To love, to hold, to fuck things up 16/?
anonymous
May 2 2009, 17:11:12 UTC
"No!" Forgetting that he couldn't use his hands for support, Germany would have toppled over if not for Italy's hand still holding his arm in a painful grip. "Wait, brother!"
"I can't," Prussia said, and the shaky grin on his face widened even more, "I'm sorry, West, but I just can't hang around and wait any longer." He visibly swallowed and then lifted his head in proud determination. "Hey, do you think Poland will want to rent me a room? That'd be a sight, us together, ahahaha!"
"No!" Germany struggled to get up and find the words, but he just didn't have any idea what to do or say any more. "Don't, Italy, tell him not to go," he pleaded.
"Prussia," Italy said obediently, "I don't want you to go away." But his fingers dug deeper into the arm he was holding and Germany understood the meaning loud and clear; that's not good enough.
"Thanks, man."
Finally, Germany found his balance and got up on shaky feet. Prussia looked like a badly put together porcelain figure, about to break in the heath of the kiln. Handcuffed, the top buttons of his shirt undone, face developing a bruise from where Germany had caught him with a powerful right-hook and still sporting that annoying, horrible, false grin.
His brother. His best friend. And both claimed they loved him, that they wanted him. Could he live with that?
He glanced back at Italy Veneziano, sitting on the floor in only his shirt, the half-hard cock Germany had been fondling only moments ago peeking out from between sunbrowned legs. His face had rarely looked more serious, nor more tempting to Germany. Then he looked at Prussia, beaten but still not down. His brother, the living collection of all the extreme up and downs of a nation, which Germany had only tasted so far. The man who ought to be only a memory but managed to stay as something so much more.
How had he managed to live without this?
With two determined strides, Germany caught up with Prussia and proceeded to prove that his brother wasn't the only one who could win a fight without using his hands.
It was almost too easy to trap Prussia against the doorpost, one kiss and he came undone against Germany. Somewhere behind them, he heard Italy give a whoop of pleasure and then a smaller body careened into Germany's back.
Prussia and Germany's teeth slammed together painfully, but the curse caught in Germany's throat when he saw how his brother looked. Flushed and almost trembling with pleasure. Something between a sob and a laugh escaped when Italy wriggled a pair of enthusiastic hands between them and fairly ripped open his shirt.
"Ahh, West," Prussia said and let his head fall forward, resting on Germany's shoulder, "you're incredibly difficult to deal with, you know that?"
"Yes," Germany said and pushed a knee between Prussia's legs, "but I'm hardly the only one here."
Prussia hissed and kissed him aggressively. "You bastard!"
"But our bastard!" the laughing Italy said and tried to climb up on Germany's back. "Hmm, don't you guys think we should continue this in bed? As long as we can find one without glass in!"
Re: To love, to hold, to fuck things up 16/?
anonymous
May 2 2009, 17:34:41 UTC
I clicked this on a whim, and now I don't know how I lived without it for so long! There's so much I adore in this, though probably not anything others haven't said before. The characterizations, the delicate and shifting balances in the dynamics between each two and all three, the way historical context is woven through the emotions and actions of the present--marvelous, Anon. Truly marvelous.
Re: To love, to hold, to fuck things up 16/?
anonymous
May 3 2009, 01:17:39 UTC
Oh...wow. I...have no words how much I'm worshipping your writing skills.
For a while I've been trying to search for a fic with these three but found none..I even started to write my own but failed and now....you're writing the absolutely greatest fic I've ever read! :0 This is just so hilarious and yummy and every way awesome that really...you've just won my adoration forever(and million internets and firstborns) <3
Re: To love, to hold, to fuck things up 16/?
anonymous
May 3 2009, 08:35:56 UTC
Why, thank you, anon, for this wonderful bedtime story. I hope to read more of it tomorrow.
And when this is done, I fully intend to save it to my computer, where it will take up residence with the few worthy fics on this meme I have stored for future reference.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be in my bunk. Night.
To love, to hold, to fuck things up 17/?
anonymous
May 3 2009, 21:29:19 UTC
Germany had wanted the handcuffs removed, a suggestion Prussia and Italy vetoed with a resounding no. Then Italy suggested that since Prussia was less likely to try and run away - Germany scoffed that he wasn't the type to run from anything, to which the other two gave him a pitying look - they could take off only his handcuffs.
