[FANFIC] Beer, Idiots and Sweat
Name of Recipient: theyaoiwildcard
Type of Gift: Fancition
Rating: NC-17
Title: Beer, Idiots and Sweat
Summary: Germany's had too much to drink and a certain somebody in a skimpy costume is in his sights. Who can possibly help this drunkard?
Author Notes: The recipient left the plot up to me. It's pretty much PWP. During this year's Halloween event, I saw this doodle Himaruya did. I'm pretty sure it was him and not a fanart on pixiv. It was headshots of Germany looking at Italy and Japan looking at them both. That's where I got this idea. The dialogue in italics is Japan's thoughts
German Google translations:
Er ist ein flirt. = He's a flirt.
Ich möchte euch zu essen. = I want to eat you.
America’s Halloween party came and went. It had been a total surprise that Vietnam had won the contest with her robot costume.
There were groups of nations enjoying each other’s company. What had started out as Italy wearing a revealing Roman slave costume turned into several countries mysteriously wearing similar garb. They were all happily chatting and drinking Germany’s beer. Well, except for France and England who were arguing with each other. Some things never changed.
Japan was quietly watching the proceedings, mentally taking notes. He blushed bright pink when he noticed Hungary’s very flat chest and tried to figure out how she had accomplished that. He couldn’t comprehend most nations, but females thoroughly confused him.
He sipped his now warm beer. Italy was a bit away from him and was now in between France and England trying to break up their fight with a white flag. Italy was still afraid of England after all that time, but he still hated seeing those two fighting and tried his best in breaking them up.
Japan added another "bunny" to his ever-growing list of ideas for doujinshi. This one would have France and England fighting and making up or rather, making out in the bathroom of a conference center after a grueling day of meetings. Maybe not his best, but definitely something that will have the girls salivating.
Seeing that white flag brought forth painful memories for Japan. He was sure Germany still harbored his own painful memories as well.
And speaking of Germany-san, what is he up to?
Japan turned around and found Germany in a daze. He wondered what had him in such a state. His face looked flushed and his mouth slightly open. He followed his line of sight and found him interested, or so it appeared, in the fight between France and England with Italy in between them.
He stepped closer to Germany and realized his mistake. Germany was already drunk even if he didn’t show it. The big lug stepped out of character and put his arm around the smaller man’s shoulders and whispered in his ear, "Er ist ein flirt, Japan."
Japan froze, many thoughts going through his head, "What? Italy-kun flirting? No! You’re touching me! DON’T TOUCH ME!"
He tried to step away from Germany and in his struggle, he looked down. Quite possibly the biggest mistake of his long life. Germany’s Roman costume had gotten short in the front thanks to the hard-on he was publicly displaying.
Japan’s body turned red. Frantically he pushed a reluctant Germany in the direction of the washroom to get him to calm down. On the way, he took Germany’s almost empty mug and left both mugs on a chair.
"Germany-san! Get a hold of yourself." Japan pushed Germany one last time in the direction of the sinks. He fanned himself to get the flush and his heated skin to calm down.
"But Japan, he is a flirt and doesn’t care." Germany leaned his hands against the sink and finally realized why Japan was in such a panic. He smiled and stuck his hand under the thin garment covering his big body. He spaced his legs wider and threw his head back, imagining whose hand was touching him.
Japan watched in fascinated horror as Germany started to stroke himself. He almost ran up to the other nation to get him to stop and just as quickly changed his mind and ran out, his own modesty forgotten in his haste.
He found Italy still clutching his white flag with both hands. England threatening him with bodily harm if he didn’t move out of the way. Japan didn’t bother excusing himself or Italy and simply grabbed him and pulled him away from the other two.
"Come with me, Italy-kun! It’s an emergency!" He grabbed Italy’s white flag and flung it to the side.
"Veeee, Japan! Where are we going? My flaaaag!" Italy tried to pull away to get his flag back, but in this instance Japan won.
"Go in there and help Germany-san! Good luck!" He pushed Italy all the way inside and as fast as his bare feet could carry him, Japan ran back out. Once outside, he breathed a sigh of relief. His whole body was covered in sweat and he still felt flushed. All he needed now was to find something to block the entrance. He wasn’t sure what would happen to those two, but now he knew what his next doujinshi would be about. "Wait! No! That was going to be my plot for England-san and France-san! Now I’ll have to come up with a new plot for them."
