This is what endures, no matter what tongue we speak 4/?
anonymous
May 26 2009, 21:36:54 UTC
Now that Prussia has committed himself to this allegiance, he appears to have found plenty of enthusiasm for their method of sealing the vow. He also clearly has ideas of his own, for he pulls Spain closer and gropes him roughly.
"We can't leave Spain alone, he's cute!" Prussia says. Said nation feels a flattered smile spread on his face. If only certain Mediterraneans thoughts so too. "Besides, I've heard about you!"
France preens, there is no other word for it. He stands on his knees, strokes his cock proudly and, though God knows where it came from, has produced a rose to hold between his teeth.
"My reputation," he murmurs seductively, "precedes me, I see."
"Prussia," Spain says and takes Prussia's sex in his own hands, stroking it carefully and noting the slight hitch in the blond man's breath. "A little softer, if you please."
Prussia jumps and the near frantic grip around Spain's manhood eases slightly. He finds himself relaxing as Prussia finds a pleasurable rhythm and asks, before France comes out from his sparkling daydreams, "What, precisely, have you heard about France?"
"That he's really selfish is bed and only has so many lovers because nobody can stand him twi- Oofh!"
France is showing his teeth, his hands have wrapped themselves around Prussia's throat and when he speaks, that silly rose looks to have sharp thorns indeed. "Unless you want a whole bouquet of these stuck up somewhere unpleasant," he says, a mad gleam in his eyes, "you'd better take that back, you little prick."
Prussia gags and gasps beneath the Frenchman. The way his fingers tear at the sheets makes Spain very happy that France's attack made him lose his grip on a sensitive part of the Iberian peninsula.
"P- prove yourself better then." Prussia should really not be grinning like that, Spain thinks, unless he likes not breathing in bed? He has heard that there are those who enjoy such things after all.
"Oh, I will," France promises. "In fact," he lets go of the pale throat, leaving behind a perfect set of finger-shaped marks like a depraved collar, "I do believe you were first, chéri?"
The grin on Prussia's face is half glee, half horniness and all self-assurance. "Eager to go, eh?"
"Very," the other nation nods smaller, "after all, the faster you're done..."
"The faster your ass is his," Spain helpfully adds and earns a roll of the eyes from France. So forgive him for disturbing the dramatic tension, but he did drink all that wine and he wouldn't mind getting finished sometime tonight. Besides, with the way this is going, his two alliance mates may just end up in a fist-fight before they even get that far.
It almost appears as if Prussia is sharing his thoughts, for he scoots to the edge of the bed and spreads his legs. "Come on then, France," he says and gestures at himself. "At least this way, we won't have to try and hold a conversation..."
(it's like the middle of the night here, so sorry if there are any hugeass spelling errors or so!)
Re: This is what endures, no matter what tongue we speak 4/?
anonymous
May 27 2009, 00:54:51 UTC
As the requester for a Bad Friends Trio request a few pages back, I'm so excited to finally see something for these three. They're so ignored in the meme, I think ;_;
Re: This is what endures, no matter what tongue we speak 4/?
anonymous
May 27 2009, 01:52:04 UTC
Shit, this is awesome. I agree, we need more bad trio fics, especially when they're this well-written. You've got me hooked, authornon! You captured each of their personalities fantastically, and the dialogues are perfect...they all complement one another so well. Love the interaction~!
So yeah, this is brilliant so far, authornon. I can't wait for more! (Hope my F5 key doesn't break dammit).
And this made me chuckle:
"You just have a much prettier ass than the old man!"
BAHAHAHAH sorry France, you can't compete with DAT ASS.
Re: This is what endures, no matter what tongue we speak 4/?
anonymous
May 27 2009, 16:13:22 UTC
This is wonderful! They're in character and absolutely a delight to read, arguing and affectionate and just plain fascinating to watch as they interact. And the build up of the sex is just delicious.