This Germany protested loudly as unfair, unjust and just forget about it! Besides, while he might have taken enough leave of his senses to leave himself bound in Italy's hands, there was no way he'd allow his brother free reign of him like this. Prussia pouted, but was unwilling to back down from the chance to enjoy West in bondage, even if it cost him his freedom as well.
In the end, both the German brothers stayed cuffed. Italy, armed with a kitchen knife, removed Prussia's tattered shirt and took off his belt. They left the trousers on, for the moment, since Prussia complained that it was cold and couldn't they just hurry up and fuck soon?
Then, after some discussion concerning broken windows which could have escalated into another fight except for the little matter of both combatants being handcuffed and so unable to defend themselves when Italy threatened to gag them, they decided to move upstairs to the second guestroom.
Germany's bedroom was on the bottom floor and thus inaccessible for the time being due to hazardous knocking. And even Prussia admitted that it would be hard to fit three people on his bed, not to mention navigate the souvenir-filled obstacle course that made up the floor of his room.
All that decided, Italy climbed onto German's back and told them both that since he was the only one not bound, he was going to top tonight, so there! And now, would his trusty German steed please head to the bedroom before he got frostbite on his vital regions?
"You mean your stomach?" Prussia grinned.
"Beeh!" Italy answered. He pulled at Germany's hair as if it was the very short reins of a very embarrassed horse. "You're both captives of the mighty Italy tonight, so no talking back! Or I'll withhold the pasta."
"Oh, the horror."
"And the olive oil!" Italy waved the bottle of improvised lubrication imperiously and Prussia, for once, decided to do the prudent thing and shut up. Besides, his two new almost-perhaps-boyfriends looked absolutely delicious (Prussia wondered if he could get Italy to climb naked on him, preferably sometime soon) and it really was very cold down here, what with the new 'air-conditioning' and all.
Next time, he'd just set fire to Germany's car instead.
Germany was blushing furiously at having to walk naked (save his socks) through his house - with the curtains open, no less! Still, he only made a token protest at being treated with such indignity before he told Italy to keep a tight hold and stay still while they used the stairs.
They survived the stairs, but only Italy's quick grab of a pair of deer antlers saved them when they passed the balcony door.
The all glass balcony door. Which just happened to be facing a wrought-iron balcony fence and, a bit further on, the elderly neighbours who were enjoying their afternoon coffee and cake when the more or less naked procession passed by.
Italy waved, Prussia called out a loud halloooo! and Germany almost broke his neck trying to run, duck and cover himself at the same time.
"Good thing Germany makes his furniture so solid!" Italy said once everyone had regained their balance. He patted Germany's hair in consolation. "Ve, your neighbours are so old, they probably have really bad eyesight!"
"Unfortunately that's not the only thing solid here," Prussia said and shook his head. "Jeez, West. You're really determined to die a virgin, aren't you?"
Germany was too mortified to answer. God, and the man was a former ambassador! This would be all over the country by tomorrow! Wishing an end to this entire mess, one way or another, he hurried to the bedroom, face burning and shoulders hunched as much as possible with Italy clinging to him.
tbc...
(might take a few days due to RL, but I'll wrap this up pretty soon!)
Re: To love, to hold, to fuck things up 17/?
anonymous
May 3 2009, 22:58:45 UTC
This is the OP here. Sorry I haven't commented before- I've been busy-and didn't expect my request to be worked on so soon. boy, has it. Your characterization is spot-on. I simply adore how you've written Italy, Prussia and Germany. The character dynamics/relationships are brilliant as well. Bonus points for the hinted Spain/South Italy.
If it feels like I'm being restrained in my praise here, that's probably because I could go on for about three pages about PRUSSIA AND THE BRICKS and ITALY KNOWING ROMANCE and HIS WAR CRY IS PASTA and THE HANDCUFFS, etc.[The last part almost sent me into hysterics, especially the balcony.]
This is amazing, and I'm eagerly awaiting the next post. In sum, this is much more than I hoped for, and I'm very happy with it thus far.
To love, to hold, to fuck things up 18/?
anonymous
May 5 2009, 19:10:41 UTC
Fuck RL, these horny guys are being too insistent in my head
Italy pretty much fell off Germany when said nation dove into bed and tried to crawl under the covers. He failed, because the covers were pulled very tight and snug around the mattress. Italy shook his head; he knew Germany would regret making the beds every day! Why, Italy's bed was always a messy, welcoming heap of haphazard blankets and wrinkled sheets and had he ever had any trouble getting into it tied up? Nope.
