily increasing speed "C'mon you like totally like it don't you? You totally want more, right?"
"Yes-I mean-fuck, at least do it harder!" It wasn't as though Poland had been wrong, earlier. It had been a while since he'd been laid, and the way that Poland was working his ass felt really good; he couldn't even really help riding his hips back against the other country's finger.
"Well I'll do it but like only if you say please," Poland taunted, circling at Prussia's entrance before pushing his finger in, agonizingly slow.
"Please, all right, please?!" Prussia growled, his back arching against the sensation, hands gripping for purchase at the edge of the couch's cushions.
Poland made a irritable sigh, pulling his fingers back out. "Geeze, like you don't have to yell it," he muttered, quickly pushing two fingers back into Prussia's ass.
"Shut up and just keep going." As much as Prussia didn't want to admit it, this was the best he'd ever got from someone's hand up his ass. Not that he ever let anyone near there, but the way that Poland's fingers scissored and stretched at him, rubbing quick, firm circles against his prostate before pulling out and then shoving back in against the same spot. This was good, this was fucking amazing. He didn't even really care that it was Poland anymore because it was good, it was spiking up his back and straight to his groin and damnit he was getting so close and-
"So this is totally like fashion you know," Poland said abruptly, snickering to himself as his fingers fucked Prussia's asshole.
"Yeah," Prussia muttered between a low groan and a deep, panting breath, "How the hell is that so?"
"It's totally like one minute I'm in," he continued, shoving his hand in deep, fingers crooked against Prussia's prostate, "and the next I'm out!" Just as quickly, he pulled them back, drawing the first two in a firm line along the tight skin inside Prussia before the caught at the edge of his asshole.
"Polen," Prussia groaned, fingers clenching at the edge of the couch cushions. "You-suck" he spat with a final moan before shoving his hips back against Poland's fingers as he came.
"If you like want me to suck you off you should really wait a little while or something you know," Poland replied with an incredulous look as he removed his fingers from Prussia's ass, wiping them clean on the fabric of his boxers.
Prussia's only reply was the smack of head against the now-ruined leather of Germany's couch.
---
Thanks once again to my beta readers nekokoban, moonsheen, and katmaxwell!
Trivia for this fic, Silesia was actually Polish before it ever became Austria's vital regions, and is actually part of contemporary Poland. And for those unfamiliar with Project Runway, Heidi Klum, the show's smoking hot host, was born in Germany and says farewell to competitors who lose a challenge with a ritual "Auf Wiedersehen," hence the phrase "auf'd"