[ ficlet ] Loopholes [ Greece/Spain, Hetalia ]
Title: Loopholes
Author: frostberryjam
Rating: PG-ish.
Pairing: Greece/Spain (Axis Powers Hetalia)
Warnings: AU, crappy writing. OOCness.
Summary: AU: Spain is the soccer coach. He may or may not have a thing for his star player.
Author Notes: Written for a commentfic meme, this time for peachmusk. Jesus Christ, little sister, I swear someday I’ll write a fic for you that doesn’t blow.
Really.
Meme key code: GAE: Greece/Spain / AU! School staff x student / Jealousy
The knock on the door came precisely five minutes before he was due to leave for the day. Spain debated with himself whether to pretend that he wasn’t actually there and then shame beat him over the head with a stick. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, mussing the wavy strands before he called out a defeated; “Enter.”
He was just too much of a good guy to not be there if someone needed him. Spain pulled the whistle necklace off his neck and glanced up to see who it was as the door was opened.
Ay, Dios. He thought with a surge of worry at seeing his star soccer player enter his office. Greece had apparently just come out of the shower, hair wet and almost darkened to black. Spain tried to shake of a feeling of vague uneasiness that came about a grown man (alright; he was only twenty-five, this was hardly skeevy) being attracted to an eighteen year old boy. A student of his, no less.
Who happened to be taller, better-looking and stronger than he was but that was utterly not the point. Even though France might say that it was. Spain managed a genuine smile. “Hey. What can I do for you?” He leaned his elbows on the desk, waiting. The clock on the wall counted the seconds as Greece walked across the office, moving with an innate grace that made him fearsome on the soccer field.
It was difficult not to notice that the teenager wasn’t carrying a bag with him, nor did he choose to sit down. Instead his gaze flicked towards the open office window that overlooked the grassy soccer field, now empty after practice.
Greece glanced back at him, expression unreadable. “Your hickey is showing.”
Coño de la madre. Spain guiltily covered the side of his neck with a hand, having loosened his collar since he hadn’t thought to run into any more students for the day. Goddamn it, he had told Prussia to watch those teeth of his. Last time that maldito crashed at his house after a weekend bender. “Ah. I don’t think you came in just for that, did you?”
“No.” Greece moved over to the window and calmly closed the curtains. “But I admit to being irritated now.”
An incredulous ‘seriously?’ almost popped out of Spain’s mouth because Greece’s expression and tone remained bland and disinterested. If he was disturbed not one iota of it showed. He sat back in his chair, room dark without the sunlight coming through the window.
“Are you having an issue with someone on the team?” He ventured, lost. Maybe Turkey? The two had never gotten along, worse before than now, but the occasional flare up was still inevitable.
“No.” A shaft of light pierced the dimness as Greece dug his fingers between the blinds, looking outside before letting his fingers slip out, snapping the room back into darkness. “Hey, Coach?”
“Yes?”
“Do you know how many people on the school staff I’ve slept with?”
Spain laughed, thinking it was a joke. “Let me guess -- zero?”
Greece turned towards him, a quiet smile tilting the corner of his mouth. “Higher than that.”
Spain sat back in his chair. He raised his hand halfway to rub his forehead and caught himself. “I honestly can’t pretend to know and don’t want to know.” He said firmly, even though his gut twisted with something he was uncomfortably terming as ‘jealousy’. He attempted another smile. “You don’t want me to get you into trouble, right?”
Although how he was going explain this to the Principal, he was unsure. “So hey, that one student that I might or might not want to give a blowjob to in the shower just happened to confess one day that he’s had sex with someone on staff…”
That would just go over spectacularly. Germania would fire him on the spot. If not call the police.
Somewhere in the midst of his hysterically-tinged thoughts Greece had moved away from the window and come around the small desk. Spain began to rise out of his chair, sensing despite his rather dense nature that letting himself be caught would not be in his best interests.
Greece planted a palm on his chest and calmly pushed him back into the chair. Spain’s mouth flattened into a line and he gripped the teenager’s tanned wrist with his own fingers, not about to accept that from a student either.
“Greece.” He said warningly.
“Austria and his wife.”
“What?”
“Music teacher and Home Ec. Both of them. At the same time.” Greece stated without a hint of pride, hand flat over Spain’s heart. He leaned down and placed his free hand over Spain’s shoulder, making it difficult for the other man to even try to stand up.
Spain’s eyes narrowed briefly before he shrugged. “Good for you.” ‘Although now I have to wonder about all those dinner invitations Hungary’s been giving me lately.’
“The French teacher.”
Spain choked, indignation flaring. “France?”
Ay, Dios mio. Why was he even surprised? Puto. His opinion of his friends and coworkers was swiftly hitting rock bottom.
“Fantastic. So what, I’m next on the list?” He smiled blankly and pushed Greece‘s hand off his chest so that he couldn‘t feel how hard his heart was beating. “Sorry; I already have a lover. Good luck with the next name below mine.”
“I noticed.” Greece drawled, finally sounding irritated. He touched the bruise made by lips and teeth on the side of Spain’s throat, the sensation feather-light as his fingertips ran down the line of his throat, his clavicle through the clothing and the next thing Spain knew the path was taken down his shoulder, over the curve of his elbow and Greece had strong fingers coiled around his wrist.
He brought the hand against his mouth, palm up and breathed over it. The warm breath sent little shocks of super sensitivity down his arm and shooting straight down his spine. Spain shivered, fingers curling defensively. “I don’t touch my students.”
“That’s alright.” Greece answered serenely, kissing his curled fingers with dry but soft lips. “I’ll do all the touching.”
