They say that in heaven the mechanics are German. Feliciano, who has been sleeping with the personification of Germany for the past six months, is inclined to believe that. Every movement the man makes is fluid, graceful, but with a practicality that leaves nothing wasted. It’s like watching a car that that slides smoothly through the gears, hugs the corners, and purrs when you accelerate. Feliciano thinks it’s an especially appropriate metaphor right now considering Ludwig has just picked him and carried him up the stairs to his bed, letting him feel the shifting muscles of those strong arms and the steady thump of Ludwig’s heart.
Except when he breathes in Ludwig’s ear the bigger man makes a sound that could be a growl and pins Feliciano to the bed, and he thinks that maybe it be better to describe Ludwig as some sort of predator animal. Something like the dogs the man loves so much, Feliciano decides, although he doesn’t know the breeds enough to say which one. One built for strength and work, bred for loyalty and intelligence. And definitely a dog instead of a wolf, despite the way Ludwig bares his teeth in a snarl when he’s angry and likes to bite Feliciano’s skin before laving at the marks with his tongue. A wolf doesn’t follow the orders of a master or allow himself to be petted till his hair is all messed up and falling in his face.
And then Ludwig steps back so he can strip, and Feliciano-already naked from his earlier siesta-props himself up on his elbows to watch. The painter in him always loves this part, for his lover is beautifully formed in his strength. Feliciano sees shoulder muscles built for supporting a country that connect to strong arms that end in calloused, capable hands. A sculpted chest narrowing to hips that curve into a firm ass before becoming legs thick with muscles from hard work. He watches and wishes he had ability as a sculptor as well as with paints, because while a painting might better capture the scars that slash through pale skin or the dusting of freckles across Ludwig’s broad back or the trail of blonde hair that bisects firm abs, it might not be the right medium to show off the symmetry of the man’s form.
Ludwig crawls into bed with him, pulling him close, and Feliciano thinks that the problem with both ideas is that they fail to capture the really important part of this man. Other men are physically strong and other men are beautiful and many men are both, but not many are all of that and this solid and warm. Not many men could pick up a rifle or swing a fist with such skill and then feel confident enough in their manliness to go home and bake a cake. And it takes so much inner strength to not only acknowledge the kind of mistakes Ludwig has made but to move forward from them to become what he is today. And that, Feliciano thinks, is what makes Ludwig amazing.
And then Ludwig bites down his neck, and Feliciano stops thinking and just appreciates.
Writer!Anon, I'm not OP, but damn I enjoyed this piece of work. I think you really captured the way Feliciano thinks and then turned that on Ludwig, and God damn, you've shown that such a combination makes something simply beautiful.
not OP but I loved this
anonymous
April 26 2010, 00:23:04 UTC
anon, this was gorgeous. utterly gorgeous.
the way italy thinks, poetic and rational, and the pace of the shot, and everything... it's just beautiful, anon. thank you for sharing this piece of art. I appreciate, too.
Re: Germany/N.Italy - Italy admires how strong Germany is
anonymous
April 26 2010, 17:13:49 UTC
This is the most romantic sex I've read in a while and that's saying something. The way you managed to render the depth of Italy's feelings in such a short piece is amazing, and none of the images feels forced, all it's just so natural and simple and Italylike... Thanks a lot, anon. ♥
dio mio...
anonymous
December 16 2012, 05:19:00 UTC
My lord...This was perfect. I...ugh there is a lack of words to describe my total and utter admiration of how artistically written this was. In short, it was bellissimo <3
Germany/N.Italy - Italy admires how strong Germany is - during sex of course.
They say that in heaven the mechanics are German. Feliciano, who has been sleeping with the personification of Germany for the past six months, is inclined to believe that. Every movement the man makes is fluid, graceful, but with a practicality that leaves nothing wasted. It’s like watching a car that that slides smoothly through the gears, hugs the corners, and purrs when you accelerate. Feliciano thinks it’s an especially appropriate metaphor right now considering Ludwig has just picked him and carried him up the stairs to his bed, letting him feel the shifting muscles of those strong arms and the steady thump of Ludwig’s heart.
Except when he breathes in Ludwig’s ear the bigger man makes a sound that could be a growl and pins Feliciano to the bed, and he thinks that maybe it be better to describe Ludwig as some sort of predator animal. Something like the dogs the man loves so much, Feliciano decides, although he doesn’t know the breeds enough to say which one. One built for strength and work, bred for loyalty and intelligence. And definitely a dog instead of a wolf, despite the way Ludwig bares his teeth in a snarl when he’s angry and likes to bite Feliciano’s skin before laving at the marks with his tongue. A wolf doesn’t follow the orders of a master or allow himself to be petted till his hair is all messed up and falling in his face.
And then Ludwig steps back so he can strip, and Feliciano-already naked from his earlier siesta-props himself up on his elbows to watch. The painter in him always loves this part, for his lover is beautifully formed in his strength. Feliciano sees shoulder muscles built for supporting a country that connect to strong arms that end in calloused, capable hands. A sculpted chest narrowing to hips that curve into a firm ass before becoming legs thick with muscles from hard work. He watches and wishes he had ability as a sculptor as well as with paints, because while a painting might better capture the scars that slash through pale skin or the dusting of freckles across Ludwig’s broad back or the trail of blonde hair that bisects firm abs, it might not be the right medium to show off the symmetry of the man’s form.
Ludwig crawls into bed with him, pulling him close, and Feliciano thinks that the problem with both ideas is that they fail to capture the really important part of this man. Other men are physically strong and other men are beautiful and many men are both, but not many are all of that and this solid and warm. Not many men could pick up a rifle or swing a fist with such skill and then feel confident enough in their manliness to go home and bake a cake. And it takes so much inner strength to not only acknowledge the kind of mistakes Ludwig has made but to move forward from them to become what he is today. And that, Feliciano thinks, is what makes Ludwig amazing.
And then Ludwig bites down his neck, and Feliciano stops thinking and just appreciates.
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In short, you rock.
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the way italy thinks, poetic and rational, and the pace of the shot, and everything... it's just beautiful, anon. thank you for sharing this piece of art. I appreciate, too.
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This was amazing. Plain and simple. Utterly amazing. I can't describe it any other way.
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You have seen in to my mind and put my thoughts into words
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