A flat-chested Hungary walked up to Japan. "I saw that. You better share with me later." She winked and went back to harass Austria about something or other.
Italy’s brain picked up the words GERMANY and DANGER from Japan’s actions and not so much from what Japan had actually said. Now he cowered in the waiting area of the restroom. He could hear Germany’s distressed voice. Somebody must’ve been hurting him. He was afraid, though. He wished Japan hadn’t taken his precious white flag away. At least he could’ve surrendered to the enemy hurting Germany and helped his friend out.
He heard his name being called out and Italy rushed in ready to help his friend if necessary. Deep down he hoped Germany would help him.
"ITALIAN SPIIIIRIIIIT!!" Italy rushed in, eyes closed and fists flying. He expected the bad guy holding Germany down. Instead he found his friend in the throes of pleasuring himself. Italy went and confused the whole situation.
"GERMANY! WHAT’S WRONG?!"
"Italy..." Germany turned around to look at Italy. His still inebriated mind slowly grasped the situation.
"Italy, what..."
Italy looked around, checked the stalls, under the sink and he found nobody else. Only Germany and he were in the restroom.
"Veee, where’d the bastard go? I’ll defend you, Germany! Remember? I told you I’d help you if you got into trouble."
Germany looked Italy up and down. He was still wearing the sexy slave costume. The cuffs around his wrists made him look sexier. He rubbed his erection again and approached Italy.
"I’m the enemy, Italy. Ich möchte euch zu essen."
"Oh, Germany!" Italy giggled. "You can’t eat people or nations."
Germany grabbed Italy’s wrist and pulled him to his chest.
"Not like that. I mean eat you up because you’re so damn sexy."
"Sexy? I’m not a girl, Germany." Italy looked down and finally noticed Germany’s erection and his costume bunched around his waist.
"Italy..." Germany kissed Italy’s forehead and tilted his head up. "You do look sexy in that getup. Will you be my slave?"
"Germany, I can’t be your slave." Italy turned bright pink. He looked back up and smiled at Germany. "It would be wrong."
"Sometimes you can be a total twit," Germany closed his eyes, his hand still stroking his cock. "And there are times when your idiocy is adorable."
Italy may have been an idiot, but he wasn’t that stupid. He beamed at Germany, "Thank you!" He tiptoed and gave Germany a kiss on the cheek.
Germany smirked. Once they were both on the same wavelength, it was only a matter of making each other feel good.
Italy was standing in front of the floor length mirror in the restroom’s waiting area. His costume lay in the same corner where he’d cowered just a few minutes earlier. The cuffs around his neck, wrists and ankle were still on. Germany was similarly naked behind Italy and itching to touch his partner all over.
"Veee, Germany, can I put my clothes back on?"
"Not...yet. And leave your hands to your side."
Italy complied. His arms hung at his side. Germany continued to pleasure himself slowly. He didn’t want to finish the party so quickly.
He whispered in Italy’s ear, "Touch yourself."
Italy giggled, "You’re a pervert, Germany."
He whispered again, "And that’s why I want you to touch yourself." Germany looked in the mirror for Italy’s reaction and pinched his nipple. Italy meeped and blushed.
That was enough to get Italy to clumsily grab his flaccid member and begin to stroke it.
"Come on, Italy." His nipple got twisted again. "You can do better than that."
Germany let the nipple go and put his hand over Italy’s and guided him, "Just like that." He never stopped watching Italy’s reflection on the mirror. "You got it, Italy."
Italy raised his free arm and wrapped it around Germany’s neck for support. Germany liked what he was seeing. It wasn’t every day that he got to partake of this delectable fruit.
He still wasn’t entirely sure how they ended up there. All the blood had left his brain and was now being used in parts that needed it the most. The only thing guiding him was the desire to possess Italy. The image on the mirror confirmed that.
Italy started to react to Germany’s ministrations and his hips started to move of their own. He closed his eyes to let the sensation wash over him. He could feel his whole body flush from the sensations and from feeling Germany’s slick body pressed against his back.