Although the only time he had ended up in bed tied was when Romano got really angry at him and tied him up before he left to "have a little talk" with the North Italian politicians who had insulted the South... Still, he'd wormed into bed, taken his siesta as comfortably as the circumstances allowed and then bawled at Spain who stopped by to say hi until he was released.
Still, burying down in this bed was a really good idea. Italy just loved to snuggle and as soon as he'd helped poor Prussia with those jeans, he would join Germany beneath the covers.
"Oh my god, they saw us!" Germany moaned. He was sitting hunched over on the bed, trying to protect his private parts from any further prying eyes. Which in Italy's opinion kind of defeated the whole purpose of their coming there, but he could let Germany mope for a little while. A very little while.
"Wouldn't have happened if we'd done it on the kitchen table like I suggested," Prussia said and flopped down on his stomach beside them.
"How am I supposed to show my face at the next EU meeting?"
"Don't let them know Italy was topping?" Prussia suggested. "By the way, Veneziano..." he rolled over and motioned with his head to the fly of his jeans. Italy bent closer and looked the many buttons curiously. Prussia had never really been comfortable with zippers and happily embraced any fashion that allowed him to avoid them. Since Italy usually preferred comfortable, practical clothes (when he remembered to wear clothes at all) the idea of button-up jeans was a new one to him. "In fact, I wouldn't mind getting to know your sweet little ass closer tonight. What do you say?" Prussia continued and rolled his hips suggestively.
"No!" Italy said and finally figured out how best to pry open the buttons. "I want to , ve!" Oho, what was this? Prussia apparently didn't much believe in underwear either.
"And Germany and Prussia are even worse at romance than I am at war. So I'm not letting either of you near my butt until you have both been trough some proper Italian love-training!"
While Prussia roared with laughter, Germany whimpered something about how he knew his sins would come back to haunt him but did they have really to do it by the way of Italians?
Finally they managed to all get rid of the last of their clothes. Italy prepared the bed and uncapped the olive oil, letting it wait on the nightstand for now. Then he took a moment to take a good leisurely look at his soon-to-be lovers.
Germany was like a delicious ripe tomato with his face all red like that. Made Italy want to taste him all over and see if he couldn't tease that partially erect cock all the way and make it blush too. Perhaps, finally, Italy could make his friend cut loose a little and just enjoy himself without thought of the consequences!
Prussia was a paler, slightly wirier version of Germany. He seemed eager and easily met Italy's eyes, challenging him to come up with something fun and that soon! But beneath the devil may care attitude, he too was tense and Italy wondered how it felt to make love - or was it always only fucking? - over and over again, during hundreds of years without ever once really trusting his partners.
Well. Italy rubbed his hands in anticipation before pulling up the covers around himself and the two brothers. He had time to spare and for once, Italy would not back down before he had conquered them both.
To love, to hold, to fuck things up 19/?
anonymous
May 5 2009, 21:11:57 UTC
When Italy lay down besides Germany and began to kiss and pet him, Germany thought he must have died and gone to heaven. As he felt Prussia move in behind him, his cock hardening rapidly against Germany's ass, he realized that was wrong.
They were still alive, but surely heading straight for hell.
Soon, the other two nations had pushed Germany on his back and were using his helpless state to the fullest. With his hands beneath him, he couldn't help but arch up, offering his nipples and throat before Italy who attacked them like a man starved for a decade.
"Please," Germany said and squirmed.
"What do you want me to do?" Italy murmured. The face that often looked so silly and confused seemed both unusually kind and, somehow, mature now. This radiant gentleness scared and aroused Germany more than he cared to consider.
"Anything," he admitted, "just touch me more."
The kiss they shared was different from any before, and there had already been a great many more than Germany had ever expected that fateful day when he found his "tomato fairy" in a box.
Italy's tongue pushed gently, insistently, against his lips. When Germany opened his mouth, the other nation took a careful hold of his face and showed him just why Italians were so adored by women. He did not merely kiss, he made love to Germany mouth-to-mouth, every stroke of his tongue a caress and a joy.
Where they met, soft flesh against touching his teeth and then meeting flesh again, Germany thought he would catch fire. Italy teased Germany's tongue, until he just had to push back and follow. Somehow he found that he was the one exploring Italy's mouth. It was all so odd and new and wonderful that Germany was soon trembling beneath the Italian, straining in his bonds and wordlessly begging for more kisses.
Prussia had spent a few moments admiring the pair and basking in their shared body heath. Now, he pushed his face closer, lips touching the two kissing nations here and there - cheek, brow, ear - with unusual gentleness. When Italy turned towards him, he eagerly met the smaller nation's lip, before turning to look down at Germany.