This is what endures, no matter what tongue we speak 5/?
anonymous
May 27 2009, 21:16:15 UTC
This was a great idea, Prussia thinks, while France deep-throats him skilfully while the handsome Spaniard murmurs dirty things in his ear and thrusts into Prussia's hand. Why hadn't he thought of sealing allegiances like this before?
"Right there," Spain murmurs and nibbles at his ear. "Show me how well you handle a sword, my friend."
France takes a break from trying to suck Prussia's brain out through his cock to laugh and sputter. "You call that a sword? Alas, my dear," he says and flicks his tongue against the tip of Prussia's sex, "it barely qualifies as a dagger."
If someone said that to Prussia - not that they would even think it, hah, because he's already checked and realized that he is definitely the owner of the most awesome manhood tonight - he would invade them, castrate them and chase them all the way to Russia. Spain though, only chuckles, before he presses France's head closer so that the kneeling nation is forced to swallow Prussia's glory again.
"I think we both know that it is enough to make you howl and beg for mercy," he says and leans closer to Prussia, all lovely tanned skin and taut muscles that beg to be touched. "Don't mind him," Spain says, "if you take offence at all the silly things he says, you will never get anything done. Besides, he knows how to make up for it, hmm?"
"Oh yeah," Prussia groans.
The Frenchman is very good at this, he is happy to admit that. Those beautiful locks shine oh-so-prettily when he moves between Prussia's legs and worships his cock. It is easy to believe he really was created to be the nation of love. In fact, if he keeps this up... Prussia moans and thrusts helplessly when France hums and does something weird with his tongue, which makes his balls feel so goddamn tight, ahh, he wants to fuck that babbling mouth raw!
A bronzed hand pulls the blond back just before Prussia loses himself inside France and he feels Spain pinch him sharply in the side.
"Don't forget," the cheeky devil murmurs, "what we are going to do."
Spain is sitting so close to him that he feels all but moulded to Prussia's side. He smells far too good for a guy; not all cloying perfume, like France and pussy Austria, but of fresh sea-salt with a hint of something tangy-sweet. In time, Prussia will learn that is the scent of orange groves in bloom, but right now it is just the smell of Spain and it only pushes him farther towards the edge.
Spain's cock, which while not as impressive as Prussia's (of course not) is still a very nice and solid feel in Prussia's hand. And the arm around his waist, solid and warm, is a very nice presence, when he's not being pinched by it. But... Prussia isn't used to being held close and he wonders, for a fleeting moment, how it would be like to have a more permanent friendship with a guy like Spain.
Though in that moment, the other nation leans close and bites his lip, while the hand that was first stroking sweetly and then pinching in warning, digs into his side with surprisingly sharp nails.
"Don't drift off, Prussia," France warns him, though his words are muffled as he is speaking against a mouthful off cock. "Spain hates to be ignored!"
"More sucking, less talking," Prussia threatens, although it comes out as more of a pleading gasp. He turns towards the brunette and realizes that there is, in this moment, nothing he would like to do as much as kiss that fucking gorgeous mouth and make Spain go all weak and wobbly inside - much, in fact, like what France is making him feel right now.
Re: This is what endures, no matter what tongue we speak 5/?
anonymous
May 28 2009, 06:28:53 UTC
sjhjkhfkjdssjkhhdkjs. Anon, this is brilliant. This meme needs more bad touch trio so I was really pleased to see this. ♥ I love their banter between all the sexy times. Just raaaaowr. Love it. Can't wait to see you finish it.
This is what endures, no matter what tongue we speak 6/?
anonymous
May 31 2009, 18:59:33 UTC
"This is better," Spain moans against his face a little while later. They have fallen backwards on the bed some little time ago. France is still busy between their legs, feels as if he's trying to disprove the rumours of his selfishness with his tongue as only ally.
France sucks Prussia's cock, moans and takes him in deeply, then moves over a bit to tease Spain's hardness, leaving him shivering at the contrast between the cool air and France's skilled fingers.
