Blut und Tränen 1/? [Germancest]

Dec 27, 2010 22:27

There is german in this and...there will be darker themes in this later. Do not expect a sweet fluffy fic from this ;D

Blut und Tränen, Teil 1

„Shhh, sei still Bruder! Sonst hören sie uns.“

Gilbert couldn’t believe Ludwig had the nerve to say that to him whilst ramming himself inside the Prussian’s ass with all his might.
Easy for him to say, alright.

Gilbert did his best, clutching to broad shoulders and burying his face in his brother’s shoulder. Yes, it was his brother fucking him here, in this…well whatever this cupboard was for, it was tiny, dark and now cramped. Well, it probably hadn’t been designed as a secret place for Germans to fuck in. But that was certainly what it had become and not for the first time. Ludwig was far kinkier than most people or nations gave him credit for. Gilbert knew. Gilbert knew because his dear brother lived out his kinks with him, his lover, best friend and brother.

Right, it would probably make sense to backtrack as to how they got to be in the situation they were in. Fucking inside a tiny cupboard directly attached to the meeting room of the current World Conference. America had continued, despite the suspicious absence of both East and West Germany, but any moment now, they could discover the brothers rutting away in their little dark hiding place.

It had started off so innocently as well. Gilbert had taken yet another break to go smoke in the bathroom, bored shitless by the topics of the meeting. Economy, environment, third world countries…It never changed. He remembered, back in the day, when Europe WAS the world. When no snotty loudmouth brat from across the ocean declared himself the hero of the world and ordered them all around.

Oh, Gilbert would give him a mouthful, a damn piece of his mind, but he knew it was pointless. Not just because it was extremely difficult talking any kind of sense into America, it was a downright uphill struggle, that one, no, it was also because no one listened to him. Almost as invisible as Canada, Prussia had faded from importance a long time ago. Now he was Germany and Ludwig was Germany. And everyone rather dealt with Ludwig than with Gilbert.

Ludwig, who had followed his brother, driven onwards by some sort of devious desire, had slammed him against a wall, silently burning up for him, sky-blue eyes begging for Prussia to give in to the ever-present sexual tension between them. Gilbert had smirked, accepting the needs of his brother, playing a little game of seduction with him. But it hadn’t even been necessary. Ludwig had practically dragged the albino into the cupboard by his hair, arousal pulsing through his body.
Oh, everyone thought Germany had fizzled into a hard-working, quiet temper…well, mostly true, but only for his dear Ludwig, the accepted voice of Germany. He, Gilbert, the insignificant east, was the same and so, was to be ignored.

He knew why, too. It wasn’t his admittedly sometimes obnoxiously cool behaviour. Neither was it the fact his original country had been dissolved and he was just…the other side of Germany.
No, he knew why. And so did everyone else. Countries had better memories than elephants. And those memories had recorded meticulously a little event called world war two. Or rather, the certain roles of world war two.

Ludwig had been a high-ranking officer in the Wehrmacht, or rather; he’d had the duties of one. But Gilbert? Gilbert had been…well let’s just say he looked damn good in black. Why? Prussia hadn’t been entirely for the Nazis you might say. Well, true enough.

But Gilbert was not just Prussia. He was also…well a person. And he had been perfectly suited for this work. He knew damn well his brother would become horrified by this work, would probably surrender and make them lose another world war. Gilbert couldn’t have that. His era was coming to a harsh end and he would have done anything to keep his brother pure and strong.

So, in the end, when the allies had confronted them, it had been Gilbert, in his beautiful, cruel, black SS uniform that had offered to take on the entire blame, the punishment, the dissolution.

Because he loved his brother. He loved him more than anything in his entire life. The immoral side of it had never concerned him. Loving his brother? Was that supposed to be a sin? Oh please, he had done so much worse. Not that he felt guilt for it. No. He’d suffered enough punishment, he’d never feel guilty for those years, for those actions.

So nowadays, Gilbert didn’t say much in meetings. One word, or a sentence suggesting some sort of plan of action and all eyes would wander over him. He knew what they were thinking. He wasn’t stupid. He could read it in their expressions…America. That pitiful, young nation with more brawn than brain, his eyes were tainted with fear. The same as when Russia spoke. Alfred feared the ex-satellite state Gilbert represented, the little satellite that had been armed up to the eyeballs in order to strike at him, the “hero”.

Russia.
Not someone he was interested in speaking to either. Russia was still broken; something had shattered the behemoth’s mind when his precious Union had slowly crumbled. Russia was a loose cannon, but not one he, Gilbert, feared. No. He’d made his peace with Russia, even if it was a hateful, don’t-speak-to-me peace. Russia had kept Gilbert alive after the war, by separating him from his brother. Unnecessarily cruel punishments as retribution for the war crimes he and his brother had committed kept Gilbert from ever being grateful to Ivan. And that would never change.

Neither would it change the way France, England, Denmark, Norway, Poland, Belgium and Hungary looked at him. “Nazi. You’re still a fucking Nazi!” their eyes, they screamed it at him.
The worst part of all this was probably how little Gilbert cared. He was not ashamed. He never would be, because what else could they do to him? Kill him? Impossible without committing genocide on his people, Ludwig’s people.

Ludwig…

Oh his dear brother…He had…changed.