Italy was more or less lying down, his upper body a delightful presence on Germany's right side. Meanwhile, Prussia was kneeling over one of Germany's legs. When he bent down towards Germany, the latter could feel his brother's cock touch against his own, before the angle shifted and the tip rested lightly on his stomach.
"Can I, West?" Prussia asked, licking his lips hungrily. "Come on, can I?"
Because he did not think his voice would actually work, Germany only nodded and opened his mouth, unconsciously stretching towards the other man.
His first thought was confusion, because why would Prussia taste liked chocolate? Then he remembered the cocoa in the kitchen. After another heartbeat, he tasted only his brother. This time, there was no careful coaxing, but instead chapped lips crushing his own with demanding pressure, matched by the insistent hardness further down.
If Italy was gentle and warm, a lazy day by the Mediterranean, Prussia was intense, laying claim to his mouth and lips as if he wanted to conquer every breath that escaped Germany.
Then Germany's two lovers switched positions again. This time Italy's kisses were broken up by small endearments spoken in a haphazard mix of German and Italian. He rubbed his nose in Germany's hair, drawing in deep breaths and licked his lips softly as if Germany smelled more delicious than anything coming out of the Italian kitchen, before coming in for another deep kiss.
Italy wriggled closer, until his body was plastered against Germany's side. Soon enough the blond nation could feel two matching arousals pressed against him, rubbing and pushing in a most tantalizing way.
But except for an occasional nudge, such as when Italy slid down to throw his arms around Germany and loudly proclaim his love, or when Prussia moved up again and for a few too-too short moments pressed a leg against Germany's cock, they did not touch him there. It had been frustrating, but the feeling was slowly becoming pure torture.
To love, to hold, to fuck things up 20/?
anonymous
May 5 2009, 21:12:58 UTC
"Can't you touch, ah!" his words were swallowed by Prussia's kiss. The small wound on his brother's lip came open and Germany felt a shiver rack him as he realized how arousing the taste was on Prussia. Then the older nation was biting his lip slowly and all the while his wide-open eyes stared at him with hunger, as if they wanted to devour Germany whole.
"Ohh, I think it's feeling lonely!" Italy tickled Germany's belly-button and followed the trail of blond fuzz down to the curls around his sex. But he carefully avoided actually touching the cock itself, refusing to give that much needed relief.
"Yes," Germany said and tried to lift his hips towards that skilled hand, but with the two bodies weighing him down, he was effectively pinned. "Please!"
"Hmm," Prussia said and attacked Germany's ear with sharp teeth and an unsettlingly arousing voice. "You really haven't fucked anyone before, have you, West?"
"N- no." Germany bit his lip as soon as the admission slipped out. This was all so good, but it was also rather overwhelming. He wasn't sure he could deal with his brother's usually barbed comments right now.
To his surprise, Prussia only chuckled against his ear, before he kissed him violently again. Then he said to Italy, "Think I'll take the edge off for West, eh? The upper half is all yours, but I'll be happy if you give me a hand too."
"Ve!" Italy thrilled and then climbed up to sit on Germany's chest, while Prussia began the somewhat complicated process of moving off Germany, without kneeing him in any vital regions or falling over. That the blanket had tangled around his legs and that Italy was wiggling his cute little ass teasingly close to West's cock didn't really make things simpler.
The covers had mostly been pushed off, what with the two nations climbing all over Germany, but now Italy grabbed it and pulled it over his shoulder like a haphazard mantle. "Don't like to be cold," Italy smiled down at Germany. Then, with a teasing twinkle in his eyes, he began twirling the eternally renegade hair-curl around a finger while speaking in an increasingly breathless voice.
"I think Germany has suspected what my hair is for, hasn't he? Ve, 's very fun to play with..." Italy closed his eyes and stroked himself lightly. "But I think it will be even more fun to have Germany play with it!" The improvised mantle began slipping off as quickly as it had been made, framing his body beautifully.
Italy hummed in pleasure when he opened his eyes and found Germany completely entranced by the sight of his hand, chewed nails and all, travelling over his sunkissed flesh.
"Remember, mmh, this little forest? Where I convinced you to play football instead of going to that meeting?" Italy asked, his finger tickling a small mole. "Or the time," now Italy was using both hands to stroke and play with himself, "I showed you my, ah, beautiful Firenze..." He took his own length in hand, bending forward so Germany had a proper view and squeezing firmly, just like he liked it. "We've really been all over the Italian peninsula, haven't we? Do you want to find all those places on me, Germany..."