Author: frostberryjam
Rating: PG-ish.
Pairing: Greece/Spain (Axis Powers Hetalia)
Warnings: AU, crappy writing. OOCness.
Summary: AU: Spain is the soccer coach. He may or may not have a thing for his star player.
Author Notes: Written for a commentfic meme, this time for peachmusk. Jesus Christ, little sister, I swear someday I’ll write a fic for you that doesn’t blow.
Really.
Meme key code: GAE: Greece/Spain / AU! School staff x student / Jealousy
The knock on the door came precisely five minutes before he was due to leave for the day. Spain debated with himself whether to pretend that he wasn’t actually there and then shame beat him over the head with a stick. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, mussing the wavy strands before he called out a defeated; “Enter.”
He was just too much of a good guy to not be there if someone needed him. Spain pulled the whistle necklace off his neck and glanced up to see who it was as the door was opened.
Ay, Dios. He thought with a surge of worry at seeing his star soccer player enter his office. Greece had apparently just come out of the shower, hair wet and almost darkened to black. Spain tried to shake of a feeling of vague uneasiness that came about a grown man (alright; he was only twenty-five, this was hardly skeevy) being attracted to an eighteen year old boy. A student of his, no less.
Who happened to be taller, better-looking and stronger than he was but that was utterly not the point. Even though France might say that it was. Spain managed a genuine smile. “Hey. What can I do for you?” He leaned his elbows on the desk, waiting. The clock on the wall counted the seconds as Greece walked across the office, moving with an innate grace that made him fearsome on the soccer field.
It was difficult not to notice that the teenager wasn’t carrying a bag with him, nor did he choose to sit down. Instead his gaze flicked towards the open office window that overlooked the grassy soccer field, now empty after practice.
Greece glanced back at him, expression unreadable. “Your hickey is showing.”
Coño de la madre. Spain guiltily covered the side of his neck with a hand, having loosened his collar since he hadn’t thought to run into any more students for the day. Goddamn it, he had told Prussia to watch those teeth of his. Last time that maldito crashed at his house after a weekend bender. “Ah. I don’t think you came in just for that, did you?”
“No.” Greece moved over to the window and calmly closed the curtains. “But I admit to being irritated now.”
An incredulous ‘seriously?’ almost popped out of Spain’s mouth because Greece’s expression and tone remained bland and disinterested. If he was disturbed not one iota of it showed. He sat back in his chair, room dark without the sunlight coming through the window.
“Are you having an issue with someone on the team?” He ventured, lost. Maybe Turkey? The two had never gotten along, worse before than now, but the occasional flare up was still inevitable.
“No.” A shaft of light pierced the dimness as Greece dug his fingers between the blinds, looking outside before letting his fingers slip out, snapping the room back into darkness. “Hey, Coach?”
“Yes?”
“Do you know how many people on the school staff I’ve slept with?”
Spain laughed, thinking it was a joke. “Let me guess -- zero?”
Greece turned towards him, a quiet smile tilting the corner of his mouth. “Higher than that.”
Spain sat back in his chair. He raised his hand halfway to rub his forehead and caught himself. “I honestly can’t pretend to know and don’t want to know.” He said firmly, even though his gut twisted with something he was uncomfortably terming as ‘jealousy’. He attempted another smile. “You don’t want me to get you into trouble, right?”
Although how he was going explain this to the Principal, he was unsure. “So hey, that one student that I might or might not want to give a blowjob to in the shower just happened to confess one day that he’s had sex with someone on staff…”
That would just go over spectacularly. Germania would fire him on the spot. If not call the police.
Somewhere in the midst of his hysterically-tinged thoughts Greece had moved away from the window and come around the small desk. Spain began to rise out of his chair, sensing despite his rather dense nature that letting himself be caught would not be in his best interests.
Greece planted a palm on his chest and calmly pushed him back into the chair. Spain’s mouth flattened into a line and he gripped the teenager’s tanned wrist with his own fingers, not about to accept that from a student either.
“Greece.” He said warningly.
“Austria and his wife.”
“What?”
“Music teacher and Home Ec. Both of them. At the same time.” Greece stated without a hint of pride, hand flat over Spain’s heart. He leaned down and placed his free hand over Spain’s shoulder, making it difficult for the other man to even try to stand up.
Spain’s eyes narrowed briefly before he shrugged. “Good for you.” ‘Although now I have to wonder about all those dinner invitations Hungary’s been giving me lately.’
“The French teacher.”
Spain choked, indignation flaring. “France?”
Ay, Dios mio. Why was he even surprised? Puto. His opinion of his friends and coworkers was swiftly hitting rock bottom.
“Fantastic. So what, I’m next on the list?” He smiled blankly and pushed Greece‘s hand off his chest so that he couldn‘t feel how hard his heart was beating. “Sorry; I already have a lover. Good luck with the next name below mine.”
“I noticed.” Greece drawled, finally sounding irritated. He touched the bruise made by lips and teeth on the side of Spain’s throat, the sensation feather-light as his fingertips ran down the line of his throat, his clavicle through the clothing and the next thing Spain knew the path was taken down his shoulder, over the curve of his elbow and Greece had strong fingers coiled around his wrist.
He brought the hand against his mouth, palm up and breathed over it. The warm breath sent little shocks of super sensitivity down his arm and shooting straight down his spine. Spain shivered, fingers curling defensively. “I don’t touch my students.”
“That’s alright.” Greece answered serenely, kissing his curled fingers with dry but soft lips. “I’ll do all the touching.”