"Mmhyeah," Prussia agrees. He feels France's lips kiss his own sex goodbye for a moment, before the wicked mouth nuzzles against his hand a moment later, the one that is wrapped around Spain's cock.
The two nations on the bed are lying so close together, sweaty and on the edge, and Spain keeps playing with his nipples - soft, teasing, then a sharp pinch that makes Prussia twitch all over. He finds that his hands can't get enough of stroking the slim shape, nor can his mouth stop kissing and tasting the smiling lips.
"Mes chéris," France mumbles, "I think it is time we finish this part and move on, don't you agree?"
"What, getting tired already?" Prussia jeers and pulls a little at France's hair. Although his cock twitches sharply at the suggestion of actually getting to finish, he just can't leave the blond alone. Something about his effortless elegance, the way he always acts so damned superior even when he is making a fool of himself, it pushes all the wrong buttons in Prussia. "And here I thought your cocksucking skills were legendary for a reason!"
Perhaps, he reflects as Spain yelps when annoyance makes France's teeth slip out of control for a moment, he should be a little bit nicer to the man who will fuck him soon... Naah. This is more fun and if the old frog can't take it? He'll just have to show him that while you may be allowed to fuck Prussia, you'll regret for ever if you try to fuck him over.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Prussia," France murmurs, but obediently swallows him down again. He's got some fucking amazing throat-muscle control going on there, Prussia has to admit.
"I know," he admits against Spain's throat, "tha- that's how I like to get off."
"Madman," Spain tells him and his hand is beneath- oh god, his hand is playing with Prussia's balls and his breath is so hot against Prussia's ears. "You know how I get off?"
"Nh?"
"Thinking," Spain pauses to bring Prussia's currently unoccupied hand on himself and moans nicely when he is squeezed, "thinking about... my dear little Italian. Ahh, how he'll look soon."
"What's gonna happen soon?" Prussia asks and hears something that sounds suspiciously like a muffled snigger from France.
"I'll take," Spain moans and thrusts against his hand, "his brother too!" He shivers and claws at Prussia, eyes closed and face twisted in a lustful grin. "My Italies... I'll fuck them both, an' watch them fuck each other and-"
"You sick bastard," Prussia says, but there is a hint of admiration in his voice. Admiration and envy, because while he's only ever met North Italy, the little guy is damn cute. To have both of them...
Spain doesn't listen, but keeps thrusting against him. His throat works frantically as the Italian brothers in his mind do something to each other that would probably get the whole peninsula excommunicated if anyone else saw.
It takes some effort, but Prussia manages to sit up and drag the frantic Spaniard with him and goddamn but this sight is turning him on something fierce!
"B- been waiting for this for hundreds of fucking years!" Spain gasps and suddenly Prussia knows that it's time.
This is what endures, no matter what tongue we speak 7/?
anonymous
May 31 2009, 19:00:27 UTC
He moves his hand faster and when Spain sobs and pulls at his hair, he whispers against his ear. God, this is great! Prussia drinks in the sight of the lazy mask of laughter being ripped away, until only pure desire remains, and it's almost as good as coming on that uppity bugger France's face will be.
"You're gonna watch them like this, aren't you, Spain?" he murmurs, unable to keep a slight tremble from his voice. "Watch them suck each other, your Italy on his knees before his brother and they're both blushing and moaning, but Veneziano'll cry too and little, uh-" Shit. What the fuck was his name again?
"Romano," France says quickly before pressing their cocks together so he can taste them both.
"Right, him." Prussia flounders for a minute, but lucky for him, Spain is a bit busy almost-but-not-quite-yet coming and doesn't notice his little lapse.
"Veneziano'll fuck his brother's mouth, right? He'll take Romano by that damn hair-sproing," here Spain practically spasms with pleasure, "and pull him closer an' call him brother. Please suck me, oh, please, let me fuck you big brother," and if Prussia is imagining a different, much paler young nation right now? Well, that's his little secret and nobody has to know.