"Shit, Italy," Prussia said from somewhere behind the young man, "you're making me all hot and bothered and I can't see even see anything!" He dropped a kiss on Germany's thigh and continued before the confused nation could quite put together why he could only see Prussia's feet and how come he was talking from behind Italy. "Though, gotta admit, this is quite the sight..."
Then Germany stopped hearing or thinking anything at all, because a warm mouth closed around his cock.
When Germany bucked and cried out beneath him, Italy's little trip down memory lane was interrupted abruptly as he almost fell forward, pushing his cock against Germany's nose and clocking him on the ear with a knee.
"Ouch! What're youaaahhh..." Germany's eyes rolled back as Prussia swallowed him whole, sucking insistently and demanding every single bit of Germany's shattered attention.
"Sorry!" Italy said and looked backwards to make sure that he didn't sit down on Prussia's head. Then he froze there for a moment, lost in the sight of Prussia's mouth working around Germany's length.
"I can't," Prussia said, and the shaky grin on his face widened even more, "I'm sorry, West, but I just can't hang around and wait any longer." He visibly swallowed and then lifted his head in proud determination. "Hey, do you think Poland will want to rent me a room? That'd be a sight, us together, ahahaha!"
"No!" Germany struggled to get up and find the words, but he just didn't have any idea what to do or say any more. "Don't, Italy, tell him not to go," he pleaded.
"Prussia," Italy said obediently, "I don't want you to go away."
But his fingers dug deeper into the arm he was holding and Germany understood the meaning loud and clear; that's not good enough.
"Thanks, man."
Finally, Germany found his balance and got up on shaky feet. Prussia looked like a badly put together porcelain figure, about to break in the heath of the kiln. Handcuffed, the top buttons of his shirt undone, face developing a bruise from where Germany had caught him with a powerful right-hook and still sporting that annoying, horrible, false grin.
His brother. His best friend. And both claimed they loved him, that they wanted him. Could he live with that?
He glanced back at Italy Veneziano, sitting on the floor in only his shirt, the half-hard cock Germany had been fondling only moments ago peeking out from between sunbrowned legs. His face had rarely looked more serious, nor more tempting to Germany.
Then he looked at Prussia, beaten but still not down. His brother, the living collection of all the extreme up and downs of a nation, which Germany had only tasted so far. The man who ought to be only a memory but managed to stay as something so much more.
How had he managed to live without this?
With two determined strides, Germany caught up with Prussia and proceeded to prove that his brother wasn't the only one who could win a fight without using his hands.
It was almost too easy to trap Prussia against the doorpost, one kiss and he came undone against Germany. Somewhere behind them, he heard Italy give a whoop of pleasure and then a smaller body careened into Germany's back.
Prussia and Germany's teeth slammed together painfully, but the curse caught in Germany's throat when he saw how his brother looked. Flushed and almost trembling with pleasure. Something between a sob and a laugh escaped when Italy wriggled a pair of enthusiastic hands between them and fairly ripped open his shirt.
"Ahh, West," Prussia said and let his head fall forward, resting on Germany's shoulder, "you're incredibly difficult to deal with, you know that?"
"Yes," Germany said and pushed a knee between Prussia's legs, "but I'm hardly the only one here."
Prussia hissed and kissed him aggressively. "You bastard!"
"But our bastard!" the laughing Italy said and tried to climb up on Germany's back. "Hmm, don't you guys think we should continue this in bed? As long as we can find one without glass in!"
tbc...
Reply
Reply
Reply
My heart broke a couple of times for Prussia tho, baww.
Reply
For a while I've been trying to search for a fic with these three but found none..I even started to write my own but failed and now....you're writing the absolutely greatest fic I've ever read! :0
This is just so hilarious and yummy and every way awesome that really...you've just won my adoration forever(and million internets and firstborns) <3
Reply
This is so fucking hot and so freaking awesome, just like Prussia. Love it dear please keep 'er up <3
Reply
And when this is done, I fully intend to save it to my computer, where it will take up residence with the few worthy fics on this meme I have stored for future reference.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be in my bunk. Night.
Reply
This Germany protested loudly as unfair, unjust and just forget about it! Besides, while he might have taken enough leave of his senses to leave himself bound in Italy's hands, there was no way he'd allow his brother free reign of him like this. Prussia pouted, but was unwilling to back down from the chance to enjoy West in bondage, even if it cost him his freedom as well.