It had started a few months back. It was subtle, real subtle. His brother had been so stressed, overtaxed with his enormous workload which he was unwilling to share. Damn workaholic. But it seemed, even Ludwig succumbed to stress. Because something inside of him had snapped. Gilbert remembered it almost fondly. It had been a long time since his brother had been so rough with him. Not just from sexual lust, but from a deep need to dominate him utterly, to have him begging for mercy, to have him submit like a dog.

It had happened several times since then, but Ludwig was utterly unable to speak of it. No, it wasn’t something Gilbert could bring up in a casual dinner conversation. It was a dirty little secret and if he, Gilbert, had to shut his mouth in order to feel that overwhelming sadistic lust radiating from his brother again, he would shut up.

Of course Ludwig wouldn’t speak of it. He was ashamed, so deeply ashamed of his past. Their past. Not one word about those times had passed his well-shaped lips and that was not likely to change.

He still flinched when someone called him a Nazi.

.

It never used to be like this.

An animalistic grunt escaped the blonde German as he continued pushing his brother towards his orgasm. His hands were slamming the albino’s hips hard against his own, burying himself again and again in his own brother. He could feel his finish approaching, but there was no stilling this insatiable lust. Like a man dying of thirst, it could only be slaked, never quenched. Ludwig had wondered what was wrong with him before, usually after he had fucked Gilbert so hard the albino fell straight asleep in his arms.

It never used to be like this.

He had always, as long as he remembered, desired his brother. There was no changing that fact and Ludwig had made his peace with their incestuous relationship a long time ago. But he had always been loving towards his brother. He cherished Gilbert and he never wanted him to think otherwise.

So why on earth had he begun to be so rough? When on earth had he become such a nymphomaniac that he couldn’t turn down a fuck in the middle of an important meeting?

Okay, there was a time…A time when Ludwig was rough with his dearly beloved brother. When he had lived out some truly dark fetishes and pushed even the albino to his limits.

But that time was long over and Ludwig never wanted to think of it again. What he had done back then was unforgivable, a fact he never failed to remember.

Ever since the Unification, Ludwig had paid extra attention to the needs of his brother whenever he could. And their sex had been…loving, always. Even if it may have been very heated for a couple of months due to their long separation. But it had never been this…animalistic.
Oh god, Gilbert was starting to bite his exposed collarbone, whining and moaning against his skin. Ludwig felt his brother’s hot, wet tongue trace over his firm skin, leaving marks, scraping against him in a desperate bid to stay quiet.

This was insane! Everyone was next door! Right outside! If they found them like this…Well Germany’s reputation, his hard-earned reputation that he was a good nation, a strong and dependable and honest one, would go down the drain. No respectable nation fucked their brother.
Gilbert whined again, his ass was probably getting sore from the harsh pounding it was subjected to.

“Oh ja, Scheiße, Bruder, liebst du es, wie ich dich ficke?” Ludwig heard himself whispering hotly into the albino’s ear.

What? What was that tone in his voice? That low, dangerous growl? He must have been…very frustrated recently, because he could feela part of him blushing with mad embarrassment about this. But somehow, that part seemed…very distant, with no control or attachment to Ludwig as he pushed onwards.

Speaking of pushing onwards, Gilbert was really moaning loudly into his chest now. It seemed he couldn’t keep quiet, no matter how hard he tried to bite his tongue or press his mouth into Ludwig’s skin. The younger of the two brothers could only smirk. It felt good, so damn good, to shut his loudmouth brother up, to fill him up so entirely that even Gilbert couldn’t come up with something clever to say.

Or at least, so he thought.

“Ah, West, dein Schwanz is härter als ne Panzerfaust, kesese, hattest…ha, du es so nötig?”

Oh that damn dirty mouth! Gods, next time, to keep him quiet, he’d just shove his member between those smirking lips. The thought was utterly attractive to Ludwig, to think of Gilbert choking on him, but loving every second, greedy lips and tongue working him over…

With another, incredibly hard thrust against Gilbert’s prostrate, Ludwig came, without regard as to whether his partner had been pleasured to his climax too. But conveniently, feeling his brother come inside of him was enough for Gilbert to also reach that wonderful place as he unloaded between their sweaty bodies. The albino slumped against his brother, giving a pleased, purring sound.

Ludwig opened his mouth to scold his brother for his earlier, hastily panted words, when an ominous creaking behind made him stiffen up. And not a second too late, because the flimsy wooden door had given up its hopeless existence and just broken from its hinges. Both of the Germans would have tumbled to the floor if it hadn’t been for Ludwig’s reflexes. He clutched his brother to himself and stumbled backwards, but he stayed upright. He took a relieved breath.

Before realizing they had just tumbled from a cupboard, half-naked and sweaty, covered in various fluids and utterly breathless in front of the entire world.

(translations:
"Shh,sei still Bruder! Sonst hören sie uns."
"Shh, be quiet brother! Or they'll hear us."

"Oh ja Scheiße Bruder! Liebst du es, wie ich dich ficke?"
"Oh yes shit, brother! Are you loving it, how I'm fucking you?"

"Ah West, dein Schwanz ist härter als ne Panzerfaust, kesese, hattest du es so nötig?"
"Ah West, your dick is harder than a Panzerfaust, kesese, were you that horny?")

fanfiction, germancest ludwig gilbert

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