"Romano wants him so much, too, doesn't he?" he asks teasingly.
"Yes," Spain is almost sobbing, "god, yes, want them."
"Mmhm, wants to taste his brother, but he's such ah, good little catholic boy an' he's crying and all guilty but he can't help it. Romano," and damn him for an Austrian if the mere mention of that name doesn't make Spain moan even deeper, "your Romano's begging you to take him at the same time, horny little slut, he wants to taste his brother too and oh please Spain, fuck me, fuck me harder!"
That does it and Prussia grins in breathless triumph when Spain comes beautifully, spilling himself on his cock and all over France's open mouth and greedy lips.
Okay, he's been generous; now it's the awesome Prussia's turn. About bloody time!
As soon as Spain has stopped thrashing with pleasure, he releases the limp form and buries his fingers in France's locks. He won't need much now, not after that little show... So, his breath hitches when strong hands grips his thighs and he pushed France's head down on himself, all the way in, just take me baby.
"Hhn." Prussia is groaning, looking down at the head in his lap as he fucks that willing mouth faster and faster, feeling his balls grow heavy and needy. "Gonna have them like this, yeah," he can't stop it, the words spill from his mouth with everything he needs and wants, "first m- my Hungary and then him!" His eyes close as he imagines a darker head, glasses lying broken on the floor as his blood and tears mingle in the humiliation of defeat!
"Fucking bitch!" And Prussia is coming, he yanks France's head back at the very last moment, hardly sees how the other gasps for air. He watches his own come splatter on the face, mesmerised, imagines that the wetness on those flushed cheeks is tears which he couldn't hold back any longer.
The control he could never shake before will lie crushed before him, broken like Austria's armies, broken like Austria himself will be once Prussia is done with the sexy little bastard.
When Prussia comes to full sense again, the sight of the nation before him, France, traps him in a new kind of dream all over again.
Because far from crying and protesting, the blond is smearing the come around, licking his fingers as if he knows nothing better than to luxuriate in this degradation. The blue eyes open slightly and France rubs his face against Prussia's suddenly lax hands.
"Finished?" he says and winks. His lips are shiny and swollen when they close around one of Prussia's fingers, then France is jerking himself off, proudly spreading his legs and growing rapidly harder.
This is what endures, no matter what tongue we speak 8/?
anonymous
May 31 2009, 19:01:18 UTC
"I," France says, his tongue twisting around Prussia's fingers between each word, "I don't have to imagine, hah, anyone who's not here! Non, non, you two are just enough on your own..." His laugh is queer and a drop of come is sliding down his nose, his hair is a mess and none of it seems to bother him in the least.
"Look at me!" His voice snaps Prussia out of his softening, sated state, until his gaze is fastened on the hands moving over France's cock faster and faster. Trapped and confused, unwillingly aroused, the red eyes take in France's face - so recently soiled with pleasure and so obviously adoring the whole situation.
There is nothing beautiful about him, nothing cute to endear this horny Frenchman to Prussia. Except his naked lust itself, the way he has no shred of shame and the way his face shines up when Spain leans against Prussia to watch too. Together they look in enraptured silence, as France performs before them, as his eyes roll back and his hips jerk and he comes, comes before them but all for himself.
Afterwards, they scoot together on the bed and there's more naked flesh there than Prussia really knows what to do with, so he just pats Spain's ass a little and tries to relax. It would be easier if the room wasn't so stifling warm and if only his company tonight was less... just a bit less, of everything.
"Aren't you, uh, going to clean that off?" he asks when France uncorks a bottle of wine with his teeth and drinks straight from the bottle, adding red stains to the flecks already marking his face.
France shrugs. "You offering?"
"Urgh, no!"
"Oh, fuck you too, you little prude," France says and holds the bottle out in invitation. "Another drink?"
