Past-Part Fills Part 7
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Past-Part Fills Part Seven
Fills from past parts can go here!
Fills from the current part (part 22) MUST go in that part's post until it is full.
Link to the original request (and if an ongoing fill, any previous chapters/sections).
Don't forget to link your new fill at the fill ( Read more... )
He wasn't going to take that lying down -- er, metaphorically lying down, because he was very firmly vertical at this point, and hot damn did Turkey's warm breath feel good on his throat when he laughed like that -- Australia hooked one leg around Turkey's knee and tugged sharply. Turkey stumbled even closer into him, pressing their bodies together from shoulders to knees, and then laughed into his open mouth. "Eager, are we?" he murmured, rubbing Australia's wrist again.
"You know it," Australia panted. Turkey's thigh pressed between his legs, and Australia bucked up and shuddered against it. Turkey bit the edge of his jaw, and he might not be able to feel pain, but the sensation of his lover's teeth against his skin was -- okay, maybe they could just go at it here and sod the bedroom, he liked this hallway just fine...
"Weren'tcha," he gasped out as his hips jerked against Turkey's thigh, "gonna show me something new?"
"Mm --" Turkey kissed him again, their teeth clashing together, his tongue licking hungrily into Australia's mouth -- then he drew back with a smile, his body leaning away, and Australia groaned in disappointment. "So I was."
He stepped away. The sodding bastard stepped away with an evil smirk, taking all that delicious warmth with him, and headed for the bedroom. Australia growled and went after him.
Turkey must have been burning something, because the bedroom was filled with a spicy, smoky smell. Still, despite the way his underwear was rubbing against his dick, he did take a moment to look at the bed. Turkey was sitting on it (a definite plus), but Australia’s attention was reserved for the neat coil of rope and the riding crop set out on the bedside table. (Hungary had to be psychic. They’d practiced with one of those!) He felt his heartbeat pick up with anticipation just from looking at it. (Definitely anticipation. Not nervousness. One did not survive England’s cooking by being a nervous actor.)
Riding crop and rope. Because his lover was going to tie him to the bed (hey, look, clean sheets, how nice) and hit him, and suddenly this seemed so much more erotic now that they were actually about to do it.
He gave Turkey a grin. “So, what now?”
Turkey rolled his eyes. “You could start by being more naked. Or…” Australia looked down to open the buttons, which meant taking his eyes off Turkey. There was a jangle of springs, a booted thump, and Turkey’s hands wrapped around his wrists. “Second thoughts,” Turkey murmured. He seized Australia’s lapels and ripped.
It was probably too late to start wondering if the marks on his back from the ‘practice session’ had faded.
Australia blinked at the remnants of his shirt in Turkey’s hands, and would have returned the favour if Turkey hadn’t somehow been wearing a jacket in the middle of summer. Instead, he got his belt and jeans open in record time, and then had to stop to take off his boots, because of-bloody-course neither of them had bothered to take their boots off at the door. He kicked them off, not caring where they landed, and dropped onto the bed while Turkey dropped his jacket on top of his own boots.
The bed dipped next to him under his lover’s weight, and then Turkey grabbed Australia’s shoulder with that sudden swiftness he rarely used and pushed, and Australia felt Turkey’s chest press against his back and Turkey’s body weight bore him down into the mattress. Australia went eagerly. Turkey was heavy, big and solid with muscle, and after a year of being in this bed with his lover on top of him the weight went straight to Australia’s cock. He jerked his hips against the mattress, already impatient.
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