Japan bit his lip as he trailed his fingers up and down, teasing himself with a light, slow touch. He had slipped away from the others shortly after Italy began to snore, but he wasn't that far away and he didn't know how little noise it might take to wake Germany up. He swiped his thumb over the head of his prick, shivering despite the island's balmy weather at the thrill that ran up his spine.
He wondered what it would be like to feel Germany's hands on him instead of his own, those large, square hands with the faint glint of golden hair just dusting his knuckles. Soldier's calluses? No, not with those gloves, Japan decided. His palms and fingers would be smooth as they wrapped confidently around him. He squeezed himself faintly, unable to hold back a low moan.
"What are you doing?"
Japan reeled at the voice, low and predatory, issuing from the shadows in Germany's unmistakable accent. Japan hadn't even seen him move.
"N-n-nothing. Germany, please go back to sleep," he begged, mortified.
"It doesn't look like nothing to me," Germany murmured. "It looks like you're touching yourself. Don't let me interrupt."
"I - ah -"
"Keep going," Germany growled, making Japan buck involuntarily into his fist.
"Oh - yes -"
"It looks like you have your hand on your cock," Germany told him, and Japan caught his eyes, glinting blow-torch blue in the darkness. "Like you need it so badly can't help yourself, you had to sneak into the forest and push it through your own fist, trying to go slow but too weak to hold back, sliding up and down until your hand is racing, until you're squirming and panting for it, until your whole palm is slick with precome and your dick is so hard it aches and all you can think of is how much you need -"
"Germany," Japan gasped, not sure if he was pleading with his ally to stop or to keep going, pumping himself just as desperately as Germany said, sweat glistening on his arm, trickling down his neck and into the hollow of his throat.
"You always act so reserved," Germany scoffed, his high, perfect cheekbones as sharp as knives. "But really you're just a dirty little pervert inside, aren't you. I saw you watching us, today. Watching Italy run out of the waves, the water dripping down his body, his clothes clinging to him like skin. The way your eyes followed me the minute I took my jacket off, staring at my chest, at my arms, storing up all the images for your fantasies, for your dirty little jack-off session the minute you could get awau - what else where you looking at, you horny slut? Tell me."
Japan rushed his hand up and down, breathless, helpless, utterly terrified and intoxicated and hotter than he'd ever been in his life -
"Your - your nipples," he admitted through his harsh breathing, unable to do anything but obey. "I could see them though the - the thin cotton of your shirt - and your...ah...your behind, so tight in your pants, the sweat gleaming on your clavicle, I wanted to taste it -"
Once he starts talking, it's suddenly easy, like water released from a dam, rolling out of him. Fuck, he's so close, he needs to come, needs it so badly, he needs Germany to -
"Please," he all but howls, and his hand is a blur between his legs. "Please, Germany, I can't - I have to - "
"Come," Germany finishes for him, orders him, Japan doesn't know and doesn't care and hot white light is spiking through him, making him delirious with pleasure as he climaxes, groaning something incomprehensible that could have been Germany's name.
"That most definitely wasn't nothing," Germany reaffirmed smugly, as Japan struggled to get his breath back. "Looked like onanieren, to me."
Before Japan could respond, Germany vanished back into the shadows as swiftly and silently as he had emerged from them. Japan turned the word over in his mouth, trying the sound and taste of it.
He wondered what it would be like to feel Germany's hands on him instead of his own, those large, square hands with the faint glint of golden hair just dusting his knuckles. Soldier's calluses? No, not with those gloves, Japan decided. His palms and fingers would be smooth as they wrapped confidently around him. He squeezed himself faintly, unable to hold back a low moan.
"What are you doing?"
Japan reeled at the voice, low and predatory, issuing from the shadows in Germany's unmistakable accent. Japan hadn't even seen him move.
"N-n-nothing. Germany, please go back to sleep," he begged, mortified.
"It doesn't look like nothing to me," Germany murmured. "It looks like you're touching yourself. Don't let me interrupt."
"I - ah -"
"Keep going," Germany growled, making Japan buck involuntarily into his fist.
"Oh - yes -"
"It looks like you have your hand on your cock," Germany told him, and Japan caught his eyes, glinting blow-torch blue in the darkness. "Like you need it so badly can't help yourself, you had to sneak into the forest and push it through your own fist, trying to go slow but too weak to hold back, sliding up and down until your hand is racing, until you're squirming and panting for it, until your whole palm is slick with precome and your dick is so hard it aches and all you can think of is how much you need -"
"Germany," Japan gasped, not sure if he was pleading with his ally to stop or to keep going, pumping himself just as desperately as Germany said, sweat glistening on his arm, trickling down his neck and into the hollow of his throat.
"You always act so reserved," Germany scoffed, his high, perfect cheekbones as sharp as knives. "But really you're just a dirty little pervert inside, aren't you. I saw you watching us, today. Watching Italy run out of the waves, the water dripping down his body, his clothes clinging to him like skin. The way your eyes followed me the minute I took my jacket off, staring at my chest, at my arms, storing up all the images for your fantasies, for your dirty little jack-off session the minute you could get awau - what else where you looking at, you horny slut? Tell me."
Japan rushed his hand up and down, breathless, helpless, utterly terrified and intoxicated and hotter than he'd ever been in his life -
"Your - your nipples," he admitted through his harsh breathing, unable to do anything but obey. "I could see them though the - the thin cotton of your shirt - and your...ah...your behind, so tight in your pants, the sweat gleaming on your clavicle, I wanted to taste it -"
Once he starts talking, it's suddenly easy, like water released from a dam, rolling out of him. Fuck, he's so close, he needs to come, needs it so badly, he needs Germany to -
"Please," he all but howls, and his hand is a blur between his legs. "Please, Germany, I can't - I have to - "
"Come," Germany finishes for him, orders him, Japan doesn't know and doesn't care and hot white light is spiking through him, making him delirious with pleasure as he climaxes, groaning something incomprehensible that could have been Germany's name.
"That most definitely wasn't nothing," Germany reaffirmed smugly, as Japan struggled to get his breath back. "Looked like onanieren, to me."
Before Japan could respond, Germany vanished back into the shadows as swiftly and silently as he had emerged from them. Japan turned the word over in his mouth, trying the sound and taste of it.
He rather liked it.
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