"I'll clean you off," Spain offers softly, "soon. But not," he raises a finger in warning, "with anything but a towel!"
"Tch. I'm surrounded by repressed Catholics." He doesn't sound very put out, though, and pulls Spain close enough to hold the bottle to his lips. They share the drink in silence but there is a surprisingly fond smile on France's face when he the dark-haired nation begins to snore lightly.
"So, uh, if he's asleep I guess we're done?" Prussia didn't really see a need to point out that, actually, he's Protestant these days, but the silence is growing weird and he's never been good at keeping his mouth shut. His new boss is trying to do something about that, with little luck so far.
"Oh, don't worry about Spain." France's voice is a little bit too sharp and his smile falls just on the wrong side of friendly to be entirely comfortable. "I know this lazy old bum, he'll be fine if we give him a few minutes. You, on the other hand?" This time, the word comfortable doesn't even come close to the hungry grin adorning France's face. "You are so fucked, mon petit amour...."
He wishes he could tell everyone that he smiled both death and deranged Frenchmen in the face with equal bravado, but it is difficult to quench the shakiness that has overcome him. And, much as it galls to admit, Prussia begins to suspect that he's a bit out of his depth here. For a fleeting moment, he wishes that he had listened just a little more to Friedrich.
"We can't leave Spain alone, he's cute!" Prussia says. Said nation feels a flattered smile spread on his face. If only certain Mediterraneans thoughts so too.
"Besides, I've heard about you!"
France preens, there is no other word for it. He stands on his knees, strokes his cock proudly and, though God knows where it came from, has produced a rose to hold between his teeth.
"My reputation," he murmurs seductively, "precedes me, I see."
"Prussia," Spain says and takes Prussia's sex in his own hands, stroking it carefully and noting the slight hitch in the blond man's breath. "A little softer, if you please."
Prussia jumps and the near frantic grip around Spain's manhood eases slightly. He finds himself relaxing as Prussia finds a pleasurable rhythm and asks, before France comes out from his sparkling daydreams,
"What, precisely, have you heard about France?"
"That he's really selfish is bed and only has so many lovers because nobody can stand him twi- Oofh!"
France is showing his teeth, his hands have wrapped themselves around Prussia's throat and when he speaks, that silly rose looks to have sharp thorns indeed.
"Unless you want a whole bouquet of these stuck up somewhere unpleasant," he says, a mad gleam in his eyes, "you'd better take that back, you little prick."
Prussia gags and gasps beneath the Frenchman. The way his fingers tear at the sheets makes Spain very happy that France's attack made him lose his grip on a sensitive part of the Iberian peninsula.
"P- prove yourself better then." Prussia should really not be grinning like that, Spain thinks, unless he likes not breathing in bed? He has heard that there are those who enjoy such things after all.
"Oh, I will," France promises. "In fact," he lets go of the pale throat, leaving behind a perfect set of finger-shaped marks like a depraved collar, "I do believe you were first, chéri?"
The grin on Prussia's face is half glee, half horniness and all self-assurance. "Eager to go, eh?"
"Very," the other nation nods smaller, "after all, the faster you're done..."
"The faster your ass is his," Spain helpfully adds and earns a roll of the eyes from France. So forgive him for disturbing the dramatic tension, but he did drink all that wine and he wouldn't mind getting finished sometime tonight. Besides, with the way this is going, his two alliance mates may just end up in a fist-fight before they even get that far.
It almost appears as if Prussia is sharing his thoughts, for he scoots to the edge of the bed and spreads his legs. "Come on then, France," he says and gestures at himself. "At least this way, we won't have to try and hold a conversation..."
(it's like the middle of the night here, so sorry if there are any hugeass spelling errors or so!)
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I can't wait to read more <3
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So yeah, this is brilliant so far, authornon. I can't wait for more! (Hope my F5 key doesn't break dammit).
And this made me chuckle:
"You just have a much prettier ass than the old man!"