Italy threw his head back when he felt Germany’s engorged cock slide up between his butt cheeks. The sensation felt so delicious and he wanted more of that.
Germany took the chance to nibble on Italy’s earlobe and whispered, "Open your thighs, Italy." He complied expecting to be doubled over. "Now close them," Germany swallowed, his voice rough from panting. "And let me make you feel good."
Again Italy complied and realized what Germany was trying to do. Germany’s slick cock was sliding in and out between his legs and rubbing his balls in the process.
Italy watched his own cock bounce to his body’s and Germany’s rhythm. Germany’s own cock peeked from between his thighs with each thrust.
Now Germany put both arms around Italy’s torso and continued to slide trying to reach his own climax. "You know what you have to do now." Germany whispered again.
They hadn’t done anything like this before. The sensations were totally different and Italy felt himself quickly reaching the point of no return. He came while he still had Germany’s spurting cock in between his legs.
Both were covered in sweat, their bodies twitching from the strong orgasm and breathing heavily.
Not ten minutes had passed since Japan had shoved Italy into the men’s restroom. He’d stood guard as close to the door as he could. The only one who seemed to know what was going was Hungary. He couldn’t figure out how she knew.
Japan continued to fidget while kneeling on the floor when suddenly a blond and disheveled head popped out of nowhere and called him over.
"Hmm, sorry to bother you, Japan. I need something to wrap Italy in," Germany coughed nervously, his head cleared from the liquor and his rampant hormones. "I’m taking him home."
Japan’s past training with Germany and Italy kicked in and he saluted. "Yes, sir! Right away!" He trotted off in the direction of the stage and there he found something big and black. It was probably spandex, but he wasn’t sure.
He brought it back to Germany, "I think this will fit Italy-kun." He bowed and offered it to Germany.
"Isn’t this America’s?"
Japan blushed, "I believe so, but he doesn’t need it. He’s a Roman slave now." He bowed again and walked away.
In a corner, away from prying eyes, Grandpa Roma was crying. His friend Germania had held him back when he saw what was happening to his precious Veneciano at Germany’s hands.
"I’ll never forgive him!"
"Idiot."
Type of Gift: Fancition
Rating: NC-17
Title: Beer, Idiots and Sweat
Summary: Germany's had too much to drink and a certain somebody in a skimpy costume is in his sights. Who can possibly help this drunkard?
Author Notes: The recipient left the plot up to me. It's pretty much PWP. During this year's Halloween event, I saw this doodle Himaruya did. I'm pretty sure it was him and not a fanart on pixiv. It was headshots of Germany looking at Italy and Japan looking at them both. That's where I got this idea. The dialogue in italics is Japan's thoughts
German Google translations:
Er ist ein flirt. = He's a flirt.
Ich möchte euch zu essen. = I want to eat you.
America’s Halloween party came and went. It had been a total surprise that Vietnam had won the contest with her robot costume.
There were groups of nations enjoying each other’s company. What had started out as Italy wearing a revealing Roman slave costume turned into several countries mysteriously wearing similar garb. They were all happily chatting and drinking Germany’s beer. Well, except for France and England who were arguing with each other. Some things never changed.
Japan was quietly watching the proceedings, mentally taking notes. He blushed bright pink when he noticed Hungary’s very flat chest and tried to figure out how she had accomplished that. He couldn’t comprehend most nations, but females thoroughly confused him.
He sipped his now warm beer. Italy was a bit away from him and was now in between France and England trying to break up their fight with a white flag. Italy was still afraid of England after all that time, but he still hated seeing those two fighting and tried his best in breaking them up.
Japan added another "bunny" to his ever-growing list of ideas for doujinshi. This one would have France and England fighting and making up or rather, making out in the bathroom of a conference center after a grueling day of meetings. Maybe not his best, but definitely something that will have the girls salivating.
Seeing that white flag brought forth painful memories for Japan. He was sure Germany still harbored his own painful memories as well.
And speaking of Germany-san, what is he up to?
Japan turned around and found Germany in a daze. He wondered what had him in such a state. His face looked flushed and his mouth slightly open. He followed his line of sight and found him interested, or so it appeared, in the fight between France and England with Italy in between them.