In the end, both the German brothers stayed cuffed. Italy, armed with a kitchen knife, removed Prussia's tattered shirt and took off his belt. They left the trousers on, for the moment, since Prussia complained that it was cold and couldn't they just hurry up and fuck soon?
Then, after some discussion concerning broken windows which could have escalated into another fight except for the little matter of both combatants being handcuffed and so unable to defend themselves when Italy threatened to gag them, they decided to move upstairs to the second guestroom.
Germany's bedroom was on the bottom floor and thus inaccessible for the time being due to hazardous knocking. And even Prussia admitted that it would be hard to fit three people on his bed, not to mention navigate the souvenir-filled obstacle course that made up the floor of his room.
All that decided, Italy climbed onto German's back and told them both that since he was the only one not bound, he was going to top tonight, so there! And now, would his trusty German steed please head to the bedroom before he got frostbite on his vital regions?
"You mean your stomach?" Prussia grinned.
"Beeh!" Italy answered. He pulled at Germany's hair as if it was the very short reins of a very embarrassed horse. "You're both captives of the mighty Italy tonight, so no talking back! Or I'll withhold the pasta."
"Oh, the horror."
"And the olive oil!" Italy waved the bottle of improvised lubrication imperiously and Prussia, for once, decided to do the prudent thing and shut up. Besides, his two new almost-perhaps-boyfriends looked absolutely delicious (Prussia wondered if he could get Italy to climb naked on him, preferably sometime soon) and it really was very cold down here, what with the new 'air-conditioning' and all.
Next time, he'd just set fire to Germany's car instead.
Germany was blushing furiously at having to walk naked (save his socks) through his house - with the curtains open, no less! Still, he only made a token protest at being treated with such indignity before he told Italy to keep a tight hold and stay still while they used the stairs.
They survived the stairs, but only Italy's quick grab of a pair of deer antlers saved them when they passed the balcony door.
The all glass balcony door. Which just happened to be facing a wrought-iron balcony fence and, a bit further on, the elderly neighbours who were enjoying their afternoon coffee and
cake when the more or less naked procession passed by.
Italy waved, Prussia called out a loud halloooo! and Germany almost broke his neck trying to run, duck and cover himself at the same time.
"Good thing Germany makes his furniture so solid!" Italy said once everyone had regained their balance. He patted Germany's hair in consolation. "Ve, your neighbours are so old, they probably have really bad eyesight!"
"Unfortunately that's not the only thing solid here," Prussia said and shook his head. "Jeez, West. You're really determined to die a virgin, aren't you?"
Germany was too mortified to answer. God, and the man was a former ambassador! This would be all over the country by tomorrow!
Wishing an end to this entire mess, one way or another, he hurried to the bedroom, face burning and shoulders hunched as much as possible with Italy clinging to him.
tbc...
(might take a few days due to RL, but I'll wrap this up pretty soon!)
Reply
boy, has it. Your characterization is spot-on. I simply adore how you've written Italy, Prussia and Germany. The character dynamics/relationships are brilliant as well.
Bonus points for the hinted Spain/South Italy.
If it feels like I'm being restrained in my praise here, that's probably because I could go on for about three pages about PRUSSIA AND THE BRICKS and ITALY KNOWING ROMANCE and HIS WAR CRY IS PASTA and THE HANDCUFFS, etc.[The last part almost sent me into hysterics, especially the balcony.]
This is amazing, and I'm eagerly awaiting the next post.
In sum, this is much more than I hoped for, and I'm very happy with it thus far.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Italy pretty much fell off Germany when said nation dove into bed and tried to crawl under the covers. He failed, because the covers were pulled very tight and snug around the mattress. Italy shook his head; he knew Germany would regret making the beds every day! Why, Italy's bed was always a messy, welcoming heap of haphazard blankets and wrinkled sheets and had he ever had any trouble getting into it tied up? Nope.
Although the only time he had ended up in bed tied was when Romano got really angry at him and tied him up before he left to "have a little talk" with the North Italian politicians who had insulted the South... Still, he'd wormed into bed, taken his siesta as comfortably as the circumstances allowed and then bawled at Spain who stopped by to say hi until he was released.
Still, burying down in this bed was a really good idea. Italy just loved to snuggle and as soon as he'd helped poor Prussia with those jeans, he would join Germany beneath the covers.