BAHAHAHAH sorry France, you can't compete with DAT ASS.
Should probably mention I'm not OP by the way
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Can't wait for more!
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OP LOVES YOU
CONTINUE PLEASE
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"Right there," Spain murmurs and nibbles at his ear. "Show me how well you handle a sword, my friend."
France takes a break from trying to suck Prussia's brain out through his cock to laugh and sputter. "You call that a sword? Alas, my dear," he says and flicks his tongue against the tip of Prussia's sex, "it barely qualifies as a dagger."
If someone said that to Prussia - not that they would even think it, hah, because he's already checked and realized that he is definitely the owner of the most awesome manhood tonight - he would invade them, castrate them and chase them all the way to Russia. Spain though, only chuckles, before he presses France's head closer so that the kneeling nation is forced to swallow Prussia's glory again.
"I think we both know that it is enough to make you howl and beg for mercy," he says and leans closer to Prussia, all lovely tanned skin and taut muscles that beg to be touched.
"Don't mind him," Spain says, "if you take offence at all the silly things he says, you will never get anything done. Besides, he knows how to make up for it, hmm?"
"Oh yeah," Prussia groans.
The Frenchman is very good at this, he is happy to admit that. Those beautiful locks shine oh-so-prettily when he moves between Prussia's legs and worships his cock. It is easy to believe he really was created to be the nation of love. In fact, if he keeps this up...
Prussia moans and thrusts helplessly when France hums and does something weird with his tongue, which makes his balls feel so goddamn tight, ahh, he wants to fuck that babbling mouth raw!
A bronzed hand pulls the blond back just before Prussia loses himself inside France and he feels Spain pinch him sharply in the side.
"Don't forget," the cheeky devil murmurs, "what we are going to do."
Spain is sitting so close to him that he feels all but moulded to Prussia's side. He smells far too good for a guy; not all cloying perfume, like France and pussy Austria, but of fresh sea-salt with a hint of something tangy-sweet. In time, Prussia will learn that is the scent of orange groves in bloom, but right now it is just the smell of Spain and it only pushes him farther towards the edge.
Spain's cock, which while not as impressive as Prussia's (of course not) is still a very nice and solid feel in Prussia's hand. And the arm around his waist, solid and warm, is a very nice presence, when he's not being pinched by it. But... Prussia isn't used to being held close and he wonders, for a fleeting moment, how it would be like to have a more permanent friendship with a guy like Spain.
Though in that moment, the other nation leans close and bites his lip, while the hand that was first stroking sweetly and then pinching in warning, digs into his side with surprisingly sharp nails.
"Don't drift off, Prussia," France warns him, though his words are muffled as he is speaking against a mouthful off cock. "Spain hates to be ignored!"
"More sucking, less talking," Prussia threatens, although it comes out as more of a pleading gasp. He turns towards the brunette and realizes that there is, in this moment, nothing he would like to do as much as kiss that fucking gorgeous mouth and make Spain go all weak and wobbly inside - much, in fact, like what France is making him feel right now.
(just a short piece tonight, so tired zzznore)
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France sucks Prussia's cock, moans and takes him in deeply, then moves over a bit to tease Spain's hardness, leaving him shivering at the contrast between the cool air and France's skilled fingers.
"Mmhyeah," Prussia agrees. He feels France's lips kiss his own sex goodbye for a moment, before the wicked mouth nuzzles against his hand a moment later, the one that is wrapped around Spain's cock.
The two nations on the bed are lying so close together, sweaty and on the edge, and Spain keeps playing with his nipples - soft, teasing, then a sharp pinch that makes Prussia twitch all over. He finds that his hands can't get enough of stroking the slim shape, nor can his mouth stop kissing and tasting the smiling lips.
"Mes chéris," France mumbles, "I think it is time we finish this part and move on, don't you agree?"