He stepped closer to Germany and realized his mistake. Germany was already drunk even if he didn’t show it. The big lug stepped out of character and put his arm around the smaller man’s shoulders and whispered in his ear, "Er ist ein flirt, Japan."
Japan froze, many thoughts going through his head, "What? Italy-kun flirting? No! You’re touching me! DON’T TOUCH ME!"
He tried to step away from Germany and in his struggle, he looked down. Quite possibly the biggest mistake of his long life. Germany’s Roman costume had gotten short in the front thanks to the hard-on he was publicly displaying.
Japan’s body turned red. Frantically he pushed a reluctant Germany in the direction of the washroom to get him to calm down. On the way, he took Germany’s almost empty mug and left both mugs on a chair.
"Germany-san! Get a hold of yourself." Japan pushed Germany one last time in the direction of the sinks. He fanned himself to get the flush and his heated skin to calm down.
"But Japan, he is a flirt and doesn’t care." Germany leaned his hands against the sink and finally realized why Japan was in such a panic. He smiled and stuck his hand under the thin garment covering his big body. He spaced his legs wider and threw his head back, imagining whose hand was touching him.
Japan watched in fascinated horror as Germany started to stroke himself. He almost ran up to the other nation to get him to stop and just as quickly changed his mind and ran out, his own modesty forgotten in his haste.
He found Italy still clutching his white flag with both hands. England threatening him with bodily harm if he didn’t move out of the way. Japan didn’t bother excusing himself or Italy and simply grabbed him and pulled him away from the other two.
"Come with me, Italy-kun! It’s an emergency!" He grabbed Italy’s white flag and flung it to the side.
"Veeee, Japan! Where are we going? My flaaaag!" Italy tried to pull away to get his flag back, but in this instance Japan won.
"Go in there and help Germany-san! Good luck!" He pushed Italy all the way inside and as fast as his bare feet could carry him, Japan ran back out. Once outside, he breathed a sigh of relief. His whole body was covered in sweat and he still felt flushed. All he needed now was to find something to block the entrance. He wasn’t sure what would happen to those two, but now he knew what his next doujinshi would be about. "Wait! No! That was going to be my plot for England-san and France-san! Now I’ll have to come up with a new plot for them."
A flat-chested Hungary walked up to Japan. "I saw that. You better share with me later." She winked and went back to harass Austria about something or other.
Italy’s brain picked up the words GERMANY and DANGER from Japan’s actions and not so much from what Japan had actually said. Now he cowered in the waiting area of the restroom. He could hear Germany’s distressed voice. Somebody must’ve been hurting him. He was afraid, though. He wished Japan hadn’t taken his precious white flag away. At least he could’ve surrendered to the enemy hurting Germany and helped his friend out.
He heard his name being called out and Italy rushed in ready to help his friend if necessary. Deep down he hoped Germany would help him.
"ITALIAN SPIIIIRIIIIT!!" Italy rushed in, eyes closed and fists flying. He expected the bad guy holding Germany down. Instead he found his friend in the throes of pleasuring himself. Italy went and confused the whole situation.
"GERMANY! WHAT’S WRONG?!"
"Italy..." Germany turned around to look at Italy. His still inebriated mind slowly grasped the situation.
"Italy, what..."
Italy looked around, checked the stalls, under the sink and he found nobody else. Only Germany and he were in the restroom.
"Veee, where’d the bastard go? I’ll defend you, Germany! Remember? I told you I’d help you if you got into trouble."
Germany looked Italy up and down. He was still wearing the sexy slave costume. The cuffs around his wrists made him look sexier. He rubbed his erection again and approached Italy.
"I’m the enemy, Italy. Ich möchte euch zu essen."
"Oh, Germany!" Italy giggled. "You can’t eat people or nations."
Germany grabbed Italy’s wrist and pulled him to his chest.
"Not like that. I mean eat you up because you’re so damn sexy."
"Sexy? I’m not a girl, Germany." Italy looked down and finally noticed Germany’s erection and his costume bunched around his waist.
"Italy..." Germany kissed Italy’s forehead and tilted his head up. "You do look sexy in that getup. Will you be my slave?"