"Oh my god, they saw us!" Germany moaned. He was sitting hunched over on the bed, trying to protect his private parts from any further prying eyes. Which in Italy's opinion kind of defeated the whole purpose of their coming there, but he could let Germany mope for a little while. A very little while.
"Wouldn't have happened if we'd done it on the kitchen table like I suggested," Prussia said and flopped down on his stomach beside them.
"How am I supposed to show my face at the next EU meeting?"
"Don't let them know Italy was topping?" Prussia suggested. "By the way, Veneziano..." he rolled over and motioned with his head to the fly of his jeans. Italy bent closer and looked the many buttons curiously. Prussia had never really been comfortable with zippers and happily embraced any fashion that allowed him to avoid them. Since Italy usually preferred comfortable, practical clothes (when he remembered to wear clothes at all) the idea of button-up jeans was a new one to him.
"In fact, I wouldn't mind getting to know your sweet little ass closer tonight. What do you say?" Prussia continued and rolled his hips suggestively.
"No!" Italy said and finally figured out how best to pry open the buttons. "I want to , ve!"
Oho, what was this? Prussia apparently didn't much believe in underwear either.
"And Germany and Prussia are even worse at romance than I am at war. So I'm not letting either of you near my butt until you have both been trough some proper Italian love-training!"
While Prussia roared with laughter, Germany whimpered something about how he knew his sins would come back to haunt him but did they have really to do it by the way of Italians?
Finally they managed to all get rid of the last of their clothes. Italy prepared the bed and uncapped the olive oil, letting it wait on the nightstand for now. Then he took a moment to take a good leisurely look at his soon-to-be lovers.
Germany was like a delicious ripe tomato with his face all red like that. Made Italy want to taste him all over and see if he couldn't tease that partially erect cock all the way and make it blush too.
Perhaps, finally, Italy could make his friend cut loose a little and just enjoy himself without thought of the consequences!
Prussia was a paler, slightly wirier version of Germany. He seemed eager and easily met Italy's eyes, challenging him to come up with something fun and that soon! But beneath the devil may care attitude, he too was tense and Italy wondered how it felt to make love - or was it always only fucking? - over and over again, during hundreds of years without ever once really trusting his partners.
Well. Italy rubbed his hands in anticipation before pulling up the covers around himself and the two brothers. He had time to spare and for once, Italy would not back down before he had conquered them both.
tbc...
Reply
Reply
They were still alive, but surely heading straight for hell.
Soon, the other two nations had pushed Germany on his back and were using his helpless state to the fullest. With his hands beneath him, he couldn't help but arch up, offering his nipples and throat before Italy who attacked them like a man starved for a decade.
"Please," Germany said and squirmed.
"What do you want me to do?" Italy murmured. The face that often looked so silly and confused seemed both unusually kind and, somehow, mature now. This radiant gentleness scared and aroused Germany more than he cared to consider.
"Anything," he admitted, "just touch me more."
The kiss they shared was different from any before, and there had already been a great many more than Germany had ever expected that fateful day when he found his "tomato fairy" in a box.
Italy's tongue pushed gently, insistently, against his lips. When Germany opened his mouth, the other nation took a careful hold of his face and showed him just why Italians were so adored by women. He did not merely kiss, he made love to Germany mouth-to-mouth, every stroke of his tongue a caress and a joy.
Where they met, soft flesh against touching his teeth and then meeting flesh again, Germany thought he would catch fire. Italy teased Germany's tongue, until he just had to push back and follow. Somehow he found that he was the one exploring Italy's mouth. It was all so odd and new and wonderful that Germany was soon trembling beneath the Italian, straining in his bonds and wordlessly begging for more kisses.
Prussia had spent a few moments admiring the pair and basking in their shared body heath. Now, he pushed his face closer, lips touching the two kissing nations here and there - cheek, brow, ear - with unusual gentleness. When Italy turned towards him, he eagerly met the smaller nation's lip, before turning to look down at Germany.
Italy was more or less lying down, his upper body a delightful presence on Germany's right side. Meanwhile, Prussia was kneeling over one of Germany's legs. When he bent down towards Germany, the latter could feel his brother's cock touch against his own, before the angle shifted and the tip rested lightly on his stomach.
"Can I, West?" Prussia asked, licking his lips hungrily. "Come on, can I?"
Because he did not think his voice would actually work, Germany only nodded and opened his mouth, unconsciously stretching towards the other man.
His first thought was confusion, because why would Prussia taste liked chocolate? Then he remembered the cocoa in the kitchen. After another heartbeat, he tasted only his brother. This time, there was no careful coaxing, but instead chapped lips crushing his own with demanding pressure, matched by the insistent hardness further down.