"What, getting tired already?" Prussia jeers and pulls a little at France's hair. Although his cock twitches sharply at the suggestion of actually getting to finish, he just can't leave the blond alone. Something about his effortless elegance, the way he always acts so damned superior even when he is making a fool of himself, it pushes all the wrong buttons in Prussia.
"And here I thought your cocksucking skills were legendary for a reason!"
Perhaps, he reflects as Spain yelps when annoyance makes France's teeth slip out of control for a moment, he should be a little bit nicer to the man who will fuck him soon... Naah.
This is more fun and if the old frog can't take it? He'll just have to show him that while you may be allowed to fuck Prussia, you'll regret for ever if you try to fuck him over.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Prussia," France murmurs, but obediently swallows him down again. He's got some fucking amazing throat-muscle control going on there, Prussia has to admit.
"I know," he admits against Spain's throat, "tha- that's how I like to get off."
"Madman," Spain tells him and his hand is beneath- oh god, his hand is playing with Prussia's balls and his breath is so hot against Prussia's ears. "You know how I get off?"
"Nh?"
"Thinking," Spain pauses to bring Prussia's currently unoccupied hand on himself and moans nicely when he is squeezed, "thinking about... my dear little Italian. Ahh, how he'll look soon."
"What's gonna happen soon?" Prussia asks and hears something that sounds suspiciously like a muffled snigger from France.
"I'll take," Spain moans and thrusts against his hand, "his brother too!"
He shivers and claws at Prussia, eyes closed and face twisted in a lustful grin. "My Italies... I'll fuck them both, an' watch them fuck each other and-"
"You sick bastard," Prussia says, but there is a hint of admiration in his voice. Admiration and envy, because while he's only ever met North Italy, the little guy is damn cute. To have both of them...
Spain doesn't listen, but keeps thrusting against him. His throat works frantically as the Italian brothers in his mind do something to each other that would probably get the whole peninsula excommunicated if anyone else saw.
It takes some effort, but Prussia manages to sit up and drag the frantic Spaniard with him and goddamn but this sight is turning him on something fierce!
"B- been waiting for this for hundreds of fucking years!" Spain gasps and suddenly Prussia knows that it's time.
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"You're gonna watch them like this, aren't you, Spain?" he murmurs, unable to keep a slight tremble from his voice. "Watch them suck each other, your Italy on his knees before his brother and they're both blushing and moaning, but Veneziano'll cry too and little, uh-"
Shit. What the fuck was his name again?
"Romano," France says quickly before pressing their cocks together so he can taste them both.
"Right, him." Prussia flounders for a minute, but lucky for him, Spain is a bit busy almost-but-not-quite-yet coming and doesn't notice his little lapse.
"Veneziano'll fuck his brother's mouth, right? He'll take Romano by that damn hair-sproing," here Spain practically spasms with pleasure, "and pull him closer an' call him brother. Please suck me, oh, please, let me fuck you big brother," and if Prussia is imagining a different, much paler young nation right now? Well, that's his little secret and nobody has to know.
"Romano wants him so much, too, doesn't he?" he asks teasingly.
"Yes," Spain is almost sobbing, "god, yes, want them."
"Mmhm, wants to taste his brother, but he's such ah, good little catholic boy an' he's crying and all guilty but he can't help it. Romano," and damn him for an Austrian if the mere mention of that name doesn't make Spain moan even deeper, "your Romano's begging you to take him at the same time, horny little slut, he wants to taste his brother too and oh please Spain, fuck me, fuck me harder!"
That does it and Prussia grins in breathless triumph when Spain comes beautifully, spilling himself on his cock and all over France's open mouth and greedy lips.
Okay, he's been generous; now it's the awesome Prussia's turn. About bloody time!
As soon as Spain has stopped thrashing with pleasure, he releases the limp form and buries his fingers in France's locks. He won't need much now, not after that little show... So, his breath hitches when strong hands grips his thighs and he pushed France's head down on himself, all the way in, just take me baby.