"Germany, I can’t be your slave." Italy turned bright pink. He looked back up and smiled at Germany. "It would be wrong."
"Sometimes you can be a total twit," Germany closed his eyes, his hand still stroking his cock. "And there are times when your idiocy is adorable."
Italy may have been an idiot, but he wasn’t that stupid. He beamed at Germany, "Thank you!" He tiptoed and gave Germany a kiss on the cheek.
Germany smirked. Once they were both on the same wavelength, it was only a matter of making each other feel good.
Italy was standing in front of the floor length mirror in the restroom’s waiting area. His costume lay in the same corner where he’d cowered just a few minutes earlier. The cuffs around his neck, wrists and ankle were still on. Germany was similarly naked behind Italy and itching to touch his partner all over.
"Veee, Germany, can I put my clothes back on?"
"Not...yet. And leave your hands to your side."
Italy complied. His arms hung at his side. Germany continued to pleasure himself slowly. He didn’t want to finish the party so quickly.
He whispered in Italy’s ear, "Touch yourself."
Italy giggled, "You’re a pervert, Germany."
He whispered again, "And that’s why I want you to touch yourself." Germany looked in the mirror for Italy’s reaction and pinched his nipple. Italy meeped and blushed.
That was enough to get Italy to clumsily grab his flaccid member and begin to stroke it.
"Come on, Italy." His nipple got twisted again. "You can do better than that."
Germany let the nipple go and put his hand over Italy’s and guided him, "Just like that." He never stopped watching Italy’s reflection on the mirror. "You got it, Italy."
Italy raised his free arm and wrapped it around Germany’s neck for support. Germany liked what he was seeing. It wasn’t every day that he got to partake of this delectable fruit.
He still wasn’t entirely sure how they ended up there. All the blood had left his brain and was now being used in parts that needed it the most. The only thing guiding him was the desire to possess Italy. The image on the mirror confirmed that.
Italy started to react to Germany’s ministrations and his hips started to move of their own. He closed his eyes to let the sensation wash over him. He could feel his whole body flush from the sensations and from feeling Germany’s slick body pressed against his back.
Italy threw his head back when he felt Germany’s engorged cock slide up between his butt cheeks. The sensation felt so delicious and he wanted more of that.
Germany took the chance to nibble on Italy’s earlobe and whispered, "Open your thighs, Italy." He complied expecting to be doubled over. "Now close them," Germany swallowed, his voice rough from panting. "And let me make you feel good."
Again Italy complied and realized what Germany was trying to do. Germany’s slick cock was sliding in and out between his legs and rubbing his balls in the process.
Italy watched his own cock bounce to his body’s and Germany’s rhythm. Germany’s own cock peeked from between his thighs with each thrust.
Now Germany put both arms around Italy’s torso and continued to slide trying to reach his own climax. "You know what you have to do now." Germany whispered again.
They hadn’t done anything like this before. The sensations were totally different and Italy felt himself quickly reaching the point of no return. He came while he still had Germany’s spurting cock in between his legs.
Both were covered in sweat, their bodies twitching from the strong orgasm and breathing heavily.
Not ten minutes had passed since Japan had shoved Italy into the men’s restroom. He’d stood guard as close to the door as he could. The only one who seemed to know what was going was Hungary. He couldn’t figure out how she knew.
Japan continued to fidget while kneeling on the floor when suddenly a blond and disheveled head popped out of nowhere and called him over.
"Hmm, sorry to bother you, Japan. I need something to wrap Italy in," Germany coughed nervously, his head cleared from the liquor and his rampant hormones. "I’m taking him home."
Japan’s past training with Germany and Italy kicked in and he saluted. "Yes, sir! Right away!" He trotted off in the direction of the stage and there he found something big and black. It was probably spandex, but he wasn’t sure.
He brought it back to Germany, "I think this will fit Italy-kun." He bowed and offered it to Germany.
"Isn’t this America’s?"
Japan blushed, "I believe so, but he doesn’t need it. He’s a Roman slave now." He bowed again and walked away.
In a corner, away from prying eyes, Grandpa Roma was crying. His friend Germania had held him back when he saw what was happening to his precious Veneciano at Germany’s hands.
"I’ll never forgive him!"
"Idiot."