Generic Prussia/England [3/5]
anonymous
April 25 2009, 14:26:25 UTC
Prussia was dazed from having his head smacked on the floor, but he regained his focus as soon as he saw England's bloody grin hanging above him. He hooked a leg around England’s waist, which had at least one interesting side effect, and then England found himself being rolled over. Before he knew what was what, Prussia was back on top and he had the leg of a toppled chair stabbing into his back. Prussia descended onto the soft, fleshy part of England’s neck and bit, almost certainly hard enough to leave a bruise. England bucked in an attempt to dislodge Prussia and was able to free an arm enough to drive his elbow into Prussia’s side and get off that confounded chair leg.
He quickly scrambled to keep Prussia subdued. There were a number of punches thrown, a knee that almost knocked England out of the fight altogether and a finger that was very nearly lost to Prussia's teeth, but England eventually prevailed. He used his weight to its full advantage and pinned Prussia beneath him, sure to keep those hands of his under control.
“Do you do this with all your allies?” England asked. Blood dripped from the end of his nose and landed on Prussia's cheek.
“Only the ones I like,” replied Prussia. England snorted (and inadvertently sprayed blood across Prussia's face, which was pleasant).
“That's really flattering. Thanks.” Prussia didn't say anything in reply, but opted to just keep grinning as though everything was going his way, which it quite plainly was not. Well, England still wasn't entirely sure what it was that Prussia was aiming for, but he reckoned it probably wasn't getting thoroughly beaten.
Prussia suddenly lunged forward with his head and England, still a tad jumpy from the last time, pulled out of the way. Unfortunately, in doing so, he let Prussia's hands go free and then they were very quickly back to brawling on the floor. It was terribly undignified and England predicted that he was going to have at least one black eye that he wouldn't be able to cover up, but he found it exhilarating. It had been a while since battles had been as raw and physical as this and, though he wouldn't even admit it to himself, it was a relief to be in a fight that it honestly wouldn't matter if he lost.
Prussia had the upper hand again, but this time it wasn’t looking good for England pulling it back in his favour.
England had somehow ended up on his front. He wasn’t sure he quite knew how that had happened, but it had. Prussia was happily perched on his legs and had his arm twisted up behind his back, while his face - and every other part of him - was being pushed into the floor. Prussia leaned down until his mouth was level with England’s ear.
“Admit that I’m better,” he said quietly, his breath cool across England’s skin.
“What?” said England, his voice only slightly muffled by the floorboards. “No!” Prussia pushed England’s arm up a little further, earning himself a strangled noise from England’s throat.
“Say I’m better than you,” Prussia insisted again.
“I’m better than you,” England repeated obediently.
“Oh, you’re fucking hilarious.” Prussia forced England’s arm further until England cried out. And then he kept going.
“All right, all right!” England shouted, “I give! You're better than me!” Prussia eased the pressure on his arm.
“That's what I like to hear.” And just to prove how much he liked hearing it he jerked his hips into curve of England's arse. There was a moment of uncertain silence before England laughed into the floor.
“You're a dirty bugger, Prussia.”
“Yeah? What're you going to do about it?” He pressed his hips forward again. England watched Prussia's blissful expression out of the corner of his eye.
“Give me some room.” To England's surprise, Prussia gave him enough space to get onto all fours, so he did, it was foolish not to use everything he was given. He then took one of Prussia's hands (there was a small jostle for control over it until Prussia realised where it was going) and sucked the middle finger into his mouth. He swirled his tongue all round it, curiously flicking at the tip of it before soothing the bruised knuckle with long, gentle strokes. He soon took a second and third finger in and gave them the same attention.
He quickly scrambled to keep Prussia subdued. There were a number of punches thrown, a knee that almost knocked England out of the fight altogether and a finger that was very nearly lost to Prussia's teeth, but England eventually prevailed. He used his weight to its full advantage and pinned Prussia beneath him, sure to keep those hands of his under control.
“Do you do this with all your allies?” England asked. Blood dripped from the end of his nose and landed on Prussia's cheek.
“Only the ones I like,” replied Prussia. England snorted (and inadvertently sprayed blood across Prussia's face, which was pleasant).
“That's really flattering. Thanks.” Prussia didn't say anything in reply, but opted to just keep grinning as though everything was going his way, which it quite plainly was not. Well, England still wasn't entirely sure what it was that Prussia was aiming for, but he reckoned it probably wasn't getting thoroughly beaten.
Prussia suddenly lunged forward with his head and England, still a tad jumpy from the last time, pulled out of the way. Unfortunately, in doing so, he let Prussia's hands go free and then they were very quickly back to brawling on the floor. It was terribly undignified and England predicted that he was going to have at least one black eye that he wouldn't be able to cover up, but he found it exhilarating. It had been a while since battles had been as raw and physical as this and, though he wouldn't even admit it to himself, it was a relief to be in a fight that it honestly wouldn't matter if he lost.
Prussia had the upper hand again, but this time it wasn’t looking good for England pulling it back in his favour.
England had somehow ended up on his front. He wasn’t sure he quite knew how that had happened, but it had. Prussia was happily perched on his legs and had his arm twisted up behind his back, while his face - and every other part of him - was being pushed into the floor. Prussia leaned down until his mouth was level with England’s ear.
“Admit that I’m better,” he said quietly, his breath cool across England’s skin.
“What?” said England, his voice only slightly muffled by the floorboards. “No!” Prussia pushed England’s arm up a little further, earning himself a strangled noise from England’s throat.
“Say I’m better than you,” Prussia insisted again.
“I’m better than you,” England repeated obediently.
“Oh, you’re fucking hilarious.” Prussia forced England’s arm further until England cried out. And then he kept going.
“All right, all right!” England shouted, “I give! You're better than me!” Prussia eased the pressure on his arm.
“That's what I like to hear.” And just to prove how much he liked hearing it he jerked his hips into curve of England's arse. There was a moment of uncertain silence before England laughed into the floor.
“You're a dirty bugger, Prussia.”
“Yeah? What're you going to do about it?” He pressed his hips forward again. England watched Prussia's blissful expression out of the corner of his eye.
“Give me some room.” To England's surprise, Prussia gave him enough space to get onto all fours, so he did, it was foolish not to use everything he was given. He then took one of Prussia's hands (there was a small jostle for control over it until Prussia realised where it was going) and sucked the middle finger into his mouth. He swirled his tongue all round it, curiously flicking at the tip of it before soothing the bruised knuckle with long, gentle strokes. He soon took a second and third finger in and gave them the same attention.
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