"Hhn." Prussia is groaning, looking down at the head in his lap as he fucks that willing mouth faster and faster, feeling his balls grow heavy and needy.
"Gonna have them like this, yeah," he can't stop it, the words spill from his mouth with everything he needs and wants, "first m- my Hungary and then him!"
His eyes close as he imagines a darker head, glasses lying broken on the floor as his blood and tears mingle in the humiliation of defeat!
"Fucking bitch!" And Prussia is coming, he yanks France's head back at the very last moment, hardly sees how the other gasps for air. He watches his own come splatter on the face, mesmerised, imagines that the wetness on those flushed cheeks is tears which he couldn't hold back any longer.
The control he could never shake before will lie crushed before him, broken like Austria's armies, broken like Austria himself will be once Prussia is done with the sexy little bastard.
When Prussia comes to full sense again, the sight of the nation before him, France, traps him in a new kind of dream all over again.
Because far from crying and protesting, the blond is smearing the come around, licking his fingers as if he knows nothing better than to luxuriate in this degradation. The blue eyes open slightly and France rubs his face against Prussia's suddenly lax hands.
"Finished?" he says and winks. His lips are shiny and swollen when they close around one of Prussia's fingers, then France is jerking himself off, proudly spreading his legs and growing rapidly harder.
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"Look at me!" His voice snaps Prussia out of his softening, sated state, until his gaze is fastened on the hands moving over France's cock faster and faster. Trapped and confused, unwillingly aroused, the red eyes take in France's face - so recently soiled with pleasure and so obviously adoring the whole situation.
There is nothing beautiful about him, nothing cute to endear this horny Frenchman to Prussia. Except his naked lust itself, the way he has no shred of shame and the way his face shines up when Spain leans against Prussia to watch too. Together they look in enraptured silence, as France performs before them, as his eyes roll back and his hips jerk and he comes, comes before them but all for himself.
Afterwards, they scoot together on the bed and there's more naked flesh there than Prussia really knows what to do with, so he just pats Spain's ass a little and tries to relax. It would be easier if the room wasn't so stifling warm and if only his company tonight was less... just a bit less, of everything.
"Aren't you, uh, going to clean that off?" he asks when France uncorks a bottle of wine with his teeth and drinks straight from the bottle, adding red stains to the flecks already marking his face.
France shrugs. "You offering?"
"Urgh, no!"
"Oh, fuck you too, you little prude," France says and holds the bottle out in invitation. "Another drink?"
"I'll clean you off," Spain offers softly, "soon. But not," he raises a finger in warning, "with anything but a towel!"
"Tch. I'm surrounded by repressed Catholics." He doesn't sound very put out, though, and pulls Spain close enough to hold the bottle to his lips. They share the drink in silence but there is a surprisingly fond smile on France's face when he the dark-haired nation begins to snore lightly.
"So, uh, if he's asleep I guess we're done?"
Prussia didn't really see a need to point out that, actually, he's Protestant these days, but the silence is growing weird and he's never been good at keeping his mouth shut. His new boss is trying to do something about that, with little luck so far.
"Oh, don't worry about Spain." France's voice is a little bit too sharp and his smile falls just on the wrong side of friendly to be entirely comfortable. "I know this lazy old bum, he'll be fine if we give him a few minutes. You, on the other hand?"
This time, the word comfortable doesn't even come close to the hungry grin adorning France's face.
"You are so fucked, mon petit amour...."
He wishes he could tell everyone that he smiled both death and deranged Frenchmen in the face with equal bravado, but it is difficult to quench the shakiness that has overcome him. And, much as it galls to admit, Prussia begins to suspect that he's a bit out of his depth here. For a fleeting moment, he wishes that he had listened just a little more to Friedrich.
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♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
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PLEASE WRITE MORE. ALSO, MARRY ME. MARRY ME AND WRITE MORE PORN.
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/worships
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