If Italy was gentle and warm, a lazy day by the Mediterranean, Prussia was intense, laying claim to his mouth and lips as if he wanted to conquer every breath that escaped Germany.
Then Germany's two lovers switched positions again. This time Italy's kisses were broken up by small endearments spoken in a haphazard mix of German and Italian.
He rubbed his nose in Germany's hair, drawing in deep breaths and licked his lips softly as if Germany smelled more delicious than anything coming out of the Italian kitchen, before coming in for another deep kiss.
Italy wriggled closer, until his body was plastered against Germany's side. Soon enough the blond nation could feel two matching arousals pressed against him, rubbing and pushing in a most tantalizing way.
But except for an occasional nudge, such as when Italy slid down to throw his arms around Germany and loudly proclaim his love, or when Prussia moved up again and for a few too-too short moments pressed a leg against Germany's cock, they did not touch him there. It had been frustrating, but the feeling was slowly becoming pure torture.
tbc...
Reply
"Ohh, I think it's feeling lonely!" Italy tickled Germany's belly-button and followed the trail of blond fuzz down to the curls around his sex. But he carefully avoided actually touching the cock itself, refusing to give that much needed relief.
"Yes," Germany said and tried to lift his hips towards that skilled hand, but with the two bodies weighing him down, he was effectively pinned. "Please!"
"Hmm," Prussia said and attacked Germany's ear with sharp teeth and an unsettlingly arousing voice. "You really haven't fucked anyone before, have you, West?"
"N- no." Germany bit his lip as soon as the admission slipped out. This was all so good, but it was also rather overwhelming. He wasn't sure he could deal with his brother's usually barbed comments right now.
To his surprise, Prussia only chuckled against his ear, before he kissed him violently again. Then he said to Italy, "Think I'll take the edge off for West, eh? The upper half is all yours, but I'll be happy if you give me a hand too."
"Ve!" Italy thrilled and then climbed up to sit on Germany's chest, while Prussia began the somewhat complicated process of moving off Germany, without kneeing him in any vital regions or falling over. That the blanket had tangled around his legs and that Italy was wiggling his cute little ass teasingly close to West's cock didn't really make things simpler.
The covers had mostly been pushed off, what with the two nations climbing all over Germany, but now Italy grabbed it and pulled it over his shoulder like a haphazard mantle. "Don't like to be cold," Italy smiled down at Germany. Then, with a teasing twinkle in his eyes, he began twirling the eternally renegade hair-curl around a finger while speaking in an increasingly breathless voice.
"I think Germany has suspected what my hair is for, hasn't he? Ve, 's very fun to play with..." Italy closed his eyes and stroked himself lightly. "But I think it will be even more fun to have Germany play with it!" The improvised mantle began slipping off as quickly as it had been made, framing his body beautifully.
Italy hummed in pleasure when he opened his eyes and found Germany completely entranced by the sight of his hand, chewed nails and all, travelling over his sunkissed flesh.
"Remember, mmh, this little forest? Where I convinced you to play football instead of going to that meeting?" Italy asked, his finger tickling a small mole. "Or the time," now Italy was using both hands to stroke and play with himself, "I showed you my, ah, beautiful Firenze..." He took his own length in hand, bending forward so Germany had a proper view and squeezing firmly, just like he liked it.
"We've really been all over the Italian peninsula, haven't we? Do you want to find all those places on me, Germany..."
"Shit, Italy," Prussia said from somewhere behind the young man, "you're making me all hot and bothered and I can't see even see anything!"
He dropped a kiss on Germany's thigh and continued before the confused nation could quite put together why he could only see Prussia's feet and how come he was talking from behind Italy.
"Though, gotta admit, this is quite the sight..."
Then Germany stopped hearing or thinking anything at all, because a warm mouth closed around his cock.
When Germany bucked and cried out beneath him, Italy's little trip down memory lane was interrupted abruptly as he almost fell forward, pushing his cock against Germany's nose and clocking him on the ear with a knee.
"Ouch! What're youaaahhh..." Germany's eyes rolled back as Prussia swallowed him whole, sucking insistently and demanding every single bit of Germany's shattered attention.
"Sorry!" Italy said and looked backwards to make sure that he didn't sit down on Prussia's head. Then he froze there for a moment, lost in the sight of Prussia's mouth working around Germany's length.
tbc...
Reply
